Bush Clover Flowers - Analysis

A small scene that argues for steadiness

Basho’s three lines watch something delicate refuse to give in. The bush-clover flowers “sway” in motion, exposed to wind or passing touch, yet they “do not drop” what they carry: “their beads of dew.” The central claim feels quiet but firm: grace isn’t the absence of disturbance; it’s what holds under disturbance. The poem asks us to notice not drama, but restraint—an ordinary plant performing a kind of disciplined balance.

“Beads of dew”: weight, beauty, and risk

The dew is called “beads,” turning moisture into something almost countable, like jewelry or prayer beads—small treasures strung on the flowers. But beads also imply weight. Dew is both beautiful and precarious: it is made to fall, to evaporate, to vanish. That’s why the line “they sway but do not drop” carries a mild suspense. The tone is calm, even admiring, yet it leans toward wonder: how can something so light keep something so easily lost?

Movement versus release

The poem’s key tension is between motion and letting go. Swaying usually shakes things loose; here it doesn’t. The flowers cooperate with the wind without surrendering what’s on them. Read one way, it’s simply accurate observation. Read another, it’s an ethical image: a model of yielding without collapsing, of being touched by the world and still keeping what matters—if only for this brief moment before the dew inevitably changes.