The Narrow Road (17) Farewell – Haiku and Tanka – December 31, 2015

in the sea
bobbing on the waves
a passing story

§§

through sun and tempest
this infinite sea reveals
mysteries of life

each tiny shell a secret
each new wave a story

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem #887 Returning home: between the waves, a clam

between the waves
small shells mingle with
bits of bush clover

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

a clam
torn from its shell
departing autumn

©Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

The Narrow Road (Farewell) – Haibun – December 31, 2015

Today is the last time I will sign my posts 2015.  So many many things happened in this passing year;  wonderful beautiful moments woven together with terribly tragic moments creates in me sensations of starkness, like some fantastic loudly painted mural that perhaps only Picasso might have created.  I will remember it as a year of rapid and impetuous change and as the year I published my first book of waka.  I will remember it as the year I made many wonderful friends and felt the warmth of a loving family both real and virtual.  I will remember the desolation of death that visited twice in a few short months.

The wisdom of Zen teachings were never so “real” to me as they have been in this year. Walking the narrow path of the here and now has saved me and nurtured me through triumph and tragedy.  I wish everyone a wonderful new year and hope that peace may become our by-word and not vendetta, that tolerant understanding may be our goal and not hard-hearted narrow-minded prejudice. And I wish for you many many sweet strawberries.

on this narrow road
between the lake and forest
the golden sun glows

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem #887 Returning home: between the waves, a clam

between the waves
small shells mingle with
bits of bush clover

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

The Haibun – Thoughts – December 30, 2015

Yosa Buson(1716-1783) “The Narrow Road to the Deep North” (Important Cultural Property). Edo period, dated 1779. The right side of six-fold screen.**

I was “googling” today to see if I could find something particularly interesting to write about haibun, basically I was just interested in a “how to write a haibun” page but came up with a treasure trove,  this interesting article on Haibun Today: Transmissions of Haibun by David Cobb of Shalford, Esse, England in the September issue of 2013.

I found this a fascinating read about the transmission of haibun into Western society (and specifically to Britain ) … especially considering that haibun had/has become almost a dead letter until recently in its native Japan: “Toshinori (Nenten) Tsubouchi, began encouraging the genre these past few years in Japanese, partly under the stimulus of Hisashi Miyazaki, who in turn was influenced by SHG (Tito) and Ken Jones (both of Britain)*”.  Of course haibun was introduced to the west thanks to the translation of Nobuyuki Yuasa who translated Basho’s The Narrow Road to the Deep North (Penguin Classics, 1966).

Before this wonderful translation though,  Jack Kerouac might be considered to be the first westerner to actually write a haibun of sorts:

“Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums and On the Road have certain resemblances to haibun, in attitude if not in execution. […] In The Dharma Bums, Kerouac’s alter ego, Japhy Ryder, is bitten with the same sense of mission: ‘This,’ he said (meaning The Dharma Bums) ‘is really a book about religious vagrants . . . rucksack wanderers . . . Zen lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason.’ We might accept this, right down to the present day, as not a bad description of what haibun means to a good number of those who are intoxicated by the form.” (article cited above)

I myself only discovered the haibun in August of 2013 through a blog called Ligo Haibun hosted by Hamish Gunn which is now closed I think.  One thing I’d noticed was that the haibun has often become a sort of flash fiction or short story with haiku interspersed in it or with a more classical haiku ending and sometimes they’re tales about inner journeys, but certainly they’re rarely a travel diary (which I admit  that I myself have written in all these forms) and quite frankly, haibun today seems to have little to do with Basho’s Oku-no-hosomichi (The Narrow Road to the Deep North) …

“Where might haibun stand in relation to these experimental forms? We seem to agree that haiku is a poem conceived (observed) in a flash; some also hold that it is also best recorded (written down) in a flash, though more of us—from Bashō onwards—demur that haiku should be crafted carefully over any length of time. Kerouac also, though we may associate his method with ‘action writing’ and ‘stream of consciousness’, is on record as saying ‘haiku is best reworked and revised.’ ‘Flash writing’ is not to be confused with ‘first thoughts, best thoughts’, better left untouched. The ‘flash’ is a loose measure of the time it takes to read a piece, but not the time it took to write it, or the time needed, after reading it, to absorb it. All this applies equally to haiku and haibun.

Of course, haibun is not ‘flash fiction’. From the point of view of subject matter, most haibun are ‘flash-faction’, an umbrella for sub-sets such as ‘flash history’, ‘flash legend’, ‘flash myth’, ‘flash memoir’, ‘flash essay’, ‘flash diary’, ‘flash journal’, ‘flash travelogue’, ‘flash prose poem’; though there are indeed examples that we might call ‘flash story’ and even ‘flash fairy tale’ and ‘flash science fiction’. Ken Jones has aimed to broaden his readership by calling some of his output ‘haiku stories’.

Interest in ‘short writing’ exists not least in creative writing courses—among students, and among tutors. It is for that reason it seemed to me timely to offer, in tandem, Marching with Tulips—a very varied collection of different types of haibun—and What Happens in Haibun—a study which tries to pinpoint whatever roles haiku may play when embedded in prose. (article cited above).

To be honest, unlike with haiku and other waka, I’d never really looked into what haibun is or isn’t nor of its evolution or history or even where it stands in the world of poets (Japanese and Western) today.  I found this article stimulating enough to want to go and do a little more research into this fascinating genre.

