Showing posts with label Issa's Untidy Hut. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Issa's Untidy Hut. Show all posts

Sunday, August 7, 2016

The crane screeches, the cicada's cry: Deep Mystery in the Haiku of Bashō

Photo by Castlelass


In loving memory of the Jane Reichhold, who, among her many accomplishments, is her English language translation of 

------------------------------------



     The crane screeches:
At its voice
     The bashō will surely tear

                         Bashō
                         Translated by R. H. Blyth



In my morning reading (Haiku, v. 4, R. H. Blyth), I ran across the above Bashō poem which I didn't remember but which struck me immediately. It put me in mind of the more famous Bashō poem:


Quietness--
Sinking into the rocks,
A cicada's cry

        Bashō
        Translated by Makota Ueda


Some translations go so far as to say piercing the rock(s), which heightens the mystery inherent in the poem. What struck me here is the relationship between these two pieces, the first a touch more literal, the second, more famous poem, perhaps closer to the mystery.


And what of the mystery? The less said, the more realized? Perhaps the poems are each transcendent moments or, in this case, two moments sharing a certain otherness?


Thinking on these things, I took a break for breakfast, and began reading a review of a book on, believe or not, camping. In the book, as noted by the reviewer, the author made a rather a limp joke referencing one of Leonard Cohen's most famous verses:


Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack in everything 
That's how the light gets in. 


Bad joke or not, as so often happens in my morning reading, the bell rang ... again and again and again.


Leonard Cohen's "Anthem."






my cracked teacup
like Buddha on display...
plum blossoms

             Issa
             trans. by David G. Lanoue



best, 
Don

PS Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku. Here you will find Jane Reichhold's contribution.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Gloria Jaguden & Dennis Garvey: Wednesday Haiku, #229




oval moon
its woman's face
waiting

Gloria Jaguden





 

daylight moon
wearing a shroud
for just this instant

Dennis Garvey




 


which of you owns
that red moon
children?

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don
PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku 

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Patrick Sweeney & Chen-ou Liu: Wednesday Haiku, #228




Chess between adepts
persimmons on
a leafless tree

Patrick Sweeney


Photo by Brendan Adkins



the whiteness
of a cold moon ...
you, slanted eyes

Chen-ou Liu



Photo by Joe Stump



in cherry blossom shade
there are even those
who hate this world

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don
PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku  

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Bart Solarcyzk & Chen-ou Liu: Wednesday Haiku, #226

Photo by Walter A. Aue


going  back
    to say goodbye
                 tomorrow
     Bart Solarcyzk 
 
 

Photo by Vern


summer's end
my footprints in the sand
a little deeper

     Chen-ou Liu


 Photo by davebloggs007



tomorrow morning
a humdrum river beach again?
summer moon

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku 

Friday, December 11, 2015

James W. Hackett (I.M.): 4 Haiku


Recently, I've been re-reading the introduction to Cor van den Heuvel's The Haiku Anthology (3rd ed.) and, when it comes to English language haiku poets, it essentially begins with James W. Hackett and Nick Virgilio. Of course, there were others earlier, but these are two major poets at the beginning of what van den Heuvel speculates may someday be called 'the golden age' of English language haiku.  

This sent me back to a collection of his work, The Way of Haiku: an Anthology of Haiku Poems, Japan Publications, 1969. I read it a few years back and, as is customary when I read poetry books, I have a slip of paper inside that serves the dual function of bookmark and place where I note down the page of poems that are, for me, highlights.

The book is over 250 pages long, 3 haiku to a page, and my note sheet has lots and lots of poems marked. Often I will put a special mark - an asterick or check - next to a page for poems that moved we especially. So, I looked at these first and, of all things, 
a particular image/theme appeared and so here are 3 of the especially highlighted poems:

 Photo by Nebojsa Mladjenovic



Now that I have freed
  the butterfly from the web
    I feel uneasy.


The design that spins 
  the spider, allows him no rest
    until its done.




