枯れる
12 poems of withering.
かれる · in 12 of the 701 poems of Sōmokutō
- withered right through and turned to beansThe Begging Bowl
- where there's a stone, where there's grass, it's witheredWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- drinking sake, the mountain is witheredWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- all withered now — the bush clover and the pampas grass, both soakedWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- when sun strikes the withered pampas grass, as if someone might comeWalking Mountains, Walking Waters
- at the beauty of the withering grass I sit downA Landscape of Weeds
- a loquat withers a loquat sprouts — living aloneA Landscape of Weeds
- already withering the blades of grass in the rainA Landscape of Weeds
- warmly the grass has withered awayPersimmon Leaves
- nothing left to cling to the vine withersPersimmon Leaves
- the grasses their beautiful way of witheringPersimmon Leaves
- withered pampas grass, withered utterly — the snow piling downCold and Alone
Withering was not an ending but a kind of completion. He often sat down beside dying grass. “The grasses their beautiful way of withering.”