Saigyō Hōshi’s Wind

how can we quell
the burning thoughts
that inflame the body?
only by encountering
the cooling wind

– Saigyō Hōshi (Japan)

Tr. Stephen Addiss

Before I dive into the tanka itself, I want to supply some information about this renowned Japanese writer.

Saigyō Hōshi (西行 法師, 1118 – 1190) was a famous Japanese poet of the late Heian and early Kamakura period. Born Satō Norikiyo (佐藤 義清) in Kyoto to a noble family, he lived during the traumatic transition of power between the old court nobles and the new samurai warriors. After the start of the Age of Mappō (1052), Buddhism was considered to be in decline and no longer as effective a means of salvation. These cultural shifts during his lifetime led to a sense of melancholy in his poetry. As a youth, he worked as a guard to retired Emperor Toba, but in 1140 at the age of 22, for reasons now unknown, he quit worldly life to become a monk, taking the religious name En’i (円位). He later took the pen name, “Saigyō” meaning Western Journey, a reference to Amida Buddha and the Western paradise. He lived alone for long periods in his life in Saga, Mt. Koya, Mt. Yoshino, Ise, and many other places, but he is more known for the many long, poetic journeys he took to Northern Honshū that would later inspire Matsuo Bashō in his Narrow Road to the Interior. Some main collections of Saigyō’s work are in the Sankashū, Shin Kokin Wakashū, and Shika Wakashū. He died in Hirokawa Temple in Kawachi Province (present-day Osaka Prefecture) at the age of 72.

In Saigyō’s time, the Man’yōshū was no longer a significant influence on waka poetry, compared to the Kokin Wakashū. Where the Kokin Wakashū was concerned with subjective experience, word play, flow, and elegant diction (neither colloquial nor pseudo-Chinese), the Shin Kokin Wakashū (formed with poetry written by Saigyō and others writing in the same style) was less subjective, had fewer verbs and more nouns, was not as interested in word play, allowed for repetition, had breaks in the flow, was slightly more colloquial, and more somber and melancholic. Due to the turbulent times, Saigyō focuses not just on mono no aware (sorrow from change) but also on sabi (loneliness) and kanashi (sadness).

To me, Saigyō is a great self-realized poet who showed his depth of spirituality through symbolism. This tanka is no exception. The idea that thoughts can inflame the body is quite a Zen idea, I would say. The Zen state is being aware without thoughts. The burning might be real or metaphorical. If we indulge in thoughts, we set our reality ablaze instead of seeing it in its natural serenity. Speaking on a physical level, thoughts are reactions to stimuli, and these reactions can even heat up our liver and cause our body to heat up.

However, the last two lines can also be taken literally or figuratively. Saigyō was a wanderer and hermit who survived harsh conditions. He may have been giving credit to nature to exposing him to his true self by settling his thoughts through cool wind. But this also could be a reference to the wind that Bashō said called him to poetry. This wind, felt on the palms and above the head when one is a self-realized person, has been described in many spiritual practices and traditions, including Zen. It is interesting he says “cooling wind” instead of “freezing wind or “cold wind,” as “cooling wind” points more to a soothing experience, and possibly to the experience of wind being emitted from the hands and above the head from enlightenment. To some readers, feeling a cool breeze coming out of one’s hands and head may seem far-fetched, but this experience has been recorded by Christian, Islamic, Hindu, Buddhist, and many other traditions in the past and currently.

Personally, I believe Saigyō is talking directly about his experience as a self-realized person, and tells readers that they need to feel their eternal spirit to fully dispel their thoughts in order to know reality. Unless and until we experience this, reality will always be clouded by what we think of it.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Christina Sng’s Walk

walking home
from the hospital
a lone daffodil

Bottle Rockets #35, August 2016

© Christina Sng (Singapore)

I appreciate how this haiku allows for different interpretations for
the reader. Is the feeling of solitude one of joy and resolution
because the person is no longer confined within the walls of a
hospital? Or is it one of loneliness because a person is walking home
alone with no one to greet them at the door? There is room and space
left for interpretation, and emotions are generated from pure
observation.

I also enjoy the last line “a lone daffodil.” It brings rich
possibilities of where this daffodil is: perhaps growing from a crack
in the sidewalk or growing within a garden patch surrounded by
different types of flowers. I get a feeling of strength that this
daffodil is thriving, alone, no matter what environment is conjured up
within the readers’ imagination. An excellent haiku.

– Jacob Salzer (USA)

Tzetzka Ilieva’s Starry Night

starry night…
the school custodian carries the flag
on his shoulders

© Tzetzka Ilieva (Bulgaria)

Acorn #28, Spring 2012

The feeling behind this haiku is multi-faceted: earthy, humbling, epic, and melancholic. There is also a possible allusion to the painting “The Starry Night”  by Vincent van Gogh in the first line that adds another dimension to it. Maybe that dimension is a hint at the toils the school custodian has gone through, as Gogh painted “The Starry Night” while in personal torment.

The last line carries a lot of weight, no pun intended. “Shoulders” references at least two things at once: his actual shoulders, and his metaphorical shoulders. It is already a grand image to have the national flag bolstered on one’s shoulders, but to think of the symbolic implications is even grander. School custodians are typically thought of as low-level people in a society, but with him carrying the flag, an instantly poetic and contemplative scene arises in the reader’s mind. It could happen that all of us, even school custodians, carry one’s country forward. It may be that each citizen of a country is valuable, despite our feelings of being minuscule compared to the reaching influence of politicians, figureheads, and celebrities.

The first line, besides making a possible allusion to van Gogh’s painting, is making a physical reference to the stars on the flag. I presume this flag is the American flag, though other flags have stars on them. The stars on the flag are also complimented by the night sky filled with stars. This sense of fullness, stars top and bottom, displays a classical haiku aesthetic of completeness and oneness. The ellipsis (…) reiterates this sense.

The use of “the” in this haiku shows the gravity and respect this subject deserves. If it was “a school custodian” or “a flag” it would not have as much weight to it. Usually in haiku, we try to be selective about the articles we use to show a mood and which place readers should place their attention primarily. But in this haiku, both the school custodian and the flag are given equal respect, which goes along well with the context of the haiku.

On a sonic level, the “s” sound works well in “starry,” “school,” “carries,” “his,” and “shoulders.” For me, this sound makes the haiku even more reverential in mood.

About the action itself: we don’t know exactly why the school custodian is carrying the flag, and possibly outside. Many reasons could arise: he had to take it down to put it in a box during summer season, he had to bring a flag to an event in the school, he had to replace a flag in a classroom, the school is closing down and he is moving the flag outside into a packaging location, and many more possibilities. But what I do know is that seeing this haiku in my mind’s eye, with the school custodian walking down a hall, the flag on his shoulders, I can’t help but feel something indescribable.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)