Chen-ou Liu's Translation Project: First English-Chinese Haiku and Tanka Blog

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Jisei Tanka

English Original:

if I put
a gun in my mouth
and splatter
my brain on cherry blossoms…
a timeless jisei?


Japanese Translation by by Hidenori Hiruta

口に銃桜の上の頭散る永遠の自制や起こすまじなり

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

A Tanka about Time's Passing

English Original:

yesterday
will be the same
for tomorrow never changes –
the kite of my days
cut from the string of Life


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

昨日また明日も変わらず同じかな我が世の凧は糸切られけり

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

Spring Tanka

English Original:

Baker’s Bliss
sets out its morning bread
on the racks
I am drunk
on the spring breeze


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

朝パンを棚に並べるパン屋さん我酔いどれて春風を受く

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

A Tanka about Film Viewing

English Original:

my world
is coiled on rolls of film
and projected nightly
on the screen of my mind –
when is the reel world not real?


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

我が世界心のフィルム写し撮り夜ごとに映り実在すなり

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

Saturday, October 30, 2010

A Kyoka about Waiting

English Original:

standing alone
by the main entrance
of the airport
I ponder the verb wait
transitive or intransitive


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

空港の入り口に立ち沈思する動詞の待つは他または自かと

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

Nostalgia Tanka

English Original:

a blue bird
darts into blossoms and out
unsettled
I wander and yearn
my hometown an ocean away


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

青い鳥花へ飛びこみ落ち着かず我さすらいて故郷慕う

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

A Tanka about Lifeview

English Original:

between
that first gulp of air
and last breath –
a transitional flow
of yin and yang


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

初息から最後の呼吸一生は陰と陽とが替わりて流る

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

A Tanka about Writing

English Original:

the threads
of a thousand poems
dangle on
the tip of a crescent moon
over my attic


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

一千の詩の糸下がる三日月の先見えるなり屋根裏の上

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

Loneliness Tanka

English Original:

bare trees
stand along the road
in a row
seeing me off
to another world


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

裸の木列なし道に沿い立って我の他界を見送るごとし

Akita International Haiku Network (Oct. 30, 2010)

Friday, October 29, 2010

Skinhead and Halloween Senryu

a skinhead lies
in the casket on my porch ...
Halloween twilight


Revision, World Kigo Database (Halloween)

Loneliness Tanka

putting the corpse
of loneliness around my neck
I jump
into the darkness
of a spring day


Back Cover Poem of the Fall 2010 issue of Ribbons

Note:The following is the review of my poem written by Ribbons editor Dave Bacharach (Ribbons, p. 1)

"In 1798, William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge co-published a ground breaking collection of poems they called Lyrical Ballads, and thereby ushered in the Romantic movement in English literature. Among the poems in their volume, the longest and most important that Coleridge contributed was "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." In his a-b-c-b narrative masterpiece, Coleridge writes of a sailor who, for no apparent reason, shoots and kills the albatross that has been following his ship. His wanton act results in a curse upon the ship and its crew, plunging it into disaster and suffering. His cremates tie the dead albatross around his neck as punishment and in the vain hope that it might somehow alleviate their agonies. After the entire crew dies, and only the guilty Mariner is left, he survives only to be condemned to wander the earth forever, seeking out others to whom he must tell his tale.

In a vivid flash of five lines, Liu’s poem brings the famous Coleridge work immediately to mind. In the tanka, the concrete is replaced with the abstract, but it is an abstraction given power and life by use of the corpse metaphor. Loneliness, is an abstraction given power and life by use of the corpse metaphor. Loneliness, especially intense loneliness, often does feel like a form of death in life, and Liu’s opening lines prepare the reader for the last two. Spring, typically associated with rebirth, sunlight, and joy, here takes on the opposite qualities with the simple alliterative combination of “darkness” and “spring day.” The persona doesn’t step into this ominous day, but jumps, as if jumping off a ledge into an unknown and dangerous abyss.

The simple structure of this tanka, in which two pairs of disturbing lines are separated by the minimal noun/verb phrase, defies analysis. There is no complex assonance, no ornate symmetry or repetitive tones; the poem seems to draw its power from the barest presentation of image and action. However, once read, it is not easy to forget, so searing it.

