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August 14 - August 22, 2019
Historically, haiku stem from twelfth-century renga (literally “linked songs” or “linked verses” —the word for poem and song in Japanese is the same), an elegant literary pastime in which poets, singly or in groups, improvised connecting stanzas to create long poems of up to 10,000 verses. Renga were interlocking chains of 17 syllables (5-7-5), preceded or followed by 14 syllables (7-7), with each tercet and couplet producing a poem in itself.
So Japan developed the (Hip-Hop) cipher.
Iio Sōgi (1421-1502)1 yuki nagara / yamamoto kasumu / yūbe kana2 Snow yet remaining The mountain slopes are misty — An evening in spring
yama kawa mo / kimi ni yoru yo o / itsuka min shall we ever see the time your reign brings lasting peace to all hills and streams
ayafuki kuni ya / tami mo kurushiki and will the land not fall in ruin with its commoners in distress
Yasuhara Teishitsu (1609–1673)3 kore wa kore wa / to bakari hana no / yoshino yama4 Uttering only “Oh! Oh! Oh!” I roam over Yoshino hill ablow. IN Look at that! and that! Is all I can say of the blossoms At Yoshino Mountain.
Bashō's favorite haiku (or hakku).
Nishiyama Sōin (1605–1682) ikani ikani / hana mo koyoi no / tsuki ichirin No, no, not even the cherry blooms, can equal the moon of tonight.
Villages may lack Sea bream or flowers but they all have tonight’s moon. AK
Ihara Saikaku
I have gazed at it now For two years too long — The Moon of the Floating World.
kumo oriori / hito ni yasumuru / tsukimi kana Clouds now and again give a soul some respite from moon-gazing — behold BLE
Bashō haiku
A surging sea . . . reaching over Sado Isle the Galaxy SF the rough sea — flowing toward Sado Isle the River of Heaven MU
Basō haiku
Summer grasses where stalwart soldiers once dreamed dreams MU The summer grass! ’Tis all that’s left Of ancient warriors’ dreams IN Old battle-field, fresh with spring flowers again All that is left of the dream Of twice ten thousand warriors slain.
Bashō's haiku-elegy on Yoshitsune
Ill on a journey All about the dreary fields Fly my broken dreams
Bashō's last haiku
Towering alone against the autumn sky — Mount Fuji CAC
Uejima Onitsura haiku
A warm day, But there’s a chill In the winter sun.
Possibly my favorite haiku in this anthology.
Kaga no Chiyo (1703–1775)2 hototogisu / hototogisu tote / akeni keri3 While I was musing on my theme, Repeating “cuckoo,” day has dawned. AM Cuckoo! Again cuckoo! Again the daylight too! CHP
This may be the most radical departure in translation I've yet encountered in this book.
No autumn colors tint that side of the mountain: a one-sided love JB
Kaga no Chiyo
Bashō departed And since then The year has never ended.
Buson
For the cuckoo I wait here in the capital beneath the vain skies of hoping MM
Buson
On the great temple bell stopped from flight and sleeping the small butterfly EM
Buson
chirite nochi / omokage ni tatsu / botan kana After they’ve fallen, their image remains in the mind — those peonies
Seems Buson had a thing for falling petals.
musasabi no / kotori hamiiru / kareno kana2 a flying squirrel sits chewing on a bird withered field MM
Buson thought this was his best poem.
shiraume ni / akuru yo bakari to / narinikeri3 For white plum blossoms, time has come for the day to break
Buson's final haiku.
samidare ya / aru yo hisoka ni / matsu no tsuki All the rains of June: and one evening, secretly, through the pines, the moon. HGH
Ōshima Ryōta
Tagami Kikusha-ni (1753–1826)1 tama ni ge ni / mokutō ya tada / michi no tsuki In spirit and in truth silent prayer . . . just the moon on the road WJH
Young sparrows, get out of the way! get out of the way! A great horse is coming by! AM
Issa. He seems to have had a rough life.
kago no tori / chō o urayamu / metsuki kana Ah, the sad expression in the eyes of that caged bird — envying the butterfly!
Issa. Proto-Paul Laurence Dunbar here.
haikai no / kuchisugi ni / sakura kana7 Cherry blossoms made for haikai poets to exploit MB
Issa. I like a poet with a fourth-wall type of awareness—gives him a post-modern edge.
people scattered the leaves too scattered and spread
Issa. I like the analogy used here.
Life is but the morning dew, bards say; ’Tis true, indeed, but well-a-day! AM The world of dew is, yes, a world of dew, but even so HS The world of dew Is a world of dew, and yet And yet. . .
Issa
harusame ya / kasa sashite miru / ezōshiya6 spring rain browsing under my umbrella at the picture-book store
Shiki. Possibly the first haiku poet to speak/write in English. Was an English teacher.
