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

Showing posts with label NeverEnding Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NeverEnding Story. Show all posts

Saturday, October 10, 2026

Deadline Eve Gembun

Rain pitter-pattering on the roof all night.

deadline eve
the cursor blinks blinking
after I write



FYI: This could be read as a prequel to the following gembun:

My fingers click-clacking — hail against the window.

what's left unsaid
between words and lines ...
alone at false dawn



At 6 a.m., a film of cold grease has formed over my untouched coffee.

I add three words
revise them then kill the line ...
paper-white dawn



Added:

first autumn chill
the ladder to my tree house
two rungs missing


FYI: This is a sequel to my haiku below:

tree house
a ladder leading
to the moon 



Added:

further in
and further in ...
moonlit fog


Added:

a begging bowl
outside the temple gate
rows of shoes

Wednesday, October 7, 2026

Jagged Crescent and Sky Gembun

Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXV: "jagged crescent and sky"
written in response to the video clip Dreams of Palestinian Children, in which children, playfully jostling one another, crowd around the camera and call out their dreams.


Dust settles as the night folds the playground into shadow.

each classroom window
its jagged crescent
jagged Gazan sky



FYI: For more poems about Israel's Gaza Genocide, see Special Feature: Selected Poems for October 7th Reflections


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXVI: "one-minute silence and fireballs"

in Tel Aviv
traffic blocked on the highway 
for one-minute silence ...
forty miles away, fireballs
burst open in morning air


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXVI: "waiting for water, or nothing"

this day like others
before the transient light 
on the horizon ...
lines of Gazan children
waiting for water, or nothing


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXVIII: "bombed-out houses 
and mounds of rubble"

a one-armed boy
stares out the tent window
at something ...
yet still bombed-out houses 
and mounds of rubble

Sunday, October 4, 2026

For Sale Sign Tanka

on the driveway
all hopscotch squares
except one
fill with crimson leaves ...
for sale sign askew



Added:

a dollhouse
at the rain-streaked window ...
foreclosure sign


Added:

roof cobwebs
threaded with rosary beads —
foreclosed house in mist


FYI: My tanka below could be read as a sequel to the "for sale" and "foreclosure" poems above:

foreclosure
and for sale signs
like scarecrows ...
wildflowers bloom
in rioting glory

Gusts, 26, Fall/Winter 2017


Added:

somewhere, someone
shadowing me through twilight
faint buzz overhead


Added:

distant sirens ...
from one dream to another
no blinking exit


FYI: it could be read as a prequel to my haiku below:

echo of footsteps
in the psych ward hallway
EXIT blinking



Added:

winding dappled trail
through a green-leafed breeze
I'm off the map's edge

Monday, September 28, 2026

All-Night Laundromat Gembun

Distant blue flashes ripple on wet asphalt—a low echo.

half-asleep, alone
yet not alone enough
all-night laundromat



Added:

On a cul-de-sac, a detached house with gardens in front and back.

pension, high-tech stocks ...
the first day of retirement
under a gray sky


FYI: This could be read as a prequel to my tanka below:

first day
after retirement
the brush
is dipped deeper
in Chinese ink

Tanka Honorable Mention, 2016 San Francisco International Competition for Haiku, Senryu, Tanka


Added:

my wife's tears ...
I peel the onion 
one layer at a time


Added:

The kitchen refrigerator hums a low drone.

slanted moonlight
on my wife's post-it note:
I need more space


Added:

eviction notice
a stack of poetry books
overdue


Added:

autumn garden
one sunflower leaning
against the fence

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

Paper-White Dawn Gembun

At 6 a.m., a film of cold grease has formed over my untouched coffee.