Has Liu read the Coleridge poem? Perhaps, perhaps not. Art dips into the universal consciousness of the human mind. It is no surprise, then, if two poets separated by two centuries dip in and come back with remarkably similar images. "

Butterfly Tanka

I think
therefore I am
a butterfly
dreaming of Chuang Tzu
who dreamed he was a butterfly


Fall 2010 issue of Ribbons

Moon Tanka

the crescent moon
hangs low over my attic
loneliness
nibbles away at my hours
an old rat with a cheese


September 2010 issue of Ribbons

A Haiku about Geese

snow geese
cross the gray sky--
her wrist scars


Fall 2010 issue of Acorn

The "Accent"

what did you say
he yells at me
staring into my black eyes
he just cannot understand
the English shards
from my bleeding tongue

Autumn 2010 issue Rust+Moth

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Moon Haiku

English Original:

her face
in my whisky
the moon floats


Croatian translation by Marinko Spanovic

njeno lice
u mom viskiju
plovi mjesec
 
The Kloštar Ivanic' 2010 Haiku Miscellany
English Translation of the Judge's comment: I would like to put down some thoughts about the haiku which I gave the Grand Prix. This haiku is very formative and dimensional; one can build the WHOLE WORLD upon it. One can read it and listen to it from all sides and experience it in countless ways without using up any of the TRUE BEAUTY AND LOVE...

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

A Short Poem about Racism

go back
to where you come from
--
a stream of my piss
Lake Ontario unmoved


A Handful of Stones

A Senryu about Human Advance

scientists hunt
for signs of life on Mars—
Smokey Mountain


Haiku News (Oct. 11, 2010)

Simply Haiku's Featured Haiku Poet

An Evaluation and Introspective Look at the Haiku of Chen-ou Liu
by Robert D. Wilson


Moonlight
no wine, reading
li po

Anyone familiar with Tang dynasty poetry knows of Li Po. China, when it colonized the archipelago now called Japan, introduced to its people religious beliefs, writing, mathematics, medicine, a system of politics, and other things indigenous to the formation of a civilized society. Even today, China's contributions to the formation of Japan as a society are deeply engrained into the people's cultural memory.

Matsuo Basho was conversant and literate in Chinese as was any serious poet of his day. His poetry, both overtly and covertly, sometimes include references, legends, quotes, and religious beliefs held by Chinese poets during the Tang dynasty. He was an avid reader and obviously had access to ancient Chinese scrolls. Basho also relied on the oral transmission of Chinese poetry because public libraries were non-existent in Imperial Japan, as written scrolls were reserved for the elite to read and study. Matsuo Basho most likely copied some of the poems written in these scrolls for future reading, study, and reflection; and like most people in Japan do today, committed much poetry to memory.

Says Chen-ou:

"As an individual, Li Po was free-spirited. He took an unusual path in life and career. Well-traveled at a young age, he didn’t bother to take the Chinese civil service examination which was viewed as the only way to elevate one’s social status and guarantee their prosperity. He dared to challenge authority, and loved a good bottle of wine and making friends. His nonconformist personality characteristics continue to stand as a model for me to emulate.

As a poet, Li Po is one of the most loved Chinese poets and his poems are widely taught in schools, memorized by children, and constantly recited on all sorts of occasions. The first poem I ever memorized was his “Thoughts in Night Quiet,” the best known of all Chinese poems, especially among Chinese living overseas:

Seeing moonlight here at my bed,
and thinking it's frost on the ground,

I look up, gaze at the mountain moon,
then back, dreaming of my old home.

-- translated by David Hinton

When I was six, my father recited this poem to me with watery eyes. At that time, he hadn’t seen his family for two decades since he came to Taiwan in 1949, with the defeated Chinese Nationalist Army. I memorized the poem and didn’t fully reflect upon its meaning in my heart and mind. Little was understood about the suffering endured by my father and his generation due to the Chinese Civil War. It was not until the seventh year since I emigrated to Canada that I’d experienced this pang of nostalgic longing explored in Li’s poem through the moon imagery – a symbol of distance and family reunion – portrayed in simple and evocative language. Since then, every time when I thought of my parents, my family, and my hometown, I recited “Thoughts in Night Quiet,” which is not only Li’s poem but also mine.

