Vladislav Hristov’s no man’s land

no man’s land
between two graves
thin strip of grass

Vladislav Hristov (Bulgaria)

Scarlet Dragonfly, May 20, 2022

Commentary

The first line is impactful because “no man’s land” is a term used during trench warfare (as the land between opposing trenches during a war). Such a desolate scene explains why this saying exists because no human survives in that stretch of land. However, in another sense, I think “no man’s land” could also mean a severe disconnect between humans and the Earth (i.e. it could mean two humans in this haiku didn’t feel connected with the land, but now their remains are buried in Mother Earth). Reclaiming land that was once seemingly devoid of life and labeled “no man’s land” shows the regenerative power of Mother Earth. Reincarnation also comes to mind as a possibility in the third line.

An impactful haiku that depicts the space between life & death, and between war & Nature.

— Jacob D. Salzer

The haiku starts with a strong statement of ‘no man’s land’, indicating the miseries of war. It shows how power and conflict end in nothing but annihilation. This also reminds us how irrelevant life and worldly boundaries are after the death of people in war. I also see it as a defeat where one may claim a piece of land after winning a war but that land is also used to bury victims.

‘Between two graves’ may symbolize two countries or boundaries of two countries that are doomed in a war, or destroyed enough to look like graves. I see it as the graves of unknowns who may be foes or feud but now are buried on the same land, side by side, facing the consequences of hate simultaneously.

I like the third line of this haiku which projects exactly the harsh realities and miseries that countries face due to disastrous conflicts. It shows despair, conflict, and cynicism that does not end even after a war. A ‘thin strip of grass’ may look like a sword, tongue, or the fragility of life after conflict which leads to more hatred and fear. It shows how one war leads to another where those in power do not think about martyrs or victims.

It’s a vicious cycle of hostility that goes on from one generation to another, from one country to another, and it ends nowhere but the massive destruction and death of countless precious lives.

Hifsa Ashraf

One of the potent features of this haiku is its pivot in the second line. “between two graves” can lend to both the first and third lines. It can be read as “no man’s land between two graves/thin strip of grass” or “no man’s land/between two graves thin strip of grass.”

There is no mention or implication of a kigo (seasonal reference). Yet, kigoless haiku have been written for hundreds of years. These haiku are called muki.

In terms of toriawase, or how things are combined, we have the solemnity of the graves and the thin strip of grass. The grass, though occupying a small area, becomes enlarged in our minds. Its importance becomes significant and represents sadness and cynicism.

There is no punctuation, but this seems reasonable in order for the pivot line to work. In English-language haiku, often punctuation is omitted in favor of the line break and a pivot line.

The pacing is the standard of English-language haiku, which is a short first line, a longer second line, and a short third line. This format approximates the rhythm of Japanese haiku.

Looking at the sound, the letter “a” is the most prominent. These long syllables bring gravity to the haiku. The “o”s in the poem also elongate the syllables.

Lastly, the language is simple and the composition is concise while conveying a poignant scene. Hallmarks of fine haiku.

This haiku describes something we might have seen many times but have not given its due importance. The poem also displays a relationship between the natural world and humanity, no matter how slight. Even a small connection can feel big in the eyes of the perceiver.

Nicholas Klacsanzky

Painting by Giles Watson. “Wayland’s Smithy.”

Jerome Berglund’s simpler time

remembering
a simpler time
ghost apple

Jerome Berglund (USA)
(previously published in Frogpond 46:1)

The word “ghost” provides a haunting effect in this haiku. It seems the third line is communicating that modern civilization will not likely return to simpler times. I appreciate how this haiku allows me to get transported into an apple orchard before computers and smartphones were invented. This haiku could even speak of times before electricity. As a result, I can experience a lot more silence, quality conversations, and a slower pace of life in those days.

This is an important haiku that speaks of the past, present, and perhaps hints at a haunting or consequential future. 

Jacob D. Salzer

The first line of this haiku shows the ongoing thoughts or memories of a person who is enjoying the process of remembrance.
‘Remembering’ without punctuation gives no clue to the intensity of this cognitive process which gives readers enough room to take it as something easily coming to the mind or that maybe a person is struggling to recall something from the past.

A ‘simpler time’ may reflect a comfortable part of the past that has no expectations, hardships, or sophisticated lifestyles. It may be a childhood where a person is carefree and has more freedom to enjoy each moment of life fully; a time when a person has no responsibilities to fulfill. The word ‘simpler’ shows a person’s struggle to seek solace in remembering a time when life was not challenging.

‘Ghost apple’ hints at the season. It may be deep winter—a time when a person is more introspective or nostalgic. A ghost apple also symbolizes the illusion of memories, which manifests in denial when a person tries to escape from reality by shifting their focus from a difficult circumstance to something that can give sanctuary. This haiku might also be about the poet seeing a ghost apple as a child and might infer that it is better to focus on the here and now.

In terms of sound, the letter ‘m’ provides the mood of mystery of the past and present being simultaneous, which is happening silently within the person.

Hifsa Ashraf

As Hifsa mentioned, the kigo for this haiku is probably winter. A ghost apple could mean several things, but most likely it is referencing the phenomenon when an apple is coated with freezing rain and then later becomes frozen itself. As the apple rots and gets mushy, it eventually slips out of the icy mold and the apple-shaped ice is left on the tree. It’s quite a spectacle.

