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

Monday, October 31, 2011

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Autumn Tanka

with falling leaves
I dance on the grave
of my poems—
in the beginning
the poet wrote mere words


Sketchbook, 6:4, July/August 2011

Autumn Tanka

three years of my life
have gone out the window
I listen
to pauses between writing poems...
the sound of falling leaves


Sketchbook, 6:4, July/August 2011

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Shadow Tanka

behind my back
my shadow laughs aloud
Catch me if you can
in revenge
I fall to the ground


German Translation

hinter meinem Rücken
lacht laut mein Schatten
Fang mich, wenn du kannst
aus Rache, dass ich
im Boden versinke


Chrysanthemum, #10, October 2011

Autumn Haiku

tea party...
I sip the autumn chill
slipping through Father's fingers


German Translation

Tee-Kränzchen ...
ich schlürfe die Herbstkühle
die durch Vaters Finger schlüpft


Chrysanthemum, #10, October 2011

Friday, October 28, 2011

Relationship Haiku

night blooming cactus --
in her bedroom eyes
that look


German Translation

nachts blühender Kaktus --
in ihren Schlafzimmeraugen
dieser Blick


Chrysanthemum, #10, October 2011

Thursday, October 27, 2011

At the Gun-Mouth of Time: A Haibun

Being here. Sitting at my desk. I see the maple tree in the front yard. It has lost all of its leaves, simply relinquishing the riches of the season without any grief; it lets go and goes deep into its roots for sleep and renewal for the upcoming year.

the sun setting
last photo of my youth
amid morning-glories

Sometimes I wonder if it is possible to reinvent one's self in middle age. Can I control resentment and regrets, master a new language, and express my thoughts and emotions fully in a borrowed tongue? If I can't, I will gradually lose who I was, become uncertain -- insecure about who I am and what I am going to do for the rest of my life.

first snowfall…
my borrowed tongue
searching for words

Does anything in nature despair besides man? Does a wounded animal with one foot caught in a trap despair? Or it is just too busy trying to survive, closed in on itself to a kind of still, intense, and seemingly endless waiting.

a lone star
in the moonless sky --
one howl, then many

Zen masters proclaim that is it possible to live a life moment by moment, taking notice of the change in each instant.

flake after flake
falls atop one another…
day’s end

Chrysanthemum, #10, October 2011

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Moon Haiku

a glint of moonlight
on the broken wine glass
half of me


Haiku Canada Review 5:2, October 2011

Snow Haiku

the chill
of her goodbye letter
sound of falling snow


Haiku Canada Review 5:2, October 2011

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Attic Haiku

attic window –
a few moonlit shadows
come and go


Croatian translation

tavanski prozor -
nekoliko sjena obasjanih mjesečinom
dolazi i odlazi


2nd Prize, 2011 Klostar Ivanic Haiku Contest 

Moon Haiku

moonlit branches . . .
glazed with autumn rain
droplets of me


Croatian translation

grančice na mjesečini…
uglačane jesenjom kišom
kapljice mene


Commendation, 2011 Klostar Ivanic Haiku Contest (in English)

Monday, October 24, 2011

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter…and Another Spring: A Tanka Sequence

her bus to the South
I wave and wave and wave
until nothing is left
except the scent of her kiss
lingering in the spring air

the smoke
from my returned letters
curls up
the corners
of the darkest summer day

autumn twilight
a black bird lands
on my windowsill
lamenting, Nevermore
I reply with tearful eyes

the snow moon
elopes with stars
darkness
penetrates the attic
ablaze in loneliness

spring mist
makes all houses one
the joy
of this man
alone in the attic


Haiku Canada Review 5:2, October 2011

Sunday, October 23, 2011

My Chapbook Just Came Out
























My book, Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner of the Spring 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest), just came out. 
Publisher: Haiku Pix Productions
ISBN: 978-986-86788-3-5
Cover Concept: Tad Wojnicki
Cover Photo: Christine, L. Villa
Cover Design: Marie Jo Kasprzak
Price: U. S. 10; CAN 15.95

You are one of the most lyric haikuists in our worldwide haiku family. You have the gift of tugging at our hearts. I can see why so many of your haiku have won awards.

-- Neal Whitman, renowned American poet

Cemetery Haiku

church graveyard
a cloud of crows hover
over stone angels


Cemetery Haiku

alone by her grave
gazing at the autumn moon
silence between us


Saturday, October 22, 2011

Dream Tanka

a feathery thing
perches on the edge
of my dream . . .
the apple on the tree
hangs hopelessly in sunlight


Gusts, #14

Snow Tanka

everyone is struck
by an unseasonable fall
of snow
I, alone, measure
its weight in footsteps


Gusts, #14

Friday, October 21, 2011

Autumn Haiku

no emails…
the yellow drift of leaves
through my window


Asahi Haikuist Network (Oct. 21, 2011)

Cemetery Haiku

“Carpe Diem”
on his gravestone
winter light



Editor's Comment:

The brevity of this 4 4 3 constructed haiku is a fitting format for the sentiments expressed in the opening line "Carpe Diem"—seize the day. Indeed, life is fleeting and those who terry will soon be left behind to perish—for life is temporary, limited to a short span compared to the environment in which it is lived, both here on earth and in the wider reaches of the ever expanding universe, in the galaxies beyond which we have only started to explore. The expression, "carpe diem", seize the day, was originally expressed by Horace in the Odes 1.11.