More importantly, some of the recurring themes in Li’s poems appeal greatly to me, such as dreams, solitude/loneliness, and the passage of time, and they become the key motifs of my work. His skillful use of language, his great sensibility toward imagery, and his deep insights into the human condition through a Taoist lens capture nuanced human experience, which is the main goal I want to achieve in my writing."

Regardless of the language a haiku is written in, be it English, Rumanian, or another, it's imperative to understand the perspective of the cultural memories one's poetry emanates from. Poets build bridges to carry us across the chasm of morning fog. The chasms below are filled with the ashes and petrified feces of pseudo ideologies the insecure sculpt to build mirrors that tell the witch in Snow White what she wants to hear and bullies the weak and naive to believe.

Chen-ou is an avid learner desirous to learn from whatever source of knowledge he can glean from, regardless of geographical origin, aware that truth is international and interpretative.

seeing Fitzcarraldo...
I go around for hours wearing
the actor's face

Learning today is not limited to books. Fitzcarraldo is a German movie based upon the true life story of an Irishman named Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald portrayed in a 1982 film.

Wanting to be a rubber baron, Fitzgerald, an Irishman known as Carlos Fitzcarraldo in Peru, had to pull a steamship over a steep hill in order to access a rich rubber territory to obtain his dream of becoming a wealthy rubber baron.

One of the joys of reading good literature is the mental ability of a reader to enter another dimension, to become, momentarily, the person he is reading about... a metaphysical journey into what the reader perceives is the mindset of another.

Regardless of where a poet travels and studies, he or she cannot escape one's roots and the influences that paint illusions from their upbringing.

Chen-ou, when introduced to haiku, felt a bond that shared common philosophical and spiritual belief systemics indigenous to China and Japan. Li Po and poets like Basho had beliefs in common. One day, Chen-ou's name appeared nowhere in English language haiku circles; then like a rabbit pulled out of a magician's top hat, the Taiwanese writer, through study and dedication, developed a unique, fresh haiku voice that only now is getting the recognition it deserves. The timing is also right. People in the world want to see, feel, and understand Japanese poetry from perspectives other than those propagated by the West. In the Greek language, for example, there is a greater variation in word definitions. In Vietnamese, definitions are often determined by musical tone; and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that cultures vary in their understandings of words and actions. Haiku is a Japanese genre that is not dependent upon Western interpretation to earn a wider international audience. It is a genre, as Chen-ou wisely understands, that requires practice, study, and a deeper understanding.

The following poem by Chen-ou reminds me of Basho's famous haiku about the frog jumping into the sound of water.

It's been said the poet's job is to write a poem and the reader's job is to interpret it.

This is one reader's well thought out interpretation.

one by one
frogs make holes in the pond...
starry night

Chen-ou is not one to follow formulas or subject himself to the narrowness of only one master's teaching. Here he makes use of European surrealism Chinese/Japanese yugen:

my mind
between crescent moons...
mother's scent

Composing a quality haiku, which necessitates a minimum of words, is a great challenge. The use of yugen (depth and mystery), ma (dreaming room), the unsaid, and other aesthetic tools are aides to help the poet work within the limitations of a short form poem, giving what western painters call 'white space,' a voice that says more with less. It is this white space, the room to ruminate the poet's hints, to evaluate light and illusion that separate the poor from the good in haiku.

my mind
between crescent moons...

As an experiment, write your own third line:

. . .