I add three words
revise them then kill the line ...
paper-white dawn



FYI: This is could be read as a prequel to my take below:

to Richard Bach who claims, "A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit." 

coffee ring on ring ...
I type five lines, five lines
then delete all
start again as robins sing
sing up the morning sun

Tuesday, September 22, 2026

Kraa-Kraa-Kraa Senryu

Realm of Contagious Stupidity, IV
For Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906–1945)
neo-orthodox theologian and anti-Nazi dissident
who wrote in Letters and Papers from Prison: “Against stupidity we are defenseless.”

ravens' kraa-kraa-kraa
as one stray outbarks the rest:
Trump TV on



FYI: Bonhoeffer's remark isn't simply saying that people are unintelligent; he distinguishes the phenomenon from an intellectual defect and describes a condition in which people surrender independent judgment and become impervious to contrary facts. 

And 

The Guardian, September 21, 2026: US TV networks suspend White House pool coverage over Trump media ban

White House promoted its own ‘Trump TV’ feed online after ABC, CBS, Fox News and NBC decline to participate

And it could be read as a prequel to my haibun below:

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

Dayandnightmare

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

MAGAMAGA
echoingback
MAGAMAGA



Added:

half-awake
and alone again ...
no sound
in this mindstorm, yet
my thoughts darken


Added:

twilit underpass :
between spray-painted hearts
blood dripping


Added:

lakefront trail
my shadow strolls through 
clouds and trees

Friday, September 18, 2026

Smoky Clouds Haiku

Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCVIII: "smoky clouds"
inspired by the Israeli award-winning documentary, NAZA (a Hebrew acronym for the "military term, collateral damage" ), which purports to reveal "the SYSTEMS behind Israel's calculated mass killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza"


where tents were
a tornado-twist
of smoky clouds



FYI: Haaretz, September 17, 2026: Netanyahu Vows to Revoke Israeli Citizenship Over Alleged IDF 'Defamation' in Response to 'NAZA' Film

Netanyahu said that he would also work to increase twentyfold the amount of damages people can sue for defamation against IDF soldiers: 'We will hit them both in the pocket and in citizenship, because they have no place among us'


This collision between state narrative and systemic exposure brings me back to the words of US Senator Hiram Johnson in 1918: “The first casualty, when war comes, is truth.”

For more detailed responses, see "Special Feature" post, "Selected Poems for Reflections on Israeli 'Gaza Genocide Documentary, NAZA'"

And 

FYI: +972 Magazine, September 10, 2026: NAZA: Exposing Israel’s killing machine in Gaza written by Directors Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor


Over the past three years, we conducted night-time interviews on the rooftops of Tel Aviv with 24 Israeli soldiers who played an active role in Israel’s onslaught on Gaza. Most of them were intelligence officers, working behind screens and participating remotely in the mass killing of Palestinians. 

Their testimonies form the basis of “NAZA,” a new documentary we directed ...

This is a film about a system. It focuses on orders, policies, and patterns of operation, not deviations from them. The conclusion that we draw from the testimonies is clear: The mass killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza was not a “tragic byproduct” of a war against Hamas, as it is commonly portrayed in Israel, but a premeditated, calculated, and intentional act. This is why a UN commission, the world’s leading human rights groups, and Palestinian, Israeli, and international scholars have described it as a genocide.


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCIX: "attack drone"

in smoky twilight
a mule-drawn flatboard wagon 
with wounded Gazans ...
an attack drone flying past
silences everything below


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCX: "Yom Kippur"

after the shofar's long blast
the Ark's curtain pulls closed ...
forty miles away
smoke column after column
climbing without end in Gaza


FYI: The final, absolute closure of Yom Kippur is signaled by a single, long blast of the shofar (the Tekiah Gedolah). This blast formally brings the fast to an end, representing the final "click" of the lock. Only after this blast is the physical curtain of the Ark pulled closed, and the community transitions into the evening service and Havdalah


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXI: "wordbombs"

row upon row
of nearly empty seats
beneath harsh lights
the war criminal's wordbombs
echo back from walls to strike him


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXII: "smoke-smeared crescent"

smoke-smeared crescent
shoo, shoo, shoo 
piercing scream after scream


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXIII: "Christ's thorns dripping blood"

glass shards 
in half-broken window frames —
by a Gazan home
fractured autumn moonlight
on Christ's thorns dripping blood


FYI: "Euphorbia milii, the Christ's thorn , also known as the crown of thorns, is a pretty succulent plant that can bloom almost year-round, even indoors. According to a religious legend, the crown of thorns worn by Jesus Christ at the crucifixion was made from the stems of this plant, therefore its common name...It thrives in bright light, requires minimal watering, and is highly drought-tolerant, making it easy to care for."


