A NOTE ON HAIKU
by Edwin Dowdy, June 2005
The old pond.
A frog jumps in.
Sound of water.
-Basho
This is the most famous haiku, so let us linger with it for a moment or two.
In Japanese haiku the required form is (nearly always) seventeen syllables, usually a line of five, then of seven, then five again; and there is usually a suggestion of the season of the year. What on earth can one pack into a poem of seventeen syllables to make anything noteworthy?
And having come across one, one like this, what is it all about? One of many possible interpretations might be 'That old pond was there a long while before we were born, and will presumably be there long after we have passed away'. (or so one would have imagined in the seventeenth century). The ancient, immutable pond. Suddenly RIGHT NOW a frog jumps in. The vertical sword cut. The apprehension of everything in an instant of awareness.
And sound of water, a resolution. Who will comprehend that, even dimly?
So what does our poet give us in seventeen syllables? Quite a lot, really. The immediacy and clarity and poignancy of experiencing nature, the senses of timelessness, the 'wabi' of the perfect teahouse, whatever has ever deeply turned you on.
There is nothing that does not offer the insight of its truth---
The snipe rise in flight
From the voice that scolds the cow
In the soft twilight. --Shiko
Far above the veil
Of the haze a boat, at times,
Rises with its sail. - Gakogu
Willow-trees are bare -
Dried the water, and the stones
Lie scattered here and there - Buson
Some haiku are humorous and light -
For you fleas too,
The night must be long,
It must be lonely. - Issa
With one another
Let's play;
So come, O sparrow
Who has no mother. - Issa
Translations differ, of course. Someone renders Basho thus
The silence!
The voice of the cicada
Penetrates the rocks.
Somebody else prefers:
So still:
Into rocks it pierces -
the locust-shrill.
Usually the culture of the past is evident in poetical influences, e.g. Saigyo, and philosophical moods such as Zen. Basho again:
In the midst of the plain
Sings the skylark,
Free of all things.
R.H. Blyth introduces his profound four volume work Haiku with the remarks: 'The history of mankind, as a history of the human spirit, may be thought of as consisting of two elements: an escape from this world to another; and a return to it.' The two 'may be thought of as taking place simultaneously or rather, beyond time, and then they form an ontological description of human nature.'
In his travelling diary Basho wrote:' A longing for the winds and the wandering clouds gripped my heart and I yearned to experience the essence of the flowers and birds.'
He was inveterate tramp even when elderly and infirm,
Resigned to death by exposure,
How the wind
Cuts through me!
So he honed his art.
Another poet, Chora, gave a glimpse of him.
In travelling attire,
A stork in late autumn rain;
The old master Basho.
The death poem:
On a journey, ill,
And over fields all withered, dreams
Go wandering still.
So he took his leave of us.
Helpful were
Basho, The narrow road to the deep north and other travel sketches (Penguin)
Makoto, Ueda Matsuo Basho (Kodansha).
H.G. Henderson, An introduction to haiku (Anchor)
K. Yasuda, The Japanese haiku (Tuttle)
D. Stock and D. Britton, A haiku journey (Kodansha)
R.H. Blyth, Haiku (Hokusedeido)
H. Hammitzsch, Zen in the art of the tea ceremony (Penguin)
Note
Edwin gave us a brief on Haiku one night at the end of class, thus inspiring this request for something in writing. This was inspired by a Haiku/picture hanging in the art gallery where we practice
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