Poetry is the world's conscience, a collectivity of emotions that refuses to be silent as evident in Chen-ou's poems about Tiananmen Square.

his gun...
fascinated with
snowflakes

Chen-ou told me, "I was glued to the TV, watching the events unfold… first shocked, angry, then anxious over the lives and safety of the protesting students, later turned to frustration and helpless feelings. The following day (June 5), when seeing a young man, then known as Tank Man as well as Unknown Rebel, stop the advance of a column of tanks..."

he stared down tanks –
eyes opened for Beijing
Olympics

"I just cried out loud for minutes. Later, I turned off the TV and sat quietly in the living room. A sense of calmness emerged. This image, which embodied the demonstration of Confucius’ ideal of courage (“Looking back at oneself, if one is upright, one advances even against thousands upon ten thousands of men!”), has since been etched on my mind."

cherry petals
fall upon cherry petals
shadows apart

Offers Chen-ou, "As one who is an English learner as well as a struggling poet, I feel that writing poetry is to experiment with being -- functioning with relative freedom in an unfamiliar world of the alphabet to strike out toward the unknown, to make myself up from moment to moment. Most of the time, I feel I fail in creating a new personality through fresh language and evocative imagery.

For me now, being a poet means being voluntarily mad and struggling alone with voices whispering, 'we all know you’re a failed poet.'"

Good Friday
deep inside his mouth
no more "why?"

"Writing is a Jobian struggle against noises -- and silence."

Autumn 2010 issue of Simply Haiku


Note: The following are featured haiku chosen and reviewed by Robert D. Wilson

moonlight
no wine, reading
li po

seeing Fitzcarraldo...
I go around for hours wearing
the actor's face


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

「フィッツカラルド」を観た後...
何時間も歩き回る
俳優の表情を浮かべながら

one by one
frogs make holes in the pond...
starry night

my mind
between crescent moons...
mother's scent

his gun...
fascinated with
snowflakes

he stared down tanks –
eyes opened for Beijing
Olympics

cherry petals
fall upon cherry petals
shadows apart

Good Friday
deep inside his mouth
no more "why?"


Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

良い金曜日
彼の口の内側深くに
もう「なぜ?」はない


Autumn 2010 issue of Simply Haiku

My Butterfly Dream: A Haiku Sequence

thinking about
Zhuangzi... a butterfly
flutters its wings

autumn twilight
butterfly darts in and out
of my shadow

my dream floats
the shape and size
of a butterfly

waking from
the dream of a butterfly
me in the mirror?


Autumn 2010 issue of Simply Haiku

Waking from Zhuangzi's Butterfly Dream -- Plagiarism or Honkadori

Michel Foucault (1977, 115) has argued that the entire concept of artist or author as an original instigator of meaning is only a privileged moment of individualization in the history of art.

-- Linda Hutcheon, A Theory of Parody

[Basho’s] notion of the new lay not so much in the departure from or rejection of the perceived tradition as in the reworking of established practices and conventions, in creating new counterpoints to the past.

-- Haruo Shirane, Traces of Dreams

About a few months ago, I had long discussions with some haiku poets over the issue regarding "déjà-ku," a term invented by Michael Dylan Welch for “haiku that bear some relationship to other poems."1 As Welch describes in his Simply Haiku article, these relationships can be good when showing a skillful use of allusion and homage, and not good in the cases of plagiarism and “cryptomnesia (remembering someone else's poem without realizing that one is remembering rather than creating it)"2 Throughout our discussions, the recurring words or phrases were “not the first,” “similar/same,” “not original or fresh,” “has been done.” Some poets even lamented that poets who wrote déjà-ku had great difficulty in submitting them for publication. At some point, the discussions revolved around one key issue: “how similar is too similar?” [déjà-ku is not an academically recognized term but a name for a theory developed by Dylan Welch] In terms of language, structure, style, and theme, the following two haiku are the most problematic of all that we discussed for they are almost identical.

Yosa Buson’s haiku:

Japanese original:

tsurigane ni tomarite nemuru kochoo kana

English translation:

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

Masaoka Shiki’s haiku:

Japanese original:

tsurigane ni tomarite hikaru hotaru kana

English translation:

On the temple bell
has settled, and is glittering,
a firefly.3

Read in the context of Western literary criticism,4 Shiki’s poem either reaches the limits of allusion,5 or is simply condemned as derivative. However, read in the context of the Japanese poetic tradition, the cultural significance of kigo, and especially of honkadori,6 a concept that is close to a loosely-defined Western equivalent of allusion, Shiki’s poem re-contextualizes Buson’s so as to create new meanings and perspectives.

