Showing posts with label Lafcadio Hearn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lafcadio Hearn. Show all posts

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Butterfly and the Moth Redux: Buson and Billy Collins


Following on the discussion of Buson and Billy Collins from this Wednesday's post, I received a very informative email from Charles Trumbull, editor of Modern Haiku. His email contained some salient information, plus variant translations of the temple bell / butterfly haiku, so I asked and received his kind permission to reprint it in full. For those who didn't read the original post, here are the two poems that were discussed:


----Butterfly
sleeping
----on the temple bell
Buson






Japan

Today I pass the time reading
a favorite haiku,
saying the few words over and over.

It feels like eating
the same small, perfect grape
again and again.

I walk through the house reciting it
and leave its letters falling
through the air of every room.

I stand by the big silence of the piano and say it.
I say it in front of a painting of the sea.
I tap out its rhythm on an empty shelf.

I listen to myself saying it,
then I say it without listening,
then I hear it without saying it.

And when the dog looks up at me,
I kneel down on the floor
and whisper it into each of his long white ears.

It's the one about the one-ton temple bell
with the moth sleeping on its surface,

and every time I say it, I feel the excruciating
pressure of the moth
on the surface of the iron bell.

When I say it at the window,
the bell is the world
and I am the moth resting there.

When I say it at the mirror,
I am the heavy bell
and the moth is life with its papery wings.

And later, when I say it to you in the dark,
you are the bell,
and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you,

and the moth has flown
from its line
and moves like a hinge in the air above our bed.
Billy Collins




The gist of my musings was why Collins chose to go with "moth" rather than "butterfly," which is how most translations have it. Here's what Charlie has to say:



I read with interest your bit about the Buson haiku and Billy Collins. Here’s some background that may be of use to you.

The haiku by Buson (note, no macron over the O)

釣鐘に止りてねむる胡蝶 かな
tsurigane ni tomarite nemuru kochô kana


is indeed one of his most famous and most often translated. Harold Henderson, in his Introduction to Haiku, renders it literally as follows:

Temple-bell-on settling sleep butterfly kana


where “kana” is a kireji, a word in Japanese that governs the relationship between two parts of a sentence and here is a sort of unvoiced sigh or sotto voce “that’s so.”

Collins apparently saw the translation that was published in X.J. Kennedy’s Introduction to Poetry:

On the one-ton temple bell

On the one-ton temple bell
a moon moth, folded into sleep,
sits still


I haven’t checked my copy, but Kennedy probably got the version from someplace else. This translation is typical of early English translations of haiku, adding words and notions for their poetic values as well as unnecessary titles.

Neither my Japanese nor my Japanese dictionary are good enough for me to know the exact meaning of “kochô,” the name used by Buson for the insect. “Butterfly” is more commonly “chôcho,” while “moth” is “ga.”

Here is a handful of other translations, with translator and published source:


Silence

A frail white butterfly, beneath the spell
Of noon, is sleeping on the huge bronze bell

Harold Stewart
Stewart, Net of Fireflies, 52

Asleep in the sun
on the temple’s silent bronze
bell, a butterfly

Behn, Harry
Behn, Cricket Songs


Butterfly
sleeping
on the temple bell.

Robert Hass
Hass, Essential Haiku (1994), 108


Butterfly asleep
Folded soft on temple bell …
Then bronze gong rang!

Beilenson, Peter
Japanese Haiku (1955); Haiku Garland (1968); Little Treasury (1980)


Clinging to the bell
he dozes so peacefully
this new butterfly

Sam Hamill
Hamill, trans, Sound of Water; Hamill, trans, Little Book of Haiku, 61

on a temple bell
alighted and sleeping
this butterfly

William J. Higginson
Modern Haiku 35:2 (summer 2004), 52 (a)


On the great temple bell
stopped from flight and sleeping
the small butterfly

Miner, Earl
Miner, Japanese Linked Poetry; Bowers, Classic Tradition


On the hanging bell,
staying while he sleeps,
a butterfly!

Sawa Yuki and Edith Marcombe Shiffert
Haiku Master Buson


On the temple bell
has settled, and is fast asleep,
a butterfly.

Harold G. Henderson
Henderson, Introduction; Modern Haiku 4:3 (1973), 51 (a); Frogpond 14:2 (summer 1991), 31 (a)


On the temple bell
Something rests in quiet sleep.
Look, a butterfly!

Buchanan, Daniel C.
Buchanan, One Hundred Famous Haiku (1973), 65


On the temple bell,
Settled down and fast asleep
A butterfly.

Harold G. Henderson
Henderson, Introduction; Modern Haiku 3:2 (1972), 26 (a)


On the temple’s great
Bronze bell, a butterfly sleeps
In the noon sun

Beilenson, Peter, and Harry Behn
Haiku Harvest


Perched upon the temple-bell, the butterfly sleeps!
Hearn, Lafcadio
Hearn, Kwaidan


The buttefly
Resting upon the temple bell,
Asleep.

