Three Haiku

Dream, creep. With frail leafs
Whisper, regret. With quick shells
Laugh, hide: returning.

Above the white sky,
As the awkward mountain strays,
I sink; the oak dies.

Sad grove, muddy rock.
The deep, simple valley soars.
Swift flame, free clearing.

The haiku form of Japanese poetry epitomizes pith and vigor. In just three lines, and only about 17 syllables, the masters of the form are famed for their subtlety. In one brief poetical glance they may capture a fleeting perception, or a moment of insight — a transfixed living thought, still quivering. So it is said. The three haiku above were written a moment ago by Haiku Writer, a simple computer program. In just three lines, and exactly 17 syllables, Haiku Writer does its level best. One day, these poems could conceivably be all that remains of human civilization. Fortunately, they are plentiful and then some. Reload the page for a new set.