The Odes (Latin Carmina) are a collection in four books of Latin lyric poems by Horace. The Horatian ode format and style has been emulated since by other poets. Books 1 to 3 were published in 23 BC. According to the journal Quadrant, they were "unparalleled by any collection of lyric poetry produced before or after in Latin literature. ...The Odes have been considered traditionally by English-speaking scholars as purely literary works. Recent evidence by a Horatian scholar suggests they were intended as performance art, a Latin re-interpretation of Greek lyric song.

I.11, Tu ne quaesieris, is a short rebuke to a woman worrying about the future; it closes with the famous line carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero (pluck the day, trusting tomorrow as little as possible).

Chen-ou Liu has effectively made a literary connection to the ancient world—a connection echoed and re-echoed in various literary forms across the ages. This echo encourages humans to enjoy life before it is too late: "Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May from To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time. It resounds as an invocation on transience and a meditation on death. It brings to mind the film / literary character John Keating portrayed by Robin Williams in the film Dead Poets Society (1989) who says, "Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary." The classical phrase has risen to the stature of an epithet—carpe diem—and it immediately evokes many literary references. For example, think of Steve Martin who also employs the phrase in the 1987 film Roxanne (a modern retelling of the 1897 verse play Cyrano de Bergerac, written by French author Edmond Rostand). "Carpe diem" has become a modern day epithet.

In Chen-ou Liu's haiku, the middle line—"on his gravestone" acts as a pivot; it effectively connects the third line--"winter light" to the first line. The seasonal shortness of winter days emphasizes the need to take charge of life—seize the day—for life is short compared to the ages and ages of history available for us to read.

Although the latin poets did not not directly compose haiku, I am unable to resist the temptation to reconstruct this closing verse in their language as a Found Poem:

carpe diem
gaudeamus igitur
momento mori

*seize the day / let us rejoice / remember that you are mortal

Long ago, I silently, and sometimes verbally, questioned why I was expected / required to read the ancients in their own largely dead languages...and now I know...

Saturday, October 15, 2011

A Time to Search and a Time to Give up: A Haibun

for Mary Macdonell

While walking alone, I see a large flock of geese taking off from the pond in the middle of a ploughed field. These snow-white birds rise in unison as the sun emits its first light.

nothing new

under the sun?
that spring day we met

Out of Place: A Haiku Sequence

autumn sunrise
over the Taj Mahal
teardrops on her cheek

those three words
slip out of my mouth
Tower of Pisa

Venice
something I've missed
in her watery eyes

a hazy moon
over the Rashomon Gate
does she love me?

Tibetan Plateau
faded prayer flags flutter
in the autumn wind

Great Wall
resting in autumn moonlight
the shadow and I

Lake Ontario
cupped in my hands
her moon face


Sketchbook, 6:4, July/August 2011 Link

Snow Monostich

gathered in your hands snowflakes of my thousand words

Seven By Twenty (Oct. 15, 2011)

Friday, October 14, 2011

Here and There: A Haiku Sequence

harvest moon
a ball of fire rolls
over the shanties

starry night
a wooden boat packed
with migrants

human bodies
are found on the beach
foggy sky

people stand
in long lines at a food bank
winter sun


Sketchbook, 6:4, July/August 2011

Autumn Monostich

drinking alone by moonlight autumn wind slips behind time's back

Seven By Twenty (Oct. 14, 2011)

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Like Father, Like Son?: A Haiku Sequence

Father’s words lingercan you put food on the table?
reading
Poems to Eat

at the departure gate
Father doesn’t wave back
summer heat

first homecoming
Father sighs
your hair turns gray

reunion dinner
my niece giggles
at my Mandarin

reciting
my poem to Father
it's raining, he murmurs

Sketchbook, 6:4, July/August 2011

Note: Poems to Eat is written by Takuboku Ishikawa, one of Japan's most loved poets

Autumn Monostich

morning blues shroud autumn colors

Seven By Twenty (Oct. 13, 2011)

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

To Liv(e) : A Haibun

My Dear:

Upon reading your ground-floor comment regarding my decision to emigrate to Canada, “you're a dreamer with your head in the clouds, paying little attention to the reality on the ground,” I laugh… to tears.

It reminds me that Ingmar Bergman once commented on Elliot Gould, “It was the impatience of a soul to find out things about reality and himself, and that is one thing that always makes me touched almost to tears, that impatience of the soul.”

I miss you, miss the conversations we used to have inside and outside the theater, and miss your favorite actress Liv Ullmann and our dream.

autumn twilight
a butterfly darts in and out
of my shadow

It’s true that my immigrant life here is much tougher than I thought. It can easily thrust me into troubling circumstances that threaten to undo my “mastery” over those things that matter most.