The different evaluations of Shiki’s poem, one that was written in a later time and understood as reworking of an old image, result from the different understandings of the relationship of one’s creativity to originality/newness. In Edo culture, the ability to create the new through the old was a more preferred form of newness than the ability to be unique and individual.7 This Japanese view of “newness” still pervades and is in sharp contrast with that of the West.

Veteran haiku poet and editor Cor van den Heuvel gives an incisive explanation about these perspective differences: “If a haiku is a good one, it doesn’t matter if the subject has been used before. The writing of variations on certain subjects in haiku, sometimes using the same or similar phrases (or even changing a few words of a previous haiku), is one of the most interesting challenges the genre offers a poet and can result in refreshingly different ways of ‘seeing anew’ for the reader. This is an aspect of traditional Japanese haiku which is hard for many Westerners, with their ideas of uniqueness and Romantic individualism, to accept. But some of the most original voices in haiku do not hesitate to dare seeming derivative if they see a way of reworking an ‘old’ image.”8

In his haiku, Shiki used the same techniques that Buson did, but employed a related, yet dynamically, different image of a glittering firefly (a summer kigo), which stirs the tranquility of Buson’s deeply sleeping butterfly (a spring kigo). This slightly different emphasis conveyed a different feeling, and would be recognized by the informed reader at once and “appreciated as much if not more than a completely new idea. The virtuoso approach to literature, and to art as well, where the artist attempts to do essentially the same thing as his predecessors but in a slightly different way, is characteristic of Japan.”9

Shiki’s use of honkadori [Wikipedia: an allusion within a poem, to an older poem] brought to the reader’s mind an immediate identification with an earlier poem by Buson, for it conversed with and showed respect to the master and his work. Buson’s poem provided the horizon of poetic-cultural expectations/readings: “between the bell and the butterfly there are many layers of contrast -- size, color, solidity, mobility, lifespan -- which deepen the poem's meaning; there is also suspense -- the bell may start ringing at any minute, startling the butterfly.”10 Against these expectations/readings, Shiki’s poem established its “newness” or implied difference. In doing so, poetry, as viewed by the Japanese, is communally written and shared. The concept of plagiarism is a modern one. “The brevity of the [haiku] is in fact possible because each poem is implicitly part of a massive, communally shared poem.”11

For those who are well versed in Japanese haiku and Chinese Daoist (Wade-Giles: Taoist) literature, especially in the Zhuangzi (Wade-Giles: Chuang Tzu),12 the butterfly imagery in Buson’s haiku is “not original or fresh,” rather it belongs to a massive, communally shared Japanese butterfly haiku based on Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream, a famous story recorded in the Zhuangzi:

“Once [Zhuangzi] dreamt he was a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't know he was [Zhuangzi.] Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakable [Zhuangzi]. But he didn't know if he was [Zhuangzi] who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was [Zhuangzi.] Between [Zhuangzi] and a butterfly there must be some distinction! This is called the Transformation of Things.”13

In the first haiku lexicon, Yama no I (Mountain Spring, published in 1647), there is an explanatory passage under the entry titled Butterfly: “Butterfly. The scene of a butterfly alighting on rape blossoms, napping among flowers with no worries. Its appearance as it flutters its feathery wings, dancing like whirling snowflakes. Also the image is associated with [Zhuangzi’s] dream, suggesting that one hundred years pass as a gleam in a butterfly’s dream.”14 To demonstrate how to use this butterfly imagery, the compiler Kigin gives the following example:

Scattering blossoms:
the dream of a butterfly –
one hundred years in a gleam15

Since then, the penetration of Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream into themes and images has clearly been seen in Japanese haiku. Among these butterfly haiku,16 the following was written by Basho and is often regarded as one of the most overtly allusive ones:

You are the butterfly
And I the dreaming heart
Of [Zhuangzi].17

Basho wrote a note about this occasional poem sent o his friend named Doi:

“You’re the butterfly, and I the dreaming heart of [Zhuangzi]. I don’t know if I’m Basho who dreamed with the heart-mind of [Zhuangzi] that I was a butterfly named Doi, or that winged Mr Doi dreaming me is Basho.“18

