Yosano Akiko’s Look

Not speaking of the way,
Not thinking of what comes after,
Not questioning name or fame,
Here, loving love,
You and I look at each other.

– Yosano Akiko (Japan) (1878–1942)

[translation by Kenneth Rexroth]

Before I comment on this tanka, Yasano Akiko should be properly introduced. Yosano Akiko is one of the most famous, and most controversial, post-classical woman poets of Japan and is best remembered for her innovative and controversial use of the tanka verse form. From an early age, she demonstrated an avid interest in literature, which she pursued after her formal schooling ended. As a young woman, Akiko attended meetings of the literary societies in Sakai. Her first published works were traditional poems that imitated classic Japanese literature. The growing influence in Japan of European Romanticism led to the development of “new poetry,” which condoned the expression of personal feelings and expanded the vocabulary of poetic diction. In their search to define a modern Japanese poetic voice, modern poets and dramatists have both revived old forms and created new means of expression.  It was in this literary milieu that Akiko wrote the passionate poetry for which she became best known. Her poetry openly expresses personal experience, especially romantic love, in language that was perceived as highly emotional to readers in early twentieth-century Japan. In 1901, Akiko moved to Tokyo to be with Yosano Hiroshi, a writer and editor whom she married later that year, shortly after the publication of her first book of poems Midaregami (Tangled Hair).

Hiroshi was a central figure in the Japanese Romantic movement and founder of the Shinshi Sha, (“New Poetry Society”) which published the “new poetry” journal Myōjō (“Bright Star”). After Myōjō ceased publication in 1908, Akiko wrote prolifically to help support her family. She gave birth to 13 children, 11 of whom survived to adulthood. Akiko wrote over 20 volumes of poetry and social commentary; essays ranged from feminist tracts to criticism of Japan’s foreign aggression, and her poetry reflects some of these concerns as well; also broke social taboos with poems about experiencing labor pains and the birth of her stillborn baby; published translations into modern Japanese of Murasaki Shikibu’s classic Genji monogatari (The Tale of Genji, 1912 and 1939) and Shinyaku Eiga Monogatari (“Newly Translated Tale of Flowering Fortunes”); also published a monumental compilation of 26,783 poems (including haiku, tanka, and etc.) written by 6,675 poets in modern times. A prominent pacifist and feminist, Yosano Akiko spoke out against the Sino-Japanese war and the growing nationalistic fervor of the times. She later founded a woman’s college, the Bunka Gakuin, in 1921 and made constructive statements on problems of women and education. [Adapted from the Living Haiku Anthology]

And now on to the tanka. To me, this tanka expresses the ultimate form of engrossed love. And as tradition in tanka, the “beloved” is not named, and sometimes not even hinted at. This universality lends itself to be read in multiple ways, and allows readers to see the experience of the poet in one’s own life without restrictions.

“Not speaking of the way,” is convex. She could be referring to the way she and her beloved love each other, or “The Way” in a spiritual sense in accordance with Zen and/or Taoism.

“Not thinking of what comes after,
Not questioning name or fame,”

These two lines cancel out what lovers usually worry about when trying to express themselves. Instead of thinking of long-time commitments or what the future might hold… instead of thinking of what benefits or drawbacks she can get receive from her expressed love, she is simply loving her beloved without a thought. Just the awareness of love is left.

“Here, loving love,”

This part seems to show a cyclical happening: the poet is in the bliss of love and gets further bliss simply by feeling it. The word “here” also brings the focus into the present moment and shows the importance of being in the now.

“You and I look at each other.”

We imagine the look as readers. Our imagination goes into the depth of what love is to us. Akiko doesn’t describe the look, but infers it instead. Japanese poetry in general seeks to let the reader have a large part in the poetic process. A lack of heavy-handedness is respected in Japanese poetry.

