Discover Japan's stories—across time, across language.
| Original Title | 六百句 |
|---|---|
| Author | 高浜 虚子 |
| Genre | Modern Short Fiction |
| Author Type | Male Author |
| Summary | Amidst the turbulence of wartime Japan, a quiet refuge emerges in fleeting moments captured through verse. This collection weaves delicate observations of nature’s rhythms—winter peonies unfurling under lamplight, summer butterflies born from splashed water, autumn rains whispering through temple eaves. Each haiku acts as a portal to transient beauty: cherry blossoms fading into faintness, dew-clad mornings, and the weight of frost on a butterfly’s wings. Yet beneath the surface lies an unspoken tension—the shadow of loss, restless hearts mourning scattered blossoms, and echoes of history in receding tides. Seasons shift like turning pages: spring mud clings to sandals, cicadas hum in scorching trees, and winter’s chill sharpens the scent of chrysanthemums. Through teahouse gatherings, shrine visits, and solitary walks, the poet stitches together fragments of life’s fragility and resilience. Here, the ordinary—a farmer’s rest, a spider’s descent—becomes luminous, inviting readers to linger in the spaces between stillness and storm. |