R.H. Blyth
Blyth, Haiku II—Spring, 258



Best,

Charlie




I checked my copy of Introduction to Poetry by Kennedy and, coincidentally, Buson and Collins are listed next to each other alphabetically in the "Lives of the Poets" section. The translation is Kennedy's own, though he has another poem by Buson translated by Robert Hass. In two romanized Japanese/English dictionaries I checked at the library, kochô was listed as butterfly, but I'll defer to Charlie since I also found chôcho listed as butterfly in a third.

So, though the mystery still remains, we've ended up with a wealth of useful information and a wonderful selection of different ways Buson's poem has been translated. I was particularly thrilled to see a beautiful version by Lafcadio Hearn, the subject of a post here recently, and a typically taciturn, precise version by R. H. Blyth.

Many, many thanks to Charles Trumbull for all the great information and the various translations. Only one question remains:

Will we wake up before the big bell rings?


best,
Don

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Lafcadio Hearn: a Geographic Biography



Today, Lafcadio Hearn is probably best remembered for his artful adaptation of Japanese folktales and ghost stories, including the collection Kwaidan (full text from google books), subtitled "Stories and Studies of Strange Things." He certainly was instrumental in the introduction of Japanese culture to the West in the late 19th century. He lived an amazing, storied life which is captured skeletally in a Wikipedia article. Coincidentally, two versions of his life have been done as geographic biographies, tracing it via the places he lived and went (giving that storied part of his life a different sort of multi-dimensional spin). The website Exploring Lafcadio Hearn is one. Another is the following video presentation, entitled Lafcadio Hearn's footprint in Matsue (notice how in every picture of him, he looks away from the camera: he was blind in one eye from an early age):





His range and diversity was astounding; he was a translator, journalist, lecturer, fiction writer (primarily long short stories), literary adapter, essayist, and prolific letter writer. Prolific is the buzzword; in A Lafcadio Hearn Companion, author Robert Gale posits that the 12 volume American edition of his Selected Works contains about 90% of his best work. An 18 volume edition (over 11,000 pages) was published by the Japanese, still not complete. Many supplemental volumes of newspaper collections, letters and other uncollected works have been published. Gale predicts a complete edition of his works will never be published.

There are quite a few volumes of his work available in full view online, including his poetic studies of the Pre-Raphelites. The Online Books Page has even more. Back in the 1890's Hearn wrote articles for the Atlantic Monthly. Some of these are up online, centered around an article on Hearn, Almost as Japanese as Haiku. There is also an article available on Hearn and Japanese Buddhism by the famed poet, translator, critic and Japanese studies scholar Kenneth Rexroth. A hyper-text concordance of 4 of his books may be found at the Victorian Literary Studies Archive.





Here is a small excerpt from the conclusion of "Yuki-Onna," a ghost tale from Kwaidan. It is the story of a man who has a strange, supernatural experience in his youth, who later meets a beautiful woman who becomes his "perfect" wife, helping him nurse his ailing mother and bearing him many children. One evening, as they sit talking in their hut ...



---One night, after the children had gone to sleep, O-Yuki was sewing by the light of a paper lamp; and Minokichi, watching her said:
---"To see you sewing there, with the light on your face, makes me think of a stange thing that happened when I was a lad of eighteen. I then saw somebody as beautiful and white as you are now - indeed, she was very like you."...
---Without lifting her eyes from her work, O-Yuki responded:
---"Tell me about her . . . . Where did you see her?"
---Then Minokichi told her about the terrible night in the ferryman's hut - and about the White Woman that had stooped over him, smiling and whispering - and about the silent death of old Mosaku. And he said:
---"Asleep or awake, that was the only time that I saw a being as beautiful as you. Of course, she was not a human being; and I was afraid of her - very much afraid - but she was so white! . . . Indeed, I have never been sure whether it was a dream that I saw or the Woman of the Snow." . . .
---O-Yuki flung down her sewing, and arose, and bowed above Minokichi where he sat, and shrieked into his face:
---"It was I - I - I! Yuki it was! And I told you then that I would kill you if you ever said one word about it! . . . But for those children asleep there, I would kill you this moment! And now you had better take very, very good care of them; for if ever they have reason to complain of you, I will treat you as you deserve!" . . .
---Even as she screamed, her voice became thin, like a crying of wind; - then melted into a bright white mist that spired to the roofbeams and shuddered away through the smoke-hole. . . . . Never again to be seen.




Kwaidan remains his most remembered work, I believe, because the supernatural and horror elements make a universal (and shocking) impression that other genres sometimes do not. This trailer for Kwaidan, a movie adaptation I highly recommend, comes from YouTube. Check it out; there are no subtitles but fear is, indeed, a universal language. No translation necessary (it is, of course, available with subtitles, just not on YouTube). "Yuki-Onna" is briefly seen ...







scarecrows at dusk
darkening...
human faces
Issa
Daniel Lanoue








best,
Don


*** A note. This post was prepared before my recent computer problems, hence the images. I'm trying any number of possibilities to address the issue. Stay tuned. ***