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

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Gravestone Haiku

"That's all, folks!"
on an unnamed gravestone
fleeting summer clouds


Presence, #46, June 2012

Butterfly Haiku

autumn dawn
I leave the butterfly dream
behind


Presence, #46, June 2012

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Pacific Shore Tanka

standing alone
by the Pacific shore...
the monotony
of longing for homeland
reaches the horizon


Ribbons, 8:1, Spring/Summer 2012

Dream Tanka

love seeds
my winter dream...
this memory
of her tousled hair
shares my double bed


Ribbons, 8:1, Spring/Summer 2012

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Calendar Nude Kyoka

alone again
in the sun-baked attic—
calendar nude
giving me the hottest smile
I can only dream about


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

Friday, July 27, 2012

Immigration Tanka

map of Taiwan
on my attic ceiling . . .
from baby steps
my life took wing
across the Pacific


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Rickshaw Tanka

for the first time
in his rickshaw pulling life
he squints in the glow
of a computer screen
...morphing into a number


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

A Tanka about Jane Doe

I wonder
if she heard the buzzing
when she died...
a burial for Jane Doe
on World Homeless Day


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

Dog Tanka

the neighbor
who seldom returns my greetings
chit-chats
with a stranger
while the dogs wag their tails


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Immigration Tanka

the smell
of harvest fills the air...
moonlight
lingers between the dates
on a migrant's headstone


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

A Tanka on Sexual Abuse

he forced me
to touch his privates

the girl shouts…
he looks out the court window
at the church he used to serve


Atlas Poetica, #12, July 2012

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Ghost Tanka

on a spring night
he pointed his finger
to the moon...
I will myself to chase
the ghost of his words


Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Monday, July 16, 2012

Sunday, July 15, 2012

What Remains?: A Haibun

Alone in the attic. On the desk, her farewell note stained with coffee.

“What matters isn't the fact of dying or when you die. It's what you're doing at that precise moment -- I'm ready to be loved.”

winter drizzle...
my smoke rings
drifting

Notes from the Gean, 4:1, June 2012

Friday, July 13, 2012

Tank Tanka

on CNN
a young Chinese man
stands alone
to block a line of tanks
I stand behind him, watching


A Hundred Gourds, 1:3, June 2012

Butterfly Tanka

one by one
black-naped monarchs unfold
their wings…
on this wintry night
why do they enter my dream?

   
A Hundred Gourds, 1:3, June 2012

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Shadows: A Haibun

Pallbearers carry her small casket through the back door and into the garden, through a field of tall grass and into the cemetery.

dust to dust…
an eagle’s shadow
circles us

A Hundred Gourds, 1:3, June 2012

Eagle Haiku

a bald eagle...
row upon row of headstones
on the grassy hill


A Hundred Gourds, 1:3, June 2012

Monday, July 9, 2012

Under the Sun: A Haibun

New Year’s drink
our yellow streams cross
each other’s

“Son, now you’re a man,” Father says coldly. Something strange…something I can’t articulate in his eyes. A gaze I will carry with me always.

the moon floats
from one glass
to another…

Haibun Winner, 2012 Great Big Little Poems Contest
Reprinted  in Contemporary Haibun Online, 8:3, October 2012

Death Haiku

a hearse in the rear-view mirror crimson sky

Multiverses, 1, June 2012

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Following the Moon to the Maple Land

Book Review by Kathy Uyen Nguyen

Here is an excerpt:

Liu's "Preface" is unlike any other prefaces I've read out there; it is a haibun that captures his sense of self-identity and reality as if they are balancing on scales. Consider the following excerpt:

My mind can't find a resting place except writing poetry - the only way I can manipulate the reality of my life in Canada.

It is evident that Liu's hometown is in Taipei, Taiwan, yet in this haibun, there is much more room for readjustment to his new life in Canada. This story is shared by many of us (including relatives and friends) who are immigrants as we know that it is a lifelong process of letting go, yet still remembering one's own motherland wherever that may be. The only thing that is constant and ironically stationary in Liu's life is his poetry writing.

Speaking of Liu's hometown, I absolutely love the diction and the continuity of the images in this following haiku:

    peeling my pear
    in a thin, unbroken spiral ...
    hometown memories

This haiku evokes nostalgia and is simply beautiful. The reader can imagine that both the peeling pear and Liu's hometown memories are all in an "unbroken spiral." I love the fusion between human nature ("memories") and nature ("pear").

Liu also demonstrates versatility and skill in one-line haiku such as the following selections:

    slowly I eat up a spring day quickly dissolving

    ***

    single married single again a rushing river

In "[slowly]," the reader can see that the speaker of the haiku is eating up "a spring day" with the first reading, but at the same time or with the second reading, it is noted as the spring day being quickly dissolved while the speaker is eating something. Either way, I love the ambiguity and gustatory experience of this one-like haiku.

In "[single]," this reminds me of tributaries that all flow and merge together to become one big river. There is irony in the human experience when it comes to relationships (e.g., divorces, breakups, marriages, etc.): we go through these changing phases of relationships as if we are small streams ourselves trying to flow into one big river in the name of love. The middle part of the haiku with "single again" works like a hinge. It could be that the speaker of this haiku is "single again" or is experiencing once "again a rushing river" as in a rush of emotions.....

Autumn Thoughts: A Haibun

for My Mother and Li Po

Alone on the other side of the Pacific shore. The setting sun shoots oranges and reds across the water as two seagulls glide by.

The rhythm of the waves is relentlessly hypnotic… I pack it into a capsule to swallow at night.

nine autumns…
do Mother and I live
under the same moon

Multiverses, 1, June 2012

Christmas Haiku Noir

Christmas Eve
silhouettes in the window
with a bullet hole


Sketchbook,7:2, March/April 2012

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

I Remember: A Haibun

those days when we were like sheep herded into church by missionaries and told to keep our heads down, backs straight, and hands folded.

"Our Father in heaven, …Give us this day our daily bread… deliver us from evil."

Christmas Eve—
I turn my back on Jesus
to face the moon

Multiverses,1, June 2012

Dream Haiku Noir

I see a man
in the black hooded robe...
Christmas dream


Sketchbook,7:2, March/April 2012

Monday, July 2, 2012

Easter Senryu

Easter morning:
sunlight reflected
from the wine glass

Japanese Translation by Hidenori Hiruta

復活祭の朝
日光が反射している
ワイングラスから

Akita International Haiku Network

Dream Haiku

youthful Mom
strokes my graying hair:
autumn dream


Fri Haiku, 2, 2012

Relationship Haiku Noir

shouting match...
a boy drums his fingertips
on the windowpane


Sketchbook,7:2, March/April 2012