A long line of web
  loose at both ends, riding free
    on the summer breeze



Photo by Chris Sorge


Early on, Hackett received the imprimatur of haiku guru R. H. Blyth, who, in Hackett, saw the very real possibility for haiku in English. You will note that all the haiku are in the strict 5/7/5 form, with beginning caps and punctuation, as was the prevailing approach of the day.

And none seem worse for that. I could talk a bit about what attracted Hackett to this imagery (and me, as reader, to those images/themes in his work), but perhaps it best to leave the air of mystery.

After all, it is life, isn't it?

One other observation is that the poems are all focused exclusively on nature. "Now that I have freed" is a rare instance of the intrusion of the poet (or any other human) in Hackett's work. The last poem below does not have that intrusion, but in it, I feel, you can sense very real human emotion and, so, not surprisingly, for those of you who know we and my own approach, it is one of my favorites:


Left by the tide
   within a shallowing pool:
        a frantic minnow


Photo by Brad Smith


some stay behind
in the green leaves...
low tide crows
Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku  

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Daryl Nielsen & Elizabeth Crocket: Wednesday Haiku, #224

 Illustration by Helen Stratton


evening image                    
on the lake’s surface
boy that still is

        Daryl Nielsen


Photo by G. dallorto

 

their headstone
whispering out loud

the news they'd want to hear
        Elizabeth Crocket




the lake is slowly
lost in mist...
evening falls

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku 

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Susan Diridoni & Vibeke Laier: Wednesday Haiku, #223

 Photo by Aedallou

 

sans pearls summer peaches
          Susan Diridoni


 

Photo by Mike McCaffrey



summer moon
how tenderly waves
touch paper boats

      Vibeke Laier







the katydid
in the paper bag...
still singing

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku 

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Alexis Rotella & Kanchan Chatterjee: Wednesday Haiku, #220

Photo by Troy Mason


The things
he doesn't say
slow-growing ivy

Alexis Rotella


Photo by Ivo Ivov


summer noon. . .
even the woodpecker's pecking
sounds heavy

Kanchan Chatterjee


Photo by Inderjit Nijjer



geese flying south--
the ducks at the gate
cheer them on

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku 

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Rehn Kovacic & Matthew Moffett: Wednesday Haiku, #219

Image from Talshiarr



Picking up each seed
   the bird bows--
        backyard Buddha

Rehn Kovacic



Photo by Ross




beside themselves
beside the cracked-up pavement
daffodils

Matthew Moffett


Artwork by Hishida Shunso




still plum blossoms
my head, by itself
bows
Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Ida Frelinger & Susan Diridoni: Wednesday Haiku, #218


Image by Tom Simpson via foter




one day at a time
a duckling skids
into the no-wake zone

     Ida Frelinger




Photo by azut via foter



sprouting oaks fugue a welcome

               Susan Diridoni 





Photo by Paul Hudson via foter




my money sprouted wings
and flew away...
the year ends

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Bart Solarcyzk & Lisa Espenmiller: Wednesday Haiku, #214




Her princess dreams
& ragdoll dress
come morning

Bart Solarczyk



Photo by plochingen

 


morning bath
ghosts
rise with the steam

Lisa Espenmiller



Photo by Cecil Beaton



the beggar child prays
with trembling voice...
for a doll
Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

K. Ramesh & Ken Sawitri: Wednesday Haiku, #210

Photo by Ashley van Haeften  wikicommons


full moon rise...
the deer trots back
to the forest
K. Ramesh


Photo by Lyza


sudden shower
the sun flows
into countless paths
Ken Sawitri


Photo by Jane Shivery


even Mr. Moon
is slandered!
evening cool

Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Kala Ramesh & Elmedin Kadric: Wednesday Haiku, #209

Photo by John Morgan



fallen blossom
  the silent  farewell 
deepens the sunset
Kala Ramesh





shadowboxing...
the panhandler
cheers me on
Elmedin Kadric 


Photo by Margherita Ballarin  via foter



lotus blossoms--
the beggar's smoke
wafts over
Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku 