The image in this haiku (ghost apple) has several interpretations. The ghost apple itself could be remembering a simpler time, but that is more abstract or personified. The other interpretation is that the poet is remembering a simpler time and sees the ghost apple as a representation of remembrance in a moment of realization. Remembrance is beautiful at times, but also “cold” like the dead or a ghost.

For the kireji, or punctuation as an approximation of a cut marker, the line break in the second line is enough. An ellipsis could work after the second line, though.

Looking at the pacing, the haiku matches the standard of English-language haiku, with a short first line, a longer second line, and a short third line. “ghost apple” comes as a surprise when it’s read on the page and even more when it’s read out loud.

In terms of Japanese aesthetics, we could say that this haiku contains aware or emotional or spiritual responses from seeing an object—especially its transitory nature. Just by seeing the ghost apple, the poet has been drawn into the dimension of remembrance, which triggers deep emotions of transience.

Hifsa made a great comment about the letter “m” but I also enjoy the letter “l” in this haiku. It gives a sense of sweetness and softness to the haiku.

Overall, this is a concise and effective haiku with a unique image, prompting profound imagination in the reader.

Nicholas Klacsanzky

Photograph by Andrew Sietsema

Randy Brooks’ row

digging potatoes
her story reaches the end
of the row

Randy Brooks (USA)

Commentary

I appreciate how this haiku transports me to a farm, where digging potatoes is both a source of sustenance and a way to earn a living. I also appreciate how this haiku transports me back in time before we had cellphones and were more connected with the Earth. While this haiku may seem simple at first, I see deep implications. 

This haiku reminds me that words travel fast, but not always accurately. If the original story is heard by someone who tries to retell the story to someone else, the story can change subtly or more drastically from person to person. As a result, this haiku shows us the dangers of mistranslations and misunderstandings when stories are told and retold, especially by word of mouth. By the end of the row, the person may have heard a story that is much different from the original version. If this happens, there can be dissonance and profound consequences.

On the other hand, this haiku could have a positive connotation if her story is passed down accurately from person to person. Sharing stories was (and still is) a way to bond with each other and can help make the day more enjoyable too.

In Indigenous families, they have a remarkable way of preserving ancient stories by word of mouth from generation to generation. Storytelling is a deep and integral part of their culture and has continued over thousands of years. Many of their stories have also been recorded in English through books and transcripts. A good example is a book titled Indian Legends of the Pacific Northwest compiled by Ella E. Clark. I admire how Indigenous myths and legends contain important lessons that can be applied today, even though they are very old. 

I want to thank Randy Brooks for writing and sharing this haiku with us. This is an important philosophical and social haiku with depth and meaning.

 — Jacob D. Salzer 

It’s the ambience that makes this haiku concrete, digging into one’s life and seeing its harvest. This haiku also shows the hardship of a farmer’s life who expects something good in the end. Digging potatoes can relate to garnering a reward after the toil of work—a prize in the form of energy, taste, sustenance, and memories.

‘her story’ is a turning point in this haiku. It may tell us about the life of a farmer, a housewife, a worker, or a mother who has to feed her family. Digging potatoes may be correlated to planting dreams, wishes, or memories, and waiting for the harvest season for fruitful results. In this metaphorical harvesting, support (tools) aid her in gathering what she has worked towards.

This haiku is crafted very well. The words that are used let us wander through the various stories of her life. Her story reaching the end may reflect her ageing, fatigue, departure, failure, or success. The word ‘row’ in this haiku is carefully employed. From it, we can see the multi folds of this story that may indicate a poor family relationship, hardship without reward or encouragement, certain expectations from others of the harvest, or a dispute. The other side may be the row as a path that has taken her to her destiny, which may be both good and bad. I see here the chances we are given when we work hard. It depends on the path we have taken, the decisions or choices we have made, and the resilience or patience we have shown.

With no well-defined kigo, no punctuation, and an interesting line break in the second line, this haiku is worth reading again and again. It gives much for the reader to ponder.

Hifsa Ashraf

As Hifsa mentioned, there is no particular kigo, or seasonal reference, implied in this haiku. However, with the best times to harvest potatoes being in August to September in Illinois (where the poet lives), we could place the poem in those months. With the melancholy mood of this haiku, I feel it could be September.

There is no kireji or cut marker, but there is a grammatical shift starting in the second line. In the interaction between the two parts of the haiku, it seems the potatoes could be a metaphor for the story of the person being referenced. Perhaps, her history is hearty and rich, yet relatable.

The use of the word “row” and “end” intrigues me. I see different levels for each word to be read into. The person in question could be narrating a story until she reaches the end of the row of potatoes. Or, it could be that the woman or girl could have planted the potatoes and they are her story. This could imply her passing. While digging out the potatoes, the poet could be taking out her story, one by one.

In terms of sound, the letter “o” attracts me the most. The elongated syllables make the haiku more plaintive, matching the mood. I feel the letter “r” accentuates the seriousness of the imagery,

Looking at the pacing, the lines follow the standard for English-language haiku of a short first line, a longer second line, and a short third line. This approximates the rhythm of traditional Japanese haiku.

Ultimately, it seems the most potent quality of this haiku is its white space and double meanings in its imagery. With these, the haiku resonates in unexpected ways.

Nicholas Klacsanzky

“Woman Digging Up Potatoes,” Vincent van Gogh