I love this old-fashioned rose bred by rosarian David Austen, but it seems to attract trouble. Last year, it developed the dread Black Spot, and this year the buds seemed blasted, as if by frost. I planned to cut them off and give repeat bloom another chance, but didn't get it done, and suddenly, blossoms! Slightly different in color than last year, but very lovely.
I have been looking again at Jane Reichhold's magnificent book of Basho's haiku, Basho: the complete haiku, Kodansha, 2008, 2013, ever since reading the heartfelt and lovely tribute to her work in the preface to Moon Woke Me Up Nine Times; selected haiku of Basho, Knopf, 2013, by David Young.
So here is one of Basho's haiku from Jane's book, from page 56. It has a headnote, which haiku most often do not, but which makes me giggle.
The summer onion withers before a scouring rush,
and the leaf of a yam is defeated by that of a lotus . .
dew on roses
the rapeseed flowers's faces