discarding drown plants
setting new seedlings
by the cold wet stone
spring hatchlings chirp
tears dried, visits lessen
conversation growing thin
(Image created in photoshop elements)
I found a French haiku and a tanka that I liked. I only speak English but my attempt to write in French follows at the end
at the end of the street
two piles of stones keep watch
over the old orchard
haiku by French Canadian poet André Duhaime
In the shadow woven
By its thin silver treads
It always sleeps
Sometimes a dream of wing comes prawling
A thrill passes all over the web
tanka by French tanka masterRené Galichet
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.
© Rabindranath Tagore
we hurl through space
at breakneck speeds lost
forgetting how to breath
through the eons you wait for
your stiff-necked people to change