Yo no naka wo
Nani ni tatoemu
Asaborake
Kogiyuku fune no
Ato no shiranami

To what shall I compare
This world?
To the white wake behind
A ship that has rowed away
At dawn!
-- The Priest Mansei (c.720)

Wasuraruru
Mi wo ba omowazu
Chikaiteshi
Hito no inochi no
Oshiku mo aru kana

It does not matter
That I am forgotten,
But I pity
His forsworn life.
-- Lady Ukon

These are from the Gosenshu, 951 AD (found in this anthology). In the first, I like the image of the ship that's departed. That one image carries in it a melancholy sense of life's passing, a reminder that the things of the earth are (like the waves) temporary, and a reminder that earthly life is just a shadow of something else of greater solidity. In the second I love that the speaker, in contrast to the usual poetic practice of bemoaning one's loss and pain, accepts it and sees clearly enough to have compassion for the restless casanova who betrayed her.

There are, of course, many haiku and waka with nature for their theme, and I have to admit I find most of them boring. Yes, an image of the moon reflecting in a pond, or an autumn leaf falling from a tree is pleasant, but it doesn't really reach any particular emotion in me. The ones that catch my attention are a brief glimpse of a person, or have some human element. I suppose I'd say the same about western poetry, and art in general. pictures (image-pictures or word-pictures) of nature are often nice and look/sound interesting, but they're just pictures. which I guess makes me wonder why I have been taking so many pictures of flowers and leaves and so few of people lately.

In the sea of Iwami
By the cape of Kara,
There amid the stones under sea
Grows the deep-sea miru weed;
There along the rocky strand
Grows the sleek sea tangle.

Like the swaying sea tangle,
Unresisting would she lie beside me--
My wife whom I love with a love
Deep as the miru-growing ocean.
But few are the nights
We two have lain together.

Away I have come, parting from her
Even as the creeping vines do part.
My heart aches within me;
I turn back to gaze--
But because of the yellow leaves
Of Watari Hill,
Flying and fluttering in the air,
I cannot see plainly
My wife waving her sleeve to me.
Now as the moon, sailing through the cloud-rift
Above the mountain of Yakami,
Disappears, leaving me full of regret,
So vanishes my love out of sight;
Now sinks at last the sun,
Coursing down the western sky.

I thought myself a strong man,
But the sleeves of my garment
Are wetted through with tears.

-- Kakinomoto Hitomaro (seventh century), from the Man'Yoshu

As I think I've mentioned, I've been seeking out Japanese literature lately and just picked up this anthology. Something about the imagery in the poem really caught my attention. I like the comparison of his wife to the "swaying sea tangle" -- there's something very feminine about the image of undersea plants swaying in the current that works perfectly.