Choosing a haiku to write for winter.

Time to pick a new haiku to practice writing in 習字 lessons! Endless possibilities, but I'd like to have practiced at least one from each of the four (relatively recent) masters (Bashou, Issa, Buson, and Shiki), so for now I'm focusing on them. Below are some winter haiku I've found online from Buson, with lame attempts at translation by me and no attempt whatsoever at poeticizing.

(I imagine most of them are way off, but it's the best I can do. I was fortunate to find a partial of Shirane's excellent textbook on classical Japanese, which I hope to have in hand soon, and some other resources, but still I find it very mysterious—though also very rewarding.)

寒月や門なき寺の天高し
kangetsu ya mon naki tera no amatakashi
winter moon—gateless temple, height of the sky

寒垢離や上（かみ）の町まで来たりけり
kangori ya kami no machi made kitarikeri
winter (cold-water) ablutions / arriving at (or due to) / the neighborhood of the gods (a red-light district? 京島原遊廓内)

磯ちどり足をぬらして遊びけり
iso chidori ashi o nurashite asobikeri
plover on rocky beach, dipping its foot into the water, playing

狐火の燃へつくばかり枯尾花
kitsunehi no moetsuku bakari kareobana
withered pampas grass—only the will o' the wisp glows

待人の足音遠き落葉哉
machibito no ashioto touki ochiba kana
distant footsteps of the person you're waiting for; fallen leaves

西吹ケば東にたまる落葉かな
nishi fukeba, higashi (azuma?) ni tamaru ochiba kana
the west wind blows; fallen leaves gather in the east

河豚の面世上の人を白眼（にら）ム哉
fugu no omo sejou no hito o niramu kana
the puffer-fish's mask glowers at the people on land

楠の根を静にぬらす時雨哉
kusa no ne o shizuka ni nurasu shigure kana
early winter drizzle...quietly soaks the camphor root

しぐるゝや我も古人の夜に似たる
shigururu ya waga (ware) mo kojin no yoru ni niru
drizzling—i too look like an old man's night?

茶のはなや石をめぐりて路を取
cha no hanaya ishi o megurite michi o toru
the flower-arranger for tea takes a path around the pebble

里過て古江に鴛（をし）を見付たり
sato sugite Furue ni oshi o mitsuketari
passing beyond hometown, in Furue i see a mallard

こがらしや畠の小石目に見ゆる
kogarashi ya hatake no koseki (koishi) me ni miyuru
winter wind—the eye sees a pebble in the field

凩やこの頃までは荻（おぎ）の風
kogarashi ya konogoro made ha oki no furi (kaze)
blustery wind, until around now, silvergrass wind (or shaking/waving of silvergrass)

初雪の底を叩けば竹の月
hatsuyuki no soko o tatakeba (hatakeba) take no tsuki
as the first snow ends, bamboo moon

水仙や寒き都のこゝかしこ
suisen ya samuki miyako no koko kashiko
daffodil/narcissus, here and there in the cold capital

この村の人は猿也冬木だち
kono mura no hito ha saru nari fuyukitachi
winter trees—the people of this village are becoming monkeys

足袋はいて寝る夜ものうき夢見哉
tabi haite neru yo mo nouki yumemi kana
socks on, a night to sleep? and maybe to dream

氷る燈の油うかゞ鼠かな
kouru hi no abura ukauka nezumi kana
oil of a frozen lamp; carelessly, a mouse

古池に草履沈ミてみぞれ哉
furuike ni zouri shizumite mizure kana
a sandal sinking into the old pond—sleet

しぐるゝや鼠のわたる琴の上
shigururu ya nezumi no wataru koto no ue
Light winter rain like scampering rat's-feet over my koto

鷺ぬれて鶴に日の照時雨哉
sagi nurete tsuru ni hi no teru (nichi no te) shigure kana
early winter rain—the heron soaked, the crane in sunshine?

斧入て香におどろくや冬こだち
ono haite kaori ni odoroku ya fuyu kodachi
axe cuts; surprised by fragrance from winter grove of trees

我を厭う隣家寒夜に鍋を鳴ラす
ware(waga, wa) o itau rinka kanya ni nabe o narasu
on a cold night, banging pots outside the houses of people who hate me

芭蕉去てそのゝちいまだ年くれず
Bashou sa(ri)te sono nochi imada toshi kurezu
Bashou is gone, and never again will a year end as his did
(I hope one day my Japanese will be good enough to read Bashou's 奥の細道, which is possibly the coolest literary pilgrimage ever.)

(Side note: Shiki also is in Japan's Baseball Hall of Fame. That's beyond awesome.)