The comparison between a Japanese Haiku and an old Chinese poem!

Provoked rhythm Accumulating the thoughts, provoked is my rhythm, how nostalgic are the memories, bound to be the anthem. Significance of memory loads, looks for caresses in them, the entanglement of thoughts,

How long will I keep burning in your flame? How long will you still turn away from me? How many friends will turn from me in shame? How long will I still hurt? How long will you be free?

Oh, when you remind me of her door, I feel the rapture bubbling up once more. How can I forget that blessing, ever, When you bring to mind long buried treasure?

I went to my love on a moment's thought. She said, "Go away from my door. You are drunk." "Open the door," I said, "I am not." "Go away," she said, "You are

I would shake the dust from my coat, and rise If I realized my own perfection. I would rush to the sky, empty and light; My head would be high as the ninth heaven.

If my head holds one thought wise and clear, it's you. Poor as I am, what I hold dear is you. No matter how I see myself, I'm nothing. Anything I am entirely is you.

I asked you for one kiss, you gave me six. What teacher taught you, that you're such an expert? You're so deep a source of goodness, so kind That you've set the world free a thousand times.

Look again, and see how much I need you; Watch the long nights that I lie here awake. No, I am wrong: the distance between us Will not let me live to see you again.

With a smile biting those two ruby lips, How beautifully, idol, you've come to life! Stealing my heart that day was not enough; Today you're back, intent upon my life.

I'm not me, you're not you, and you're not me; And yet I'm me, you're you, and you are me. Beauty of Khotan, I am this because of you: Confused if I am you, or you are me.

The lovely one whispers under her breath, And you go mad, witless, no reason left... O Lord, what is this chant, what magic art That weaves its spell on even a stone heart?

If I was not so pitifully in love I wouldn't then be standing at your door. Don't say, "Go away, don't stand at my door!" I wouldn't exist, my dear, if I didn't stand here.

God forbid I'd compare the moon to your face Or the tall cypress to your stature and grace. Where in the moon are ruby sweet lips to be found? What cypress sways with the luminous grace of your ways?

The face she shows me is a little sour, Though sugar has never tasted sweeter. Sugar would be bored by its own sweetness If it ever came to know that sour flavor.

Every one knows that day comes after night and after every hardship there will be some amount of ease. Well, I too believe in something like that The storm is at its peak and it is raining like hell When

Frustrated moods can often make one mad. When something does not go the way you expect, you start fearing the fear and everything starts looking darker. Life goes on without me but I don't care The past

My flower got pluck by somebody else And it just made me cry I was sure it was already mine Every time I passed it by

Water Falling down makes me more feeble The more i avoid the more it tends to dribble To forget means to remember which calls for my downcast contemplating on it, I consider becoming an outcast

Inhalate the viridescent smokes tint Inaugurate thy lungs, euphoric thus Oh! Exhalate the crystal vapours glint To find oneself in verdant dreams alas Image Courtesy of saibo