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

Monday, August 24, 2026

Granite Skies Haiku

granite skies
the burden of this grief
unknown

First Summer Rain Tanka

a child's hand 
outside the car window
to touch
the first summer rain ...
bumper to bumper to Exit



Added:

a midnight moon
glints in the skylight
turning once more
I listen to her breathing
as the night stretches on


Added:

packing
and unpacking my suitcases
for three hours —
this life without my love
yet still within my love


Added:

we all move on
then the story carries us —
still I stand still
at the bend of her street
hearing her door close


Added:

home from vacation
it takes three moonless nights
for my heart and mind
to adjust to living
in a room of my echoes

Sunday, August 23, 2026

Another New Day Tanka

the sound
of yellowing birch leaves
zigzagging ...
alone again, yet
another new day

Time Haiku, 65, 2026

Saturday, August 22, 2026

Pulses Tanka

moonlight
dripping from icicles
in pulses
this silence echoes
weeks without you

Time Haiku, 65, 2026

Friday, August 21, 2026

Old Farmer's Stare Haiku

old farmer’s stare 
dawn fades into the flight
of ravens

Time Haiku, 65, 2026

Thursday, August 20, 2026

Hazy Crescent Haiku

hazy crescent ...
the trace of what I was
(is this all)

Time Haiku, 65, 2026

Wednesday, August 19, 2026

Glasswing Butterfly Haiku

after Ecclesiastes 1:9

glasswing butterfly
in morning sunshine
anything new?



FYI: Ecclesiastes 1:9 (New International Version)

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun


The haiku does not explain Ecclesiastes 1:9; it re-enacts its paradox in miniature. Ecclesiastes offers a pronouncement; the haiku offers a question. The former declares that there is nothing new under the sun, while the latter allows the reader to experience the tension between apparent novelty and inevitable recurrence. The philosophical conclusion is therefore left unstated... For more detailed comments, see "Reading More and Writing Better: Anything New? Haiku"

Tuesday, August 18, 2026

Monday, August 17, 2026

Dayandnightmare

Trump Empire, Inc.: C
a senryu-inflected, visual haibun

A red brick wall fills my field of vision; its perimeters are out of sight.

MAGAMAGA
echoingback
MAGAMAGA



Added:

The Sound of Absence 
a senryu-inflected, visual haibun

Bedroom door slammed shut, I'm left to my own devices.

finger scrolling
OnlyFansSexTubePornDude ...
one stray outbarks the rest


Added:

the moan of a dove ...
my wife replies, I fake it
until you make it


Added:

one more blue pill --
in slanted moonlight my wife 
on top of me


Added:

close to urinals
close to civilization
drip, drip, drip ...


Added:

                  my
              blind
              date 
new snow on old snow
               top
               of 
               me

Sunday, August 16, 2026

Saturday, August 15, 2026

Summer Grass Haiku

summer grass
on both sides of the border
rusted helmets



FYI: For a detailed analysis of this "structurally allusive" haiku (in relation to Basho's), see Poetic Musings: Summer Grass Haiku

summer grass
all that remains
of warriors’ dreams

Matsuo Bashō,  written at the Hiraizumi battlefield in 1689

Wednesday, August 12, 2026

Aftermath Kyoka

Politics of Distraction, XXI

aftermath ...
questions amid camera clicks
before Trump
yet the lingering smell
from this catering truck



Added:

my face lit 
by the glare of a screen ...
no words come 
except a murmur:
a dreamer, not yet a poet


Added:

A cup of cold coffee holds a skin of dust.

blinking cursor ...
the silence between me
and a word to come

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Hum of Summer Clouds Haiku

rippling sunshine
a hum of summer clouds 
in the mountain stream



FYI: It might be interesting to do a comparison reading of my haiku below:

the sky dappled
with cotton candy clouds ...
summer fair



Added:

a loon call
held by the mountain lake
summer moonlight


Added:

predawn darkness
the silence between me
and a world to come


Added:

For Sale askew
a porch dreamcatcher
gathers dust


Added:

waiting room smell
patch by patch summer sunlight
slips out of the door


Added:

love affair
the dappled trail widens
into a road

Monday, August 10, 2026

Sunday, August 9, 2026

Friday, August 7, 2026

Seaside Train Trip Tanka

seaside train trip
to my childhood hometown
with eyes closed
and the window ajar
I breathe in, and breathe out ... 

Laurels, 5, 2026

Thursday, August 6, 2026

Pink Roses Drooping Tanka

pink roses
drooping in a vase—
the shadow
of the psychiatrist
darkens my niece's face

hedgerow, 152, 2026