charme

(photo: Bruno est dans la place)
Basho, Matsuo
The first soft snow!
Enough to bend the leaves
Of the jonquil low.

Basho, Matsuo
The first soft snow!
Enough to bend the leaves
Of the jonquil low.

Basho, Matsuo
Clouds appear
and bring to men a chance to rest
from looking at the moon.

Basho, Matsuo
Fallen sick on a journey,
In dreams I run wildly
Over a withered moor.