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Chen-ou Liu & Lisa Espenmiller: Wednesday Haiku

Kaji-jo by Chooro Kuniyoshi 



in twilight
cherry petals fall
without a sound
Chen-ou Liu



Photograph by Robert Ashworth



early morning
redwoods shrouded
in the sound of fog
Lisa Espenmiller




Ash man by @doug88888



the cherry tree
that made blossom clouds
becomes charcoal 
Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku  

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Steve Sanfield: a Tribute



Poet and correspondent, David Giannini, contacted me last week to pass on the sad information that haiku master poet, Steve Sanfield, had died. I'd just recently begun to acquaint myself with Sanfield's work in two anthologies of English language haiku which I've been reading over the last couple of months. The first, Haiku in English: The First Hundred Years, edited by Jim Kacian and ..... has a single poem of Steve's and the second, The Unswept Path: Contemporary American Haiku, edited by John Brandi and Dennis Maloney, which has a narrower geographical focus, has a whole section with over 35 poems.

I'll be writing more about both these anthologies in future postings. In one of life's little synchronistic moments, I'd just finished up the section of poems by Steve in Unswept Path when the news of his death came my way.

First, a poem by Sanfield from Unswept Path:


Because I have nothing else
I have begun to love
my sorrow. 


This is as touching as it is universal - at some time in each of our lives we experience the loss of love itself, which is replaced by another kind of love altogether as in this poem. This next poem is something of a prayer, one that would be appropriate each an every morning that a lapsed agnostic rises:


The silence before the dawn:
may it enter
my heart.


Another universal situation, at least as sketched out in the first line, with something of a wish/prayer for all that face it alone. Poem after poem deeply explores the ennui, the sorrow of our days:


to shake all morning
because you touched me 
—a simple bow



This is love, desire, and gratitude, all wrapped in one, in love's full glory. The poet makes us feel the emotion in an extraordinary way. 

And then this remarkable piece:


like a new season
she stands between me
and old sorrows


Remarkable in how the poet captures the transition between two exacting emotional states, the old sorrow we are all so reluctant to give up because our love is still so deeply entwined with it, and the new love standing aside in the path, showing the way. 

Here is so true a definition of love itself, I'm tempted to append it (in my own print copy) to the separate definitions in the unabridged Webster's Dictionary:


each time
surprised by it:
beauty beyond desire  



If these moved you, you can find many different editions of Steve Sanfield's work here. If you'd like to sample a few more poems, this website has a nice representation.  The later will, I'm certain, lead you back to the former. 

By the way, Sanfield called many of his poems 'hoops,' instead of haiku, and here is the reason he gave:


"I call them hoops rather than haiku, because haiku is a Japanese word for a poem usually written according to very specific guidelines. I wanted to step beyond those lines and also add another season—the season of the heart. And further, as Black Elk says, "that is because the Power of the world always worked in circles and everything tries to be round. In the old days when we were a strong and happy people, all our power came to us from the sacred hoop of the nation, and as long as the hoop was unbroken, the people flourished." 1.

Love, loss and sorrow were obviously major points of focus for Steve Sanfield. This last poem is the only one in Haiku in English, and it shows something more implied than explicit in the examples above, and certainly something that could not be more universal for those paying attention:


The earth shakes 
just enough
to  remind us.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After putting together the above post and preparing it for posting, I ran across the following poem by Steve in my morning reading from the exemplar collection, Haiku Mind: 108 Poems to Cultivate Awareness and Open Your Heart (another being read for future posting), edited and annotated by Patricia Donegan:


a petal falls
       you
across the table


What an astounding body of work by Steve Sanfield ... 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Photo by Kentama



by itself
my head bows...
plum blossoms!
Issa
trans. by David G. Lanoue



best,
Don

PS  Click to learn how to contribute to Wednesday Haiku