おちる
12 poems of dropping.
in 12 of the 701 poems of Sōmokutō
- watching the moon go down and I am aloneThe Begging Bowl
- coming down without cease the big leavesThe Begging Bowl
- as if someone had come — only a loquat leaf fallingOne Man Within
- at last the post has come, and after that only ripe persimmons fallingWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- gathering the fruit that ripens and fallsWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- the camellia falls, the water flowsWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- in the blaze of noon, a single leaf fallsWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- thinking of nothing the persimmon leaves fall and fallPersimmon Leaves
- thinking of Sumita the persimmon leaves fall and fallPersimmon Leaves
- a taro happened to be lying there so I make taro gruelPersimmon Leaves
- the leaves fallen no leaves left to fall the sunPersimmon Leaves
- where the streams meet here — the sound, the mountain cherriesThe Crow
A ripe persimmon drops, a camellia drops, a leaf drops. Waiting for things to fall was the day’s whole work at the hermitage. “Thinking of Sumita the persimmon leaves fall and fall.”