by Takamura Kôtarô
Translated from Japanese by John Peters
Singing dribbles
from a timid and simple cicada.
Red spots on a large oak’s leaves,
in the azure depths of a jewel sky,
before bright faces behind bamboo-blinds,
in front of an ice shop, crimson spots
dazzle and luminesce—
Onions choking in a suburban Tôkyô produce market,
Gnats clinging to a horse’s sore stomach,
The sun, like a thin plank,
slaps my cheek. Continue reading
Hawaii Pacific Review 