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCXIV: "rows of small white coffins"

on the blood-dried square
rows of small white coffins
in pixels—
this weight of something
I cannot name inside me


FYI: This is a sequel to Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CXCIX: 'white coffin"

the white coffin
a gray-haired man balances
on one hand ...
a child born after the war started
and buried before it ends

Thursday, September 17, 2026

Crimson Sunset Glow Haiku

hospice garden
crimson sunset glow
across her face



FYI: This could be read as a prequel to my haiku below:

hospice garden
the wishing fountain fills
with fallen leaves



Added:

echo of footsteps
in the psych ward hallway
EXIT blinking


Added:

hushed silence
before and after
a midnight scream


Added:

war cemetery
in slanted moonlight
new row of graves


FYI: This could be read as a prequel to my haiku below:

war cemetery 
birthday on this tombstone
uncarved



Added:

the other shore
of surging Pacific waves ...
years in exile

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

Sunset, Moonrise Haiku

sunset, moonrise—
held
in a heartbeat



FYI: In Zen-inspired haiku, the Void (Śūnyatā) can be approached not as emptiness in the sense of nothingness, but as the absence of fixed boundaries between things...

...At first, sunset and moonrise appear to be separate events unfolding along a timeline. Yet the phrase in a heartbeat collapses that distance. Within a single pulse of awareness, the transition from one to the other can be experienced not as two events but as one unified "moment of suchness" ...

For more detailed comments and void (sūnyatā)-inspired haiku, see "To the Lighthouse" post, "Haiku and the Void (Śūnyatā)"


Added:

moon in water—
the ripples
where it was


...L1 presents an apparently simple image: moon in water. Yet what is actually present is not the moon itself, but its reflection—a phenomenon dependent upon the moon, the water, the light, the distance between them, and the conditions of perception.

When the ripples appear in L2, the reflection disappears in L3:

the ripples
where it was

Yet nothing substantial has been destroyed. The moon remains in the sky; the water remains; the ripples arise and pass. What disappears is an appearance that never possessed an independent existence of its own. Its presence was always contingent upon particular conditions.

In this sense, the haiku evokes the paradox expressed in the Heart Sutra: “Form is emptiness; emptiness is form.” The moon's reflection has form—it can be seen, recognized, and momentarily experienced—yet it is empty of svabhāva, or inherent self-nature. It exists only through a temporary convergence of conditions....

For more detailed comments and void (sūnyatā)-inspired haiku, see "To the Lighthouse" post, "Haiku and the Void (Śūnyatā)"

Friday, September 11, 2026

September 11 Haiku

false dawn
in a bead of grass dew —
September 11

 

FYI: For more poems about 9/11, see "Special Feature: Selected Poems for Reflections on Remembrance of 9/11"

Remembrance is less a fixed record than a stencil constantly revised; each time we retrace the steps of the past, our present reflections reshape the impression left behind.

-- Chen-ou Liu


Added:

another year
another “thoughts and prayers” —
9/11, grayer


Added:

And after ...

Facing south, a sea of white empty chairs, 2,753 in all, flooded the lawn of Bryant Park, Midtown Manhattan. One for each person. Not a breath of air. This burden of hushed silence...

blinds drawn
against the light of dawn
9/11, yet not


Added:

Retracing and Reflecting
for those who have journeyed heavily across the landscape of the heart

the light of dawn
on September Twelfth
the time it takes 
for leaves to zigzag
to the dust-choked ground

off the tower
one after many sped downward —
Muslim lives
and our world ripped by the day
before and forever

the footprint
of each tower that once stood
now surrounded
by four walls of water and grief
an Afghan woman's look


FYI: The dedication alludes to Melvina Young's remark:

Sadness takes its own time. It can't be hurried along. It can't be rushed. It "moves heavily across the landscape of the heart" until time and love can carry it further into the distance. 


