Haiku & Tanka Prepared By: Timothy Paular

M.T. 31401418

Matsuo BashoMatsuo Basho [1644-1694] was an ancient Japanese master of brief,

startlingly clear and concise haiku. He influenced―and continues to

influence―many Western poets, including early English modernists like Ezra Pound

and T. S. Eliot. Indeed, one of the hallmarks of Modernist poetry has been a turn toward the clarity and conciseness of Oriental poetry forms such as haiku and

tanka. 

Backgraund Most famous poet of the Edo period in Japan Bashō's poetry is internationally renowned; and, in Japan,

many of his poems are reproduced on monuments and traditional sites

Made a living as a teacher Renounced the social, urban life of the literary circles and was

inclined to wander throughout the country, heading west, east, and far into the northern wilderness to gain inspiration for his writing

Became a servant to Tōdō Yoshitada ( 藤 堂 良 忠 ?): together they shared a love for haikai no renga, a form of collaborative poetry composition. A sequence was opened with a verse in 5-7-5 format; this verse was named a hokku, and would centuries later be renamed haiku when presented as a stand-alone work.

The butterflyperfuming its wingsfans the orchid—Matsuo Basho, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Basho's poem above is a deceptively simple masterpiece, as it invokes the symbiotic nature of life. The butterfly benefits from the nectar of flowers; in the process of imbibing it helps pollinate them. Basho's poem is an example of art mirroring nature; it's hard to say which is more lovely: the butterfly fanning the orchid, or the exquisitely wrought poem.

Pausing between cloudsthe moon restsin the eyes of its beholders—Matsuo Basho, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The poem above also illustrates the simplicity and power of haiku in the hands of a master. The translation has a slightly different "take" on the poem than other translations, and I can't say that my translation is absolutely correct or completely faithful to the original, but I like it and I think it captures the "idea" of the original poem, which suggests the connection between the stages of the moon and human life; both consist of passages and rests. Usually we sleep as the moon floats above. If we see the moon at night, slipping between clouds, it can seem eerily lovely, haunting and restful at the same time. When a poet like Basho deftly invokes the image of the moon, he can appeal to all the things we know (or think we know) and feel about the moon.

See: whose surviving sonsvisit the ancestral graveswhite-bearded, with trembling canes?—Matsuo Basho, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Again, Basho speaks honestly, with a daunting but compelling truthfulness. The ancient Greek poets also spoke of death forthrightly. Here's my "interpretation" of an ancient Greek epitaph (a gravestone inscription) that rivals Basho in brevity, forthrightness and clarity.

Spring passes byagain and again in layersof blossom kimonomay you see wrinklescome with old ageIku haru o/ kasane gasane no/ hana-goromo/ shiwa yoru made no/ oi mo miru beku

—Matsuo Basho trans. by Jeff Robbins and Sakata Shoko

A "blossom kimono" is an exquisite robe worn just once a year to view cherry blossoms, then folded up and stored away until the next cherry blossom celebration. The spatial and temporal meanings of Kasaneru overlap in a web of blessing and hope for Kasane and all female children. "Layers of kimono" can refer to the two-layered kimono over an inner robe; the succession of blossom kimono one woman wears from bright to sedate as she ages; and the passing of the kimono to her daughter, who is the next layer of herself. Both the kimono and her face also have "wrinkles." By encapsulating the existence of one woman from newborn to wrinkles, the tanka is an ode to life.