*Some background about the British haibun tradition – Icebox

What Happens in Haibun

On David Cobb’s Marching with Tulips

Icebox a blog dedicated to haiku and haibun that began publishing in 2008

**I found the photo of this panel on Art and Life in an interesting post entitled: “Haibunga!”

Narrow Road (16) – Haiku – December 28, 2015

shadow

writing something
sentiments and shadows
in this empty house

through my window
the moon shines clearly
a friendly face

no harvest moon
this Christmas moon still shines
on snow-less valleys

loneliness
the ducks laughed with us
only yesterday

© G.s.k. 15

Carpe Diem #886 the journey continues: writing something, the moon clear, harvest moon, loneliness

writing something
pulling apart the fan
missing someone

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

the moon clear
on sand carried over here
by a saint

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

 Harvest moon
weather in the northern areas
is unsettled

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

loneliness
clarity is only out done
by an autumn beach

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

dripping wet moon
the Water Bearer spills
water from the bowl

© Chèvrefeuille

The Narrow Road 15 (A) – Tanka – December 26, 2015

the dew is heavy
along this narrow road
ah – cold misty dawn
alone my footsteps proceed
seeking inner peace and love

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem #885 without you: Stone Mountain, at Yamanaka, from this day on

from this day on
dew will erase the writing
on my hat

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

underneath the bridge
warming their hands at a fire basket
those … lost and alone

© Chèvrefeuille

 

The Narrow Road (15 B) – Tanka – December 26, 2015

wandering alone
astonished by the love found
my life is complete
I’ll walk this narrow road
in peace from this day onwards

© G.s.k. ‘15

 

 

Carpe Diem #885 without you: Stone Mountain, at Yamanaka, from this day on

 

sweeping the garden
I want to leave in the temple
scattered willow leaves

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

 

3 Word Wednesday #459

Wander, verb, walk or move in a leisurely, casual, or aimless way, move slowly away from a fixed point or place, of a road or river) wind with gentle twists and turns in a particular direction; meander; noun: an act or instance of wandering.

Astonished, adjective: greatly surprised or impressed; amazed.

Complete, adjective: having all the necessary or appropriate parts, entire; full, having run its full course; finished, (often used for emphasis) to the greatest extent or degree; total; verb: finish making or doing.

The Narrow Road (14b) – Haiku – December 22, 2015

ah – human glory
returning unto nature
empty-handed

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem #884 on our way home: the scent of early rice, the tomb also shakes, autumn coolness, red more red, a lovely name, how pitiful

how pitiful
under the armored helmet
a cricket

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

The Narrow Road (14a) – haiku – December 22, 2015

autumn day
dressed in yellow sunflowers
our last farewell

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem #884 on our way home: the scent of early rice, the tomb also shakes, autumn coolness, red more red, a lovely name, how pitiful

the tomb also shakes
my weeping voice is
the autumn wind

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

The Narrow Road (13) – Choka – December 20, 2015

in the willow world
praying, they sway, their tears fall
walking a narrow road
outcasts these orchids must go
travelling alone
drifting on the ancient sea
of rain and clouds
renewing their lifeless vows
with the setting sun
these wilted flowers are cast-off
at dawn with moon-set
as white froth beats on the shore

lonely travellers
go on as all travellers go
seeking redemption
in the warmth of the Saviour
follow then the middle road

© G.s.k. ‘15

* Wu-Wei – in Taoism (which Zen incorporates) this is cultivation of a mental state in which our actions are quite effortlessly aligned with the flow of life. It is also often translated as “the middle road” by some.

Carpe Diem #883 journey through the rough north of Honshu: a rough sea; in one house

Exhausted by the labor of crossing many dangerous places by the sea with such horrible names as Children-desert-parents or Parents-desert-children, Dog-denying or Horse-repelling, I went to bed early when I reached the barrier-gate of Ichiburi. The voices of two young women whispering in the next room, however, came creeping into my ears. They were talking to an elderly man, and I gathered from their whispers that they were concubines from Niigata in the province of Echigo, and that the old man, having accompanied them on their way to the IseShrine, was going home the next day with their messages to their relatives and friends.

I sympathized with them, for as they said themselves among their whispers, their life was such that they had to drift along even as the white froth of waters that beat on the shore, and having been forced to find a new companion each night, they had to renew their pledge of love at every turn, thus proving each time the fatal sinfulness of their nature. I listened to their whispers till fatigue lulled me to sleep. When, on the following morning, I stepped into the road, I met these women again. They approached me and said with some tears in their eyes, ‘We are forlorn travelers, complete strangers on this road. Will you be kind enough at least to let us follow you? If you are a priest as your black robe tells us, have mercy on us and help us to learn the great love of our Savior.’ ‘I am greatly touched by your words,’ I said in reply after a moment’s thought, ‘but we have so many places to stop at on the way that we cannot help you. Go as other travelers go. If you have trust in the Savior, you will never lack His divine protection.’ As I stepped away from them, however, my heart was filled with persisting pity.

in the same house
prostitutes, too, slept:
bush clover and moon

© Basho (Tr. David Landis Barnhill)

Narrow Road (12) – Tanka – December 19, 2015

Verona Train Station

travelling under stars
each mile further from home
over oceans and hills
passing guarded checkpoint gates
this trip – forty-five years long

© G.s.k. ‘15

Carpe Diem #882 beneath the stars of the deep north: low tide crossing, July

After lingering in Sakata for several days, I left on a long walk of a hundred and thirty miles to the capital of the province of Kaga. As I looked up at the clouds gathering around the mountains of the Hokuriku road, the thought of the great distance awaiting me almost overwhelmed my heart. Driving myself all the time, however, I entered the province of Echigo through the barrier-gate of Nezu, and arrived at the barrier-gate of Ichiburi in the province of Ecchu. During the nine days I needed for this trip, I could not write very much, what with the heat and moisture, and my old complaint that pestered me immeasurably.

July
ordinarily the sixth night
is not like this

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)