Spring passes
and the birds cry out—tears
in the eyes of fishes
Japanese
Original Post
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Caligraphy of geese
against the sky-
the moon seals it.
Buson
Thank you yoko for this lovely thread.
vivid green cedar against winter's bare oak tree red bird sits alone ©Donna Jones
I am enlarging one of your lovely images,
but sorry I can't get rid of this blurry image.
the bird sings softly the leaves dance so gracefully becomes forever dream
Pabon
ink through calamus the poet feathers his art with plumes of bird songs
Inman
spring birdsong . . .
unopened the longest,
the heaviest present
http://www.graceguts.com/haiku-and-senryu/bird-haiku
Thank you yoko for this lovely and colourful post.
Like Vicky, I will enlarge one of your images.
cool summer night—
a full moon
frames the bird feeder
http://www.graceguts.com/haiku-and-senryu/bird-haiku
Adding one of yoko's images
Bluer than sapphire
Singing from a budding tree
Indigo bunting.
https://ahaikueachday.wordpress.com/tag/bird/
Ethereal song
Liquid notes that spiral up
Vanish into air.
https://ahaikueachday.wordpress.com/tag/bird/
Thank you yoko for the very beautiful haiku and images.
The hummingbird is beautiful.
Thank you yoko.
by D.H. Lawrence
I can imagine, in some otherworld
Primeval-dumb, far back
In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed,
Humming-birds raced down the avenues.
Before anything had a soul,
While life was a heave of matter, half inanimate,
This little bit chipped off in brilliance
And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems.
I believe there were no flowers then,
In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation.
I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak.
Probably he was big
As mosses, and little lizards, they say, were once big.
Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster.
We look at him through the wrong end of the telescope of Time,
Luckily for us.
You can help migratory birds:
Protect their habitat in your community and yard.
Reduce hazards to birds. Avoid pesticide use, make windows safer and supervise your pets when outside.
Talking of migratory birds, I read this in Canadian Wildlife:
Migratory birds are good indicators of the health of the environment because they are relatively easy to study - what is bad for birds is often bad for humans.
The topic is getting off bird haiku, but these facts are good to know.
Pale pink reflections
On a blackbird’s glossy wing
Springtime cherry tree.
Japanese saying
Lovely to see all the birds.
Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.
Rabindranath Tagore
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/bird.html
Thank you yoko for this lovely thread.
My heart is like a singing bird.
Christina Rossetti
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/bird.html
Thank you yoko for this very lovely thread.
Thank you yoko for this lovely topic.
hummingbird at the window
—my blink
startles it away
All kinds have arrived back from the south. It is nice to hear their song when I walk to work in the morning.
Thank you yoko for the lovely topic.
You are right, the birds are back and it is nice to hear them singing and communicating with each other.
squawk of a jay—
walking sticks left
at the trailhead
http://www.graceguts.com/haiku-and-senryu/bird-haiku
“...as the slow sea sucked at the shore and then withdrew, leaving the strip of seaweed bare and the shingle churned, the sea birds raced and ran upon the beaches. Then that same impulse to flight seized upon them too. Crying, whistling, calling, they skimmed the placid sea and left the shore. Make haste, make speed, hurry and begone; yet where, and to what purpose? The restless urge of autumn, unsatisfying, sad, had put a spell upon them and they must flock, and wheel, and cry; they must spill themselves of motion before winter came.”
―
Spring departs.
Birds cry
Fishes’ eyes are filled with tears
I like to wash,
the dust of this world
In the droplets of dew.
Sparrow, spare
The horsefly
Dallying in flowers.
Basho Matsuo
Faith is the bird that feels the light
when the dawn is still dark.
Rabindranath Tagore
Oh, bird of my soul, fly away now,
For I possess a hundred fortified towers.
Rumi
A Short Analysis of Emily Dickinson’s ‘Hope is the thing with feathers’
‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
https://interestingliterature....thing-with-feathers/
bee pollinates blooms
hummingbird nips at nectar
flurry of wee wings
| Poem Details | by Carolyn Devonshire |
| a strange flower | |
| for birds and butterflies | |
the autumn sky Basho
|
| Where cuckoo | |
| Vanishes - | |
| An island. | |
| higher than a skylark | |
| resting in the sky | |
on a mountain pass Basho |
| Even these long days | |
| are not nearly long enough | |
| for the skylarks to sing |
This is a lovely thread. many birds are flying south, but also many are staying here.
jays squawk
from redwood tops—
the hush of distant traffic
distant birdsong—
a small leaf falls
down the back of my neck
‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
Emily Dickinson
Thank you girls for bringing back this post, and thank you yoko for the original post.
Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell:
Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters -
I've a Tale to tell.
Little Birds are feeding
Justices with jam,
Rich in frizzled ham:
Rich, I say, in oysters
Haunting shady cloisters -
That is what I am.
Little Birds are teaching
Tigresses to smile,
Innocent of guile:
Smile, I say, not smirkle -
Mouth a semicircle,
That's the proper style!
Little Birds are sleeping
All among the pins,
Where the loser wins:
Where, I say, he sneezes
When and how he pleases -
So the Tale begins.
Little Birds are writing
Interesting books,
To be read by cooks:
Read, I say, not roasted -
Letterpress, when toasted,
Loses its good looks.
Little Birds are playing
Bagpipes on the shore,
Where the tourists snore:
"Thanks!" they cry. "'Tis thrilling!
Take, oh take this shilling!
Let us have no more!"
Little Birds are bathing
Crocodiles in cream,
Like a happy dream:
Like, but not so lasting -
Crocodiles, when fasting,
Are not all they seem!
Little Birds are choking
Baronets with bun,
Taught to fire a gun:
Taught, I say, to splinter
Salmon in the winter -
Merely for the fun.
Little Birds are hiding
Crimes in carpet-bags,
Blessed by happy stags:
Blessed, I say, though beaten -
Since our friends are eaten
When the memory flags.
Little Birds are tasting
Gratitude and gold,
Pale with sudden cold:
Pale, I say, and wrinkled -
When the bells have tinkled,
And the Tale is told.
William Blake
Thank you for bringing back my post.
Alone he cries
The motherless bird...
autumn dusk.
Issa
“The bird dares to break the shell, then the shell breaks open and the bird can fly openly. This is the simplest principle of success. You dream, you dare and and you fly.”
―
Thank you Vicky for bringing back Inda's beautiful post.
yellow bird haiku
a charm of finches
share flying stories in chirp
young boast new feathers
share flying stories in chirp
young boast new feathers
Miracles come
from offerings to the Goddess
shining on blossoms
Bird of good fortune builds
her nest with the hemp.
Basho
As the years passed by to half a century,
asleep I hovered among morning clouds and evening dusk,
awake I was astonished at the voices
of mountain streams and wild birds.
Basho
Thank you Sue for bringing back this post.
Miracles come
from offerings to the Goddess
shining on blossoms
Bird of good fortune builds
her nest with the hemp.
Basho
A solitary hawk
I am happy to find
Cape Isago.
Matsu Basho
Lie on the ground and listen to the grass, Hear the silent signals from outer space, Dream by making and make by dreaming, Feel what the trees bathed in sunlight feel, Gaze far to see the sea-gull emerging from the sea, Imagine that today is the birth of the world and greet it,Greet the old bird.
In alien lands I keep the body Of ancient native rites and things: I gladly free a little birdie At celebration of the spring.
I'm now free for consolation, And thankful to almighty Lord: At least, to one of his creations I've given freedom in this world!