Added:

Ground Zero silence --
yet this golfball-brained man
closes his eyes, snoring


FYI: The New Republic, September 11, 2026: Trump Falls Asleep Onstage at September 11 Ceremony

Thursday, September 10, 2026

Moonlit Kiss Haiku

our moonlit kiss ...
that first time years ago
and the last



Added:

sultry night
a couple knee-deep
in stars


Added:

jasmine breeze
tonight smells of her
gone for years


Added:

moving day
the backyard swing 
slows to a stop


Added:

summer's end
the blue morpho
under a pin


Added:

sky tinged smoky gray
alone, I drive slowly past
what's left


FYI: This could be read as a sequel to the following:

cliff edge —
a burning sky
behind us

Honourable Mention, IHS International Haiku Competition 2022

Marion Clarke 

Wednesday, September 9, 2026

Screams Gendai Haiku

screams red bleeding through midnight fog



FYI: This is written in response to the following:

knife cold swimming into blue bones

Modern Haiku, 44:1, 2013

Susan Constable

My detailed analysis can be accessed here.

Monday, September 7, 2026

Try Again and Fail Better

written in response to Thomas Mann's remark on writing:

A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.


My fingers strike the keyboard with rhythmic force; my eyes sting, rimmed with red, but something keeps carrying me forward like a surging current beneath the skin.

another
false dawn while robins call
I add three words
backspace them, write five more
then delete the whole line



FYI: The title alludes to the famous quote about trying and failing:

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. 

-- Samuel Beckett, "Worstward Ho,"  a radical, minimalist prose text that strips language down to its barest essentials to explore decrepitude, memory, the limits of expression, and the stubborn human compulsion to keep going despite inevitable defeat.
 

Friday, September 4, 2026

Sweat-and-Tears Life Tanka

another
mid-sentence silence
this muggy noon
our thoughts of returning
to sweat-and-tears yet sure life



Added:

cubicle glass
the stare of my eyes
the stare of my eyes


FYI: This could be read as a sequel to my haiku below:

a fly battering
at my cubicle window
this 9-to-5 job

Haiku in Action, Weekly Prompt:"Primordial Fears," July 2nd-6th  2025


Added:

in giant letters
think outside the box
on the wall
of this newbie's cubicle 
on my wall, actions speak louder


Added:

After three years of walking my boss's bulldog, I imagine all I can imagine and then keep on going.

corner glass cubicle
new self growing larger
with afternoon light

Tuesday, September 1, 2026

Transient Glow Tanka

response to Thomas Mann: A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people. 


a transient glow
before another sunrise
the cursor blinking
while I'm alone with a mind—
all its windows closed



FYI: Ls 1&2 refer to a "false dawn," a transient light that precedes the rising of the sun by about an hour.


Added: 

My fingers click-clacking — hail against the window.

what's left unsaid
between words and lines ...
alone at false dawn


Added: response to Richard Bach: A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t QUIT. 😎 

robins chirp
to a faint glow in the sky —
carving out
showy verbs and fatty nouns
I hold the poem's bare bones

Sunday, August 30, 2026

Red Balloon Haiku

Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCVII: "Gazan girl's red balloon"

to Banksy

fireballs bursting into the dark a Gazan girl's red balloon



FYI: The phrase, "to Banksy," serves as a joshi (prefatory note), alluding to Banksy's iconic Girl with Balloon, an image associated with childhood, innocence, hope, and loss. For a detailed analysis of this haiku and the use of "enjambed double-take," see To the Lighthouse: The Art of the One-Liner, Mastering the "Enjambed Double-Take"

Saturday, August 29, 2026

Stonehenge Tanka

a full moon
between the sarsen stones 
of Stonehenge
one silhouette ghosting
across the gravel path



Added:

a thrum of rain
on the old van skylight 
in a parking lot
I murmur, the life I dreamed
yet the life I'm living