While Zhuangzi played with the “transformation of things,” specifically with himself and a butterfly, Basho played with Doi, personalizing the Buddhist community (the sangha).19

The following are two more butterfly haiku by Basho, which subtly allude to Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream:

not grown to a butterfly
this late in autumn
a caterpillar20

At the denotative level, Basho saw a caterpillar on a late autumn day, lamenting that it has not matured into a butterfly. At the connotative level, Basho reflected on his own life, one which had not been through a transformative change. The poem echoes one of the key themes in Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream – the “transformation of things.”

butterflies flit...
that is all, amid the field
of sunlight21

Because of Basho’s use of the flitting butterfly imagery, some Japanese Basho interpreters, such as Nobuo Hori, think that “the poem has something of a daydream in it, …harking back to [Zhuangzi’s] dream.”22

And the most covertly allusive and regarded butterfly haiku is also written by Basho:

is that warbler
her soul? there sleeps
a graceful willow23

Unlike any poet who saw “a willow hanging its branches as if in sleep and might compose a poem alluding to the butterfly in [Zhuangzi’s] dream,”24 Basho replaced the butterfly with a warbler, subtly comparing the willow tree to Zhuangzi, and the warbler to his butterfly. Thus, he skillfully used this age-old allusion in haiku and was not used by it. This is a perfect example of showing his “haikai imagination”25 creatively reworked an old image. Oshima Ryota claims that Basho “deserves to be called the [Zhuangzi] of haikai.26

As Koji Kawamoto emphasizes in his essay dealing with the use and disuse of tradition in Basho’s haiku, “the key to [haiku’s] unabated vigor lies in Basho’s keen awareness of the utility of the past in undertaking an avant-garde enterprise, which he summed up in his famous adage “fueki ryuko,”27 which literally means “the unchanging and the ever-changing.” This haikai poetic ideal was advocated during his trip through the northern region of Japan . He stressed that “haikai must constantly change (ryuko), find the new (atarashimi), shed its own past, even as it seeks qualities that transcend time.”28 However, his notion of the new “lay not so much in the departure from or rejection of the perceived tradition as in the reworking of established practices and conventions, in creating new counterpoints to the past.”29

Through analyzing Shiki’s allusive variant on Buson’s poem, which is implicitly part of a communally shared poem based on Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream, we can see the Japanese view of newness and the constant use of honkadori play a significant role in the historical depth and cultural richness of Japanese haiku, which has been highly influenced by the Chinese poetic tradition, especially by Taoist literature.30 In writing this essay, I am reminded of Haruo Shirane’s critique of North American haiku: “the emphasis on the ‘haiku moment’ in North American haiku has meant that most of the poetry does not have another major characteristic of Japanese haikai and haiku: its allusive character, the ability of the poem to speak to other literary or poetic texts.”31 I would like to add one more reason: that is the obsession with originality. As Hiroaki Sato stresses in his introduction to Basho's Narrow Road, “the extent of the annotations [342 allusions in Narrow Road to the Interior] might make Basho appear derivative, but as I have pointed out elsewhere (and as everyone knows), the ‘cult of originality’ is something new to our literary experience. A rich fabric of reference – in good hands, such as Shakespeare’s, Eliot’s or Basho’s – is an incomparable resource and a source of wonderment.”32

After all has been said, I would like to conclude my essay with a tribute poem to converse with and show my respect to masters and their works.

My Butterfly Dream: A Haiku Sequence Based on Chinese Poetics33

thinking about
Zhuangzi... a butterfly
flutters its wings

autumn twilight
butterfly darts in and out
of my shadow

my dream floats
the shape and size
of a butterfly

waking from
the dream of a butterfly
me in the mirror?