Though tanka was originally court poetry written by elite individuals in Japanese society, Yosano Akiko showed to a greater extent that tanka can be written without inhibition at the highest poetic level.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Eufemia Griffo’s Summer

enclosed
in a soap bubble
summer

© Eufemia Griffo (Italy)

A respected haiku aesthetic is the beauty in transience. I believe this haiku wonderfully demonstrates this aesthetic.

Soap bubbles definitely do not last long, if not for a few seconds. This speaks of the attentiveness of the poet and sharpness with which she was in the moment while writing this haiku. Even though the soap bubble is short-lived, it presents summer in all its glory. Being spherical and clear, a soap bubble can mirror the surrounding world in a comprehensive way.

Philosophically, this can speak volumes. It could mean that even if we have lived one moment in complete understanding, our life has been fulfilled. Another perspective could be that even the most momentary of things can have a deep significance in the lives of others. And yet another take on this imagery is that it represents ourselves: our lives are short, though the joy and bliss of life should be fully viewed.

Beyond philosophy, haiku are just what they are. This haiku could be simply about a bubble reflecting the summer day around it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Usually, if we overthink haiku, we are not seeing its truth. The deepest truth of any haiku is that it is, and that isness brings us into a state of pure awareness without thought.

Looking at sound, I enjoy how the letters “o” and “u” are used to create a sensation of roundness, like the bubble. The “s” sound makes it more musical and perhaps could be the sound of the water running in the bathtub.

Soap bubbles correctly add to the atmosphere of summer: playful, comforting, warm, though temporary. The two parts seem to work well together not only as imagery, but also as an atmosphere.

Though our lives are transient, let’s enjoy each moment of it. This is the essential message that seems to stem from this haiku.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

 

 

Ueshima Onitsura’s Icicles

why
are some icicles long
some short?

– Ueshima Onitsura (1660-1738) (Japan)

I want to mention a few things about Onitsura before I look at his haiku. He was a Japanese haiku poet of the Edo period, famous in the Osaka region for his haiku poetry. Belonging to the Danrin school of Japanese poetry, Onitsura is credited (along with other Edo-era poets) of helping to define and exemplify Bashō’s style of poetry.

Born to a family of brewers in Itami (present-day Hyōgo Prefecture), Onitsura showed exceptional talent in poetry at the age of eight. At the age of 25, Onitsura moved to Osaka, where he begun his professional career in haiku and other forms of poetry.

Although he never became as influential and famous as Basho, Onitsura has a strong place in the history of haiku. In R.H. Blyth’s words, a prominent translator of haiku:

“Onitsura composed the first real haiku. They show his genius; they show pure nature; they best express his unintellectualized experience; they are ‘a sort of thought in sense.’ His verses are simple and easy, melodious, and poetical. Contemporary with Basho, he was independent of him, and the chief difference between the two men was in their power of making disciples. … The poetry of Onitsura has something in common with that of Robert Frost.”

With that being said, let’s dive into one of Onitsura’s haiku, which I greatly admire.

At first, it looks extremely simple. It seems almost like a question a child would ask. However, it is a deep question that reflects Onitsura’s Zen practice (in his old age, he stopped writing haiku to practice only Zen).

There is no answer to the question. Icicles simply grow the length they are through random processes. There is no fate, no engineering. They form spontaneously. The length of the icicles is not important in this haiku, only the act itself of forming an icicle, which has nothing to think about it.

Whether long or short, an icicle is an icicle. Part of the wabi-sabi philosophy of Japan is to accept things at they are, and seeing beauty in seeming imperfection. In this sense, no matter how long or short, each icicle is perfect in its own way.

Essentially, Onitsura is asking readers to ponder why things are the way they are. The easiest answer: they are because they are.

Here are some more haiku by Onitsura for your reading pleasure:

skeletons
all prettily made up –
cherry blossom viewing

there is no place
to throw the used bath water
insect cries!

this cool breeze –
the empty sky fills
with the sound of pines

though I have no lover
I too rejoice:
the change of clothes

my soul
dives in and out of the water
with the cormorant

Thank you for reading and taking the time to learn more about haiku.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)