Title: Dissection of the Haiku Tradition (9)
Inner Landscape (1)
As a non-nature person, the flowers I can name are very few. Tulip is one of them. When I started elementary
school (the Japanese school year begins in April), tulips dominated the garden. Every Japanese person is
probably familiar with the song(1):
Recently I learned, from my saijiki, the word ‘tulip’ originated in Turkey. In Turkish, it and means ‘turban.’
In my late teens, I liked to wrap my head with a colorful scarf. The more colorful the scarf, the more liberated I
felt. I wanted to be a mosquito, which can fly, rather than a tulip passively enjoying the warm spring sunshine.
In the forward to the third edition to The Haiku Anthology (3), Cor van den Heuvel wrote:
“Haiku is basically about living with intense awareness, about having an openness to the existence around us –
a kind of openness that involves seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching.”
I will add a sixth sense to the above. Not only watching and observing the things around us, we also can
explore a flower with a close-up lens. We can inhale the air filled with songs by trees. The sky can be a mirror
of our feelings. Church bells can sound differently when we are lonely. I certainly enjoy interweaving haiku with
my inner life.
Many of my business clients are located in Silicon Valley (30 or miles south of San Francisco). I do not like
driving. Highway 101 during the rush hours is killing. But on the way home when I see the water near Candle
Stick Point, I feel relieved. Especially after coming back from an out-of-town trip, the San Francisco Bay
welcomes me home.
When I was living in Japan, I never lived outside of Tokyo. I envied my friends and colleagues there who had
other places they called ‘home’ that time. I never imagined I would be able to live a couple of thousand miles
away from the place I grew up.
As a waterfall never keeps one face, Tokyo, my birthplace, has changed from ‘a place I cannot leave’ to ‘a place
I visit.’ Since I began studying haiku in Japanese, I read more Japanese books and watch more Japanese
videos than before. I do a blog in Japanese. Yet, I feel I have lost something fundamental as a Japanese
person. Do I become a perfect expatriate? Maybe. Subconsciously, I may need a thing to fill a hole in my soil. I
think haiku is helping me to do this. I still want to be a creature with wings rather than a stationary plant. But I
do not want to be a mosquito any more. I would like to avoid being slapped and killed easily. It does not mean I
am clinging to life. Because I am involved with haiku, my senses have sharpened. I hope I can sharpen them
more by exploring life through haiku.
A roaring waterfall:
that eucalyptus tossing
the summer wind.
J. W. Hackett (7)
San Francisco has many eucalyptus trees. They are not native here, but they can have the wind sing for them.
Sometimes the wind becomes harsh. Other times, the sunshine is their best friend.
in the language
only the immigrants understand
cherry blossoms and I
Fay Aoyagi (8)
In my adopted land, I have been living happily as an immigrant and a naturalized citizen. I think I have been at
the right place at the right time. I am lucky living in California where fellow haiku poets live close-by. I can
share the thoughts, doubts and passion with those I trust.
I believe I had already begun to see the world differently from when I was living in Japan as a non-haiku person.
This theme will be continued…
(1) Lyrics by Miyako Kondo
(2) Kadokawa Haiku Dai Saijiki (Kadokawa Comprehensive Saijiki), edited by Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan,
Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan, Tokyo 2006
(3) The Haiku Anthology edited by Cor van den Heuvel, W.W. Norton & Company, New York, London, 1999
(4) Haiku Shiki (Haiku Four Season), April 2007 Issue, edited by Seiji Hayashi, Tokyo Shiki Shuppan, Tokyo,
2007
(5) Gendai Saijiki (Modern Saijiki), edited by Tota Kaneko, Momoko Kuroda, Ban’ya Natsuishi, Seisei
Shuppan, Tokyo, 1997
(6) A Future Waterfall, 100 Haiku from the Japanese, by Ban’ya Natsuishi, translated by Stephen Henry Gill,
Jim Kacian, Ban’ya Natsuishi, Susumu Takiguchi, Red Moon Press, Winchester, VA, 1999
(7) Haiku Poetry Volume One by J.W. Hackett, Japan Publications, Inc., Tokyo, 1970
(8) Unpublished
(9) Ten’I (Providence), April 2007 Issue, edited by Yasuko Tsushima, Ten’I Haiku Kai, Tokyo, 2007
All Japanese translation by Fay Aoyagi unless stated otherwise.
Inner Landscape (1)
As a non-nature person, the flowers I can name are very few. Tulip is one of them. When I started elementary
school (the Japanese school year begins in April), tulips dominated the garden. Every Japanese person is
probably familiar with the song(1):
- saita saita chûrippu no hana ga
naranda narannda
aka shiro kiiro
dono hana mitemo
kireidana
(blooming, blooming, tulips are
lining up, lining up
in red, white, yellow
looking at every flower
how beautiful)
Recently I learned, from my saijiki, the word ‘tulip’ originated in Turkey. In Turkish, it and means ‘turban.’