Notes:

1 Michael Dylan Welch, "An Introduction to Déjà-ku," Simply Haiku, Vol. 2, No.4 (July/August, 2004), http://www.simplyhaiku.com/SHv2n4/features/Michael_Welch.html

2 Ibid.
3 For English translations, see Harold G. Henderson, An Introduction to Haiku: An Anthology of Poems and Poets from Basho to Shiki, Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1958, p. 154. For Japanese originals, see ttp://haikutopics.blogspot.com/2006/07/bell-kane.html

4 In writing, one of the most important features of imitation that defies the charge of plagiarism is allusion. Since the 1970s, literary theorists not only viewed allusion as a "tacit reference to another literary work," but also argued that an allusion is "a device for the simultaneous activation of two texts." Here are the four modes of allusion well articulated in a typology developed by Earl Miner, who is a well-known scholar of Japanese court poetry:

“i) metaphoric allusion in which an echo of the previous work imports the tenor of the previous work to the new context;

ii) imitative allusion in which a quotation of the exact language or representation of generic characteristics of the previous work creates an equivalence between the previous context of utterance and the new context;

iii) parodic allusion in which a quotation of the language or representation of generic characteristics of the previous work suggests a discrepancy between the previous context of utterance and the new context; and

iv) structural allusion in which repetition of structural elements (e.g., recognition and reversal) of a previous work gives form to the new work by analogy to the previous work.”

For further information, see Earl Miner. "Allusion," in Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, ed. Alex Preminger, Princeton: Princeton UP, 1974.

5 There are “rules” to delineate the limits of the use of allusion. For further information, see Michael Leddy, “The Limits of Allusion,” The British Journal of Aesthetics, Vol. 32, No. 2, 1992, pp. 110-122.

6 Honkadori is not simply an allusion to a literary work and it may also function as quoting, which means lines are copied word for word. “[It] is true that within the Japanese cultural tradition there is a well-developed custom of quoting and borrowing…
In fact, more than just a custom is involved here: various ways of quoting were themselves regarded as artistic techniques and were admired and appreciated in the same way as original works of art. It is natural to suppose that an 'art of quoting' could be appreciated by connoisseurs who share common knowledge with the artists, since quoting is quoting something that is known by those who quote and those who listen, view or read… If somebody tried to summarize the stylistic character of the 20th century western art, what should he say? One thing he might say is that the 20th century was one in which each artist was expected to have his own style, and possessing this sort of uniqueness and individuality of style was the necessary condition of being considered an artist at all.” For further information, see Akiko Tsukamoto, "Modes of Quoting: Parody and Honkadori," Simply Haiku, Vol. 2, No. 4 (July/August, 2004),
http://www.simplyhaiku.com/SHv2n4/features/Akiko_Tsukamoto.html

7 Haruo Shirane, Traces of Dreams: Landscape, Cultural Memory, and the Poetry of Basho, Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1998, p. 5.

8 Cor van den Heuvel, ed., The Haiku Anthology: Haiku and Senryu in English, New York: W.W. Norton, 1999, p. ix-x. In fact, “Michel Foucault (1977, 115) has argued that the entire concept of artist or author as an original instigator of meaning is only a privileged moment of individualization in the history of art.” See Linda Hutcheon, A Theory of Parody: The Teachings of Twentieth-Century Art Forms, Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1985. p. 4.

9 Donald Keene, Japanese Literature: An Introduction for Western Readers, Grove Press, 1955, p. 15.

10 Makoto Ueda, The Path of Flowering Thorn: The Life and Poetry of Yosa Buson, Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, c1998, p. 159.

11 See Shirane, p. 27.

12 The Zhuangzi is the second foundational text of the Daoist tradition as well as the name of the putative author of this text.” For further information, see Peipei Qiu, Basho and the Dao: the Zhuangzi and the Transformation of Haikai, Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2005, pp. 3-4.

13 Burton Watson, trans., The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press, 1968, p. 49.

14 See Qiu, p. 18.

15 Ibid.

16 Buson wrote two more butterfly haiku. The following comes from the poem text of one of his haiga:

first dream of the year
even though I become a butterfly
I'm still cold

For detailed information, see Cheryl A. Crowley, Haikai Poet Yosa Buson and the Basho Revival, Boston: Brill, c2007, pp. 192-3.

Here is another one:

as if in a dream
the fingers hold on --
a butterfly

For further information, see Ueda, p. 74.

