Taneda Santôka (Dec 3, 1882 - Oct 11, 1940).

Santoka's life may seem tragic. Son of a womanizing father who lost the family property through an unwise business venture; a mother who committed suicide by throwing herself into a well when he was eight; himself a university dropout; failed jobs; alcoholism; a failed marriage; a series of nervous breakdowns; a suicide attempt which failed*. How could such a man have become one of Japan's best-loved poets?

"What I forever aspire to," he wrote later in his diary, "is a mind calm and free from pressure, a realm of roundness, wholeness... I have to walk, walk, walk** until I get there."

The open road was to become his home and his monastery.

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Just as it is —
it rains, I get wet, I walk

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nearly run over
by a car
cold cold road

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A whole day in the mountains;
Ants are walking, too.

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Within life and death
snow ceaselessly falls.

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Westerners like to conquer mountains;
Orientals like to contemplate them.
As for me, I like to taste the mountains.

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In the calm stillness
after the rainstorm:
flies.

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Nice road
leading to a nice building:
a crematorium.

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all day I said nothing
the sound of waves

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It's a straight road
That makes me feel lonely.

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Today again
no letters.
Only butterflies.

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the moon's brightness
does it know
where the bombing will be?

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In the water,
A traveler's reflection -
As I pass.

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nothing left of the house
I was born in,
fireflies

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baggage I cannot throw off
so heavy front and back

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the deeper I go
the deeper I go
green mountains

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Rain in my eyes:
I can't read the signpost.

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When I die:
weeds,
falling rain.

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Burning my old diary,
Ashes -
Only this much?

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The Milky Way,
At midnight -
A drunkard dances.

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Even the sound of the raindrops
Has grown older.

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No money, no possessions,
no teeth -
all alone.

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My heart's exhausted -
the mountains, the sea
are too beautiful.

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My begging-bowl
accepts the falling leaves.

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This trip -
An endless trip,
Tsu-ku-tsu-ku-boshi***.

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Mountains I'll never see again
fade in the distance.

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Pissing blood -
how long will I be able
to carry on?

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* - one night in December 1924 he planted himself on a Kumamoto railroad track and, arms raised, stared down an oncoming trolley. The trolley screeched to a halt, at which, according to one version of the story, an exasperated passenger leapt off, collared the wretch, and dragged him to a Zen temple for discipline.
** - he is said to have walked more than 45000 km (tas ir vairāk nekā apkārt Zemei pa ekvatoru), starting out each morning penniless and with no food, and not knowing where he would stay or even if he would find lodging for the night.
*** - A tsukutsukuboshi is an insect related to the cicada or locust which chirps in a high and shrill trill. It chirps only during the twilight after sunset. It is a melancholic sound for Japanese people.