In my late teens, I liked to wrap my head with a colorful scarf. The more colorful the scarf, the more liberated I
felt. I wanted to be a mosquito, which can fly, rather than a tulip passively enjoying the warm spring sunshine.
- fukuzatsu ni narunoga iyade chûrippu
I do not want this
to become complicated--
tulips
Yoko Sugawa (2)
In the forward to the third edition to The Haiku Anthology (3), Cor van den Heuvel wrote:
“Haiku is basically about living with intense awareness, about having an openness to the existence around us –
a kind of openness that involves seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching.”
I will add a sixth sense to the above. Not only watching and observing the things around us, we also can
explore a flower with a close-up lens. We can inhale the air filled with songs by trees. The sky can be a mirror
of our feelings. Church bells can sound differently when we are lonely. I certainly enjoy interweaving haiku with
my inner life.
- dono suna naran makigai ni sasayakuwa
- which grain of sand
talks in a soft voice
to this spiral shell …
Sayumi Kamakura (4)
Many of my business clients are located in Silicon Valley (30 or miles south of San Francisco). I do not like
driving. Highway 101 during the rush hours is killing. But on the way home when I see the water near Candle
Stick Point, I feel relieved. Especially after coming back from an out-of-town trip, the San Francisco Bay
welcomes me home.
- ukinedori kingin no hoshi machiteori
- floating birds
in their sleep wait for
the golden stars, silver stars
Bansui Miyagawa (5)
When I was living in Japan, I never lived outside of Tokyo. I envied my friends and colleagues there who had
other places they called ‘home’ that time. I never imagined I would be able to live a couple of thousand miles
away from the place I grew up.
- sennen no rusu ni bakufu o kakete oku
- For my absence
for a thousand years I hang
a waterfall
Ban'ya Natsuishi (6)
As a waterfall never keeps one face, Tokyo, my birthplace, has changed from ‘a place I cannot leave’ to ‘a place
I visit.’ Since I began studying haiku in Japanese, I read more Japanese books and watch more Japanese
videos than before. I do a blog in Japanese. Yet, I feel I have lost something fundamental as a Japanese
person. Do I become a perfect expatriate? Maybe. Subconsciously, I may need a thing to fill a hole in my soil. I
think haiku is helping me to do this. I still want to be a creature with wings rather than a stationary plant. But I
do not want to be a mosquito any more. I would like to avoid being slapped and killed easily. It does not mean I
am clinging to life. Because I am involved with haiku, my senses have sharpened. I hope I can sharpen them
more by exploring life through haiku.
A roaring waterfall:
that eucalyptus tossing
the summer wind.
J. W. Hackett (7)
San Francisco has many eucalyptus trees. They are not native here, but they can have the wind sing for them.
Sometimes the wind becomes harsh. Other times, the sunshine is their best friend.
in the language
only the immigrants understand
cherry blossoms and I
Fay Aoyagi (8)
In my adopted land, I have been living happily as an immigrant and a naturalized citizen. I think I have been at
the right place at the right time. I am lucky living in California where fellow haiku poets live close-by. I can
share the thoughts, doubts and passion with those I trust.
I believe I had already begun to see the world differently from when I was living in Japan as a non-haiku person.
- hatsutabi no yama koete tsuku minato kana
- first trip of the year
I arrive at the port
after crossing the mountain
Tsutae Hihara (9)
This theme will be continued…
(1) Lyrics by Miyako Kondo
(2) Kadokawa Haiku Dai Saijiki (Kadokawa Comprehensive Saijiki), edited by Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan,
Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan, Tokyo 2006
(3) The Haiku Anthology edited by Cor van den Heuvel, W.W. Norton & Company, New York, London, 1999
(4) Haiku Shiki (Haiku Four Season), April 2007 Issue, edited by Seiji Hayashi, Tokyo Shiki Shuppan, Tokyo,
2007
(5) Gendai Saijiki (Modern Saijiki), edited by Tota Kaneko, Momoko Kuroda, Ban’ya Natsuishi, Seisei
Shuppan, Tokyo, 1997
(6) A Future Waterfall, 100 Haiku from the Japanese, by Ban’ya Natsuishi, translated by Stephen Henry Gill,
Jim Kacian, Ban’ya Natsuishi, Susumu Takiguchi, Red Moon Press, Winchester, VA, 1999
(7) Haiku Poetry Volume One by J.W. Hackett, Japan Publications, Inc., Tokyo, 1970
(8) Unpublished
(9) Ten’I (Providence), April 2007 Issue, edited by Yasuko Tsushima, Ten’I Haiku Kai, Tokyo, 2007
All Japanese translation by Fay Aoyagi unless stated otherwise.
Essay 9