In Viral 7.1, Scott Metz lists the following butterfly haiku (accessed at http://www.thehaikufoundation.org/2009/09/05/viral-7-1/):

butterfly what are you dreaming fanning your wings

-- Chiyojo (18th c.)

The butterfly having disappeared, my spirit came back to me

-- Wafū (19th c.) [trans. R. H. Blyth]

a butterfly went past after seeing me as an apparition

-- Yasumasa Sōda (20th c.) [trans. Gendai Haiku Kyokai]

17 Robert Aitken, A Zen Wave: Basho's Haiku and Zen, New York : Weatherhill, 1978, p. 125.

18 Ibid., p. 127.

19 Ibid.

20 Makoto Ueda, compi. and trans., Bashō and His Interpreters: Selected Hokku with Commentary, Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1991, p. 271.

21 Ibid., p. 133.

22 Ibid.

23 Ibid., p. 88

24 Ibid.

25 “Haikai imagination, which took pleasure in the juxtaposition and collision of these seemingly incongruous worlds and languages, humorously inverted and recast established cultural associations and conventions, particularly the ‘poetic essence’ (honi) of classical poetic topics.” See Shirane, p. 2.

26 See Ueda, p. 88.

27 Koji Kawamoto, “The Use and Disuse of Tradition in Basho’s Haiku and Imagist Poetry,” Poetics Today, Vol. 20, No. 4 (Winter, 1999), p. 709.

28 See Shirane, p. 294.

29 Ibid., p. 5.

30 See Qiu, pp. 1-12.
31 Haruo Shirane, “Beyond the Haiku Moment: Basho, Buson and Modern Haiku Myths”, Modern Haiku, XXXI:1 (winter-spring 2000), http://www.haikupoet.com/definitions/beyond_the_haiku_moment.html

32 Hiroaki Sato, trans., Basho's Narrow Road : Spring & Autumn Passages: Two Works by Basho Matsuo, Berkeley, Calif.: Stone Bridge Press, 1996, p. 35.

33 According to classical Chinese poetics, a poem sequence is a group of poems by one poet or perhaps even by two or more poets intended to be read together in a specific order. The integrity of a poem sequence is dependent on this prescribed order of presentation. A poem sequence by a single author is sustained throughout by a single voice and point of view, and it shows consistency in style and purpose from one poem to the next. The defining characteristic of a poem sequence is that each poem must have its own value and integrity yet contribute to the artistic wholeness of the sequence while maintaining the logical progression of events.

Autumn 2010 issue of Simply Haiku

Monday, October 11, 2010

Easter Haiku

Easter morning
as promised, he pours himself
a glass of wine

Fall 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Night Haiku

a shooting star
across the inky sky --
lightning bug

Fall 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Moon Haiku

a dog
lies unmoving by the road…
scent of the cold moon

Fall 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Cherry Haiku

cherry petals fall
from one branch to another...
moonshine

Fall 2010 issue of Haiku Ramblings

Spring Haiku

English Original:

slowly I eat up a spring day quickly dissolving

German Translation by Dietmar Tauchner

langsam esse ich auf ein Frühlingstag verschwindet schnell

Chrysanthemum, #8

A Tanka about Writing

English Original:

sunset pierces
the broken window
my poem dead
on the coffee-stained desk ...
once worded, now naked


German Translation by Dietmar Tauchner

Sonnenuntergang durchdringt
das zerbrochene Fenster
mein Gedicht tot
auf dem Schreibtisch mit Kaffeeflecken ...
zuvor noch Wörter, jetzt nackt


Chrysanthemum, #8

Friday, October 1, 2010

A Tanka about Reading

eyeballing
that side of me…
I punish myself
by reading poems
through the eyes of others


Gusts, #12

Moon Tanka

the moonlight
slipping through cherry branches
weighs down
my heart with the scent
of memories of you


Gusts, #12

A Tanka about Writing

seeking shelter
from a world that crowds me
I build
a glass room of my own
made of tanka


Gusts, #12

Moon Haiku

harvest moon…
flood survivors crowd
a tent camp


Haiku News (Oct. 1, 2010)