Added:

flash after flash
of midnight lightning
my dream and I
rippling
in the vodka glass


Added:

words are only air
dissolving as they are said ...
yet my chest tightens
as if I’ve swallowed a rock
lodged beneath my breath


Added:

belief is a bridge
built across surging waters...
yet my shaking hands
cannot find the wooden rail
to the altar in dim light


Added:

emigration eve
the last notes
of Home Sweet Home
fading once more
into this moonless stillness

Friday, August 28, 2026

Reflection Haiku

Chen-ou or Eric ...
my reflection in the eyes
of a white colleague



FYI: This haiku is written in response to the following:

spring mud
the hyphen
before American


Fay Aoyagi

And my haiku blow could be read as a sequel:

Pacific waves
Chen-ou Eric two names meet
and part here not here

Monday, August 24, 2026

First Summer Rain Tanka

(
"Israel's oldest daily, Haaretz," which was was sanctioned by the Israeli government on Nov. 24, 2024
Daniel Blatman, Opinion, August 24, 2026: From Armenia to Gaza: The Language of Denial That Makes Atrocities Possible

From Nazi 'language rules' to the American military's 'collateral damage' and Israel's 'voluntary migration' policy for Gaza, euphemisms do more than conceal crimes. They allow ordinary people to live with them


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCV: "headlines"

headline after headline
of situation, event
and incident ...
body parts on the blood-stained floor
of a half-flattened classroom


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCVI: "neu-tra-li-za-tion"

neu-tra-li-za-tion
a new recruit mouths
with a middle finger —
a gray-haired Gazan's back
pockmarked with bullets


FYI: Below is a relevant excerpt:

In 1947, two years after the collapse of the regime that had threatened his life, the German Jewish philologist Victor Klemperer published a short book titled "The Language of the Third Reich" ("Lingua Tertii Imperii"). Klemperer, who escaped extermination because he was married to a non-Jewish woman, did not write about extermination camps or SS death squads. He wrote about words.

Nazism, he argued, penetrated society not only through speeches and posters in the streets, but primarily through expressions that people unwittingly internalized, like tiny doses of poison entering the bloodstream. Individual words, expressions and syntactic patterns were imposed on the masses through millions of repetitions, then adopted mechanically and unconsciously. The poison, he wrote, does not act immediately. It accumulates....

The Israeli media now has a complete, efficient and polished lexicon designed to implant euphemistic descriptions of the state's crimes in the minds of Israelis. Mass killing in Gaza falls under the heading of "operational activity." The destruction of entire neighborhoods becomes "mowing the lawn" or "flattening," images borrowed from gardening and construction. A targeted airstrike that kills dozens of innocent people is described as a "thwarting" or "neutralization," terms from the world of intelligence that imply the prevention of some greater evil. An area that continues to be bombed, such as Al-Mawasi in southern Gaza, is called a "humanitarian zone." And when it becomes clear that uninvolved civilians, including children, have been killed, passive formulations take over: "were killed during an operation," "lost their lives," "fatalities were reported." ...

This is precisely what the sociologist Pierre Bourdieu meant by "symbolic violence." It is not a lie that someone decided to sell or an instruction handed down from above, but a set of categories of thought internalized so deeply that both the person doing the classifying and the person being classified accept them as natural. A news editor who writes "hikers" or "terrorists" does not feel that they are choosing a word. They feel that they are describing reality. That is the power of symbolic violence. It requires no administrative enforcement because it is already embedded in our vocabulary.


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CCCVIII: "torn pieces of Star of David"

asleep
on torn pieces of Star of David
a stray 


FYI: The New Yorker, July 28, 2025: Israel’s Zones of Denial
Amid national euphoria over the bombing of Iran—and the largely ignored devastation in Gaza—a question lurks: What is the country becoming?


Added: Realm of Contagious Stupidity, III

he hides “files”
sleeps through meetings, yells be quiet
trades stocks and golfs:
this ball-size-brained con man smirks
behind the Resolute Desk
)


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

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"