Tangled Hair/Spring Maiden
Spring Maiden
A patch of snow remains
Like the discarded garment of a maiden
Who has gone to array herself
In a new flowered gown of spring.
’Tis hard to fall asleep
And ride in the carriage of dreams—
So pungent is
The odor of daphne.
The evening moon
Is a young maiden
Who emerges from the mouth of a dungeon
In a pale blue trailing skirt.
On the river bank in summer
A rustic lad
Washes turnips that seem like
Rhinoceros’ teeth.
Little fishes stared at my fingers
As I picked a few white flowers
Of the water-plant in the brook.
I sent you late a fan
Saying: “Paint me a picture.”
It has not yet come back,
And the autumnal wind begins to blow.
Like an actor
A praying-mantis walked out
From behind the crimson chest.
On a snowy day
Through the dark iron grating,
A bear cub sticks out
His little pink toes.