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(All images are from Hokusai’s series of ‘Poems Explained by a Wet Nurse.’

The woodcuts were taken from Visipix.com’s site.  The poems are my own.

The series was incomplete, so there are not quite 100.  I shall post on ten

sites, to break them up.)




We store rice- not just

for the Emperor, but for

our families too.




On Perfume Mountain,

in Spring, we spread our garments.

Do you like the view?




The wind curls the smoke;

fishermen drag nets upstream.

The plume- pheasant tail?




When you reach Tago,

only the poet will see

Fuji- San’s splendour.




Autumn need not be

a reminder of our end:

the stag has a mate.




We will meet one dusk,

when the magpies form a bridge

for one night only.




Is this the last time

I’ll see the moon in the lake?

Does she see it too?




I was Emperor –

once, but now dwell in a hut:

my new role is priest.





My beauty has gone.

Nature’s colours have faded.

Still I write poems.




When blindness arrived,

I set my sights no further

than Meeting Hill Gate.