Thanks for your advice: “don't let life make your heart hard; sometimes, you need to keep one of your eyes open and the other closed.” You told me that you've long found yourself mesmerized by Pablo Picasso’s painting, “The Head of a Medical Student,” a face in the form of an African mask with one eye open, and the other closed. I can generalize about the provocative poignancy of this painting: most people live their lives with one of their eyes keenly open to the dangers of the world and the uncertainty of the human condition; their other eye is closed so they do not see or feel too many of these things, so they can get on with their lives.

fight after fight
against loneliness --
waning moon

I don’t want to drag you into our decade-old debate again. But, is this the kind of life we’re going to pursue after spending years together reading, seeing, and discussing so many artistic works on life and death?

Your Ullmann once quoted Bergman as saying, “Perhaps there’s no reality; reality exists only as a longing.” For me, my longing is reality.

falling off a dream I become a butterfly

Love,

Chen-ou

Oct. 22, 2003

Frogpond, 34:3, Fall 2011

Autumn Monostich

autumn breezes gather a crimson quilt over me

Seven By Twenty (Oct. 11, 2011)

Monday, October 10, 2011

Autunmn Monostich

autumn gust the sun falls into Don valley

Seven By Twenty (Oct. 10, 2011)

Note; My work is featured on Seven By Twenty this work

Our Story

after Li-Young Lee

late into night
unable to see
in one darkness
of falling snow
I close my eyes
to see another

in a dream
told in a language
in which I'm a guest
I see Li-Young Lee
fold a paper boat
and send it swirling
down the moonlit river
of my memories


Shot Glass Journal, #5, Fall 2011

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Insect/Bug Haiku

one by one
fireflies escape my glass jar...
starry night


Editor's First Choice Haiku, the July / August 2011 "bugs / insects" Haiku Thread of Sketchbook

Editor's Comment:

For the theamed "insect / bug Haiku Thread Sketchbook poets submitted an unprecedented 273 poems; picking a single haiku as choice has been difficult... However, after narrowing the field down to ten I have reached a decision. My number one choice was submitted by Chen-ou Liu,

The narrator in this ku, possibly a child, has been collecting fireflies in a glass jar. What child has not participated in this activity on an early, twilight summer eve? Such an activity permits a close up inspection of these mysterious, luminescent creatures—an up close experience of the microcosm. Later, the narrator releases the fireflies, and one by one they escape their "glass" confinement returning to the larger world. They become indistinguishable in the clear night sky as as their tiny, glowing lights become intermixed with the canvas of the night sky filled with stars. The transformation of views is dramatic—moving from a microcosmic view to a macrocosmic view. It is this shift of view point that captures my attention. The child like act of capturing fireflies as specimens for display in a glass jar is commonplace, but allowing them to escape and mingle as points of light against the large canvas of a sky on a starry night leads one to speculate on the larger questions about life. What is life? Is there life in the vast and mostly unexplored, distant universe? Are the life forms of the "firefly", a "human", and a distant "star" related? What is the origin of life? These are large questions—all of which invade my mind upon reading Chen-ou Liu's interesting haiku?

Some readers may object to the selection of this haiku as a Choice example. Both "firefly" and "starry night" are commonly listed kigos—haijin purists will hastily point out that only one kigo should be used. Yet, the vastness of the questions that arise in my mind from reading Chen-ou Liu's haiku lead me to persist in this choice.

Author’s note:

John’s comments are informative and insightful, and I’m particularly impressed by this well thought-out comment:”The transformation of views is dramatic—moving from a microcosmic view to a macrocosmic view. It is this shift of view point that captures my attention.”

As for his concluding comment, my response to so-called haijin purists’ complaint is simple: there is no abiding kigo tradition adopted and followed by the English language haiku community, and in the Japanese haiku, two kigo are allowed to use (one of them is treated as a dominant one).

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Summer Haiku

midsummer night
silence finally enters
my attic


Notes from the Gean, 3:2, Fall 2011

Lost in Transition and Translation

Over five years, I've learned
All the English words
An immigrant must know
For the sake of survival.
Later, I bulldozed
Those words to the ground
To make a new one: Home,
A word whose sound and shape
My parents don't recognize.
Now, I start to re-learn 家,
The word my parents
wrote on my palm
The day I left Formosa
For the land of maple leaves
Under the same bright moon.


Shot Glass Journal, #5, Fall 2011

Notes:
1 - 家 is the Chinese word for home.
2 - Formosa, which means "beautiful island" in Portuguese, is the former name of Taiwan.
Link

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Autumn Haiku

laid off …
maple leaves crunching
under their feet


Modern Haiku, 42:3, Autumn 2011

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

A Cherita

frost moon, shadow of lamppost

stray dog howling at the sky
I do the same for competition

reluctant at first
rains start to give us
a thunderous ovation


Story Threads: Selected Cherita

Monday, October 3, 2011

A Cherita

one, two, three snowflakes

seeding the sky
of white silence

the sound of loneliness
gnawing at the corner
of my heart grows louder
 


Story Threads: Selected Cherita

Saturday, October 1, 2011

The NeverEnding Story: A Shape Poem

Here is the link to my shape poem, whose text (in the form of a tanka) is as follows:

alone
in the dark
I hang on the cross
within me
finished

Broken/Breaking English: Selected Short Poems