Basho - Chrysanthemum under sake cup - Complete Haiku (7), 1675-76

1675-76 (Enpo 3 & 4), 32-33 years old

Basho chose Edo as the stage for a new chapter in his life, that of a haikai master, because there was not much competition - unlike Kyoto, for example, where Kigin and other famous masters ruled. Basho had already befriended several Edo residents, most notably the wealthy fish merchant Sugiyama Sanpu (1647-1722), who probably helped him settle in this new city. He also did some odd jobs, such as working as a scribe for Takano Yuzan, a haikai master originally from Kyoto.

In the late spring of 1675, Yuzan introduced Basho to Nishiyama Soin (1605-82), the founder of the Danrin school, who was visiting Edo at the time. The school was founded in reaction to the "bookishness" and concern for traditional culture of the Teimon school, to which Basho had previously belonged. In fact, it was around 1675 that the Danrin school began to dominate the haikai world by broadening the scope of haikai in both subject matter and diction, making it more plebeian. Instead of formalism and didacticism, the new school looked to humor and low comedy for fresh inspiration. Elegant subjects were parodied or ridiculed, and puns and allusions were used to provide a humorous contrast to a mundane subject, not to display urbane wit. Basho attended a haikai meeting held in Soin's honor and changed his pen name from Sobo to Tosei (green peach) to mark the event.

Basho also made the acquaintance of Naito Yoshimune, a daimyo known for his patronage of literature. His Edo mansion was a sort of salon for literati, and Basho met several poets there. He also began to accept students, such as the aforementioned Sanpu and Takarai Kikaku.

In the spring of 1676, Basho collaborated with Yamaguchi Sodo to write two haikai sequences of one hundred verses each, later published as Edo ryogin shu (Two Poets in Edo). The opening verses honor Soin by alluding to his pseudonym, showing that Basho now firmly considered himself part of the Danrin school.

In the summer of 1676 Basho was - after four years - sufficiently established in Edo to make his first journey home to visit his family in Ueno. In contrast to later visits, Basho did not write a travelogue, but we have a handful of hokku that can be ascribed to this trip. Basho arrived in Ueno around July 30 and stayed until August 11 - so it was a rather short stay. Although Basho's Danrin-style now was different from the Teimon-style still in vogue in Ueno, he took part in several haikai gatherings. On his return to Edo he took his nephew Toin with him, the 16-year old son of his elder sister.

(54)

town doctor: fetched by a horse from the mansion

machi isha ya yashiki-gata yori komamukae

町医師や屋敷がたより駒迎

Basho pokes fun at the low status of city physicians: they were physicians for the common people, considered lower in status than a physician employed by a feudal lord or high-ranking official. "Komamukae" is a historical term referring to the annual acceptance of new horses (komashiki) by the imperial court. 

The season is autumn (kigo: komamukae).

(55)

acupuncturist: pounding my bare shoulder

haritate ya kata no tsuchi utsu karakoromo

針立や肩に槌うつから衣

The word haritate here refers to an acupuncturist's tools (needles and a small hammer), so it can be taken as pars pro toto for the acupuncturist himself. The acupuncturist uses a small hammer to drive the needle into the skin, an activity that is likened to beating on cloth (cloth fulling, to make the cloth soft and shiny, an important process often done in autumn, and often mentioned in classical poetry). Karakoromo is a play on "Chinese robe" and an "empty" or discarded robe, meaning that the patient's shoulder is bare.

The season is autumn (kigo: koromo utsu).

(56)

Musashino Plain: stag call, a mere inch long

Musashino ya issun hodo na shika no koe

武蔵野や一寸ほどな鹿の声

The once wild Musashino Plain is a large plateau between the Arakawa and Tama Rivers west of Edo, now called the Kanto Plain (the largest plain in Japan). The Musashino Plain was a popular subject in the visual arts at the beginning of the early modern period, and it was also famous in Japanese poetry as a place name associated with the moon and autumn grasses.

In the vastness of the Musashino Plain, even the voice of a deer is very small and does not carry far. "Issun", one inch, refers both to the size of the deer when seen from afar and to the weakness of its call when heard from a distance. It is a deliberate exaggeration to show the immensity of the Musashino Plain.

The season is autumn (kigo: shika no koe).

(57)

chrysanthemum afloat beneath my sake cup: Kitsuki tray

sakazuki no shita yuku kiku ya Kitsukibon

盃の下ゆく菊や朽木盆

[A Kutsukibon tray]

"Sakazuki" is a shallow, footed sake cup, often used for ceremonial purposes, that holds no more than two sips of sake. It should be raised to the mouth with two hands, one on the side and one on the bottom.

Kutsukibon is a black lacquered tray from the village of Kutsuki in Shiga Prefecture (on the west side of Lake Biwa). It usually has a simple but bold design of a red chrysanthemum.

Sake spilled from the sake cup onto the tray with the chrysanthemum design reminds Basho of chrysanthemums floating in the water coming from the Yoro Waterfall. The No play Yoro is dedicated to this waterfall, which is considered to be life-enhancing. This is partly because of its association with chrysanthemums - according to a Chinese legend, drops of chrysanthemum water allowed a hermit to live for 800 years - and partly because of its association with sake, which is presented in the No-play as medicinal water. In fact, the water of the Yoro Falls is nothing but beautifully clear sake!

Probably written on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, the day of the Chrysanthemum Festival.

The season is autumn (kigo: kiku).

(58) From here: 1676

weighing spring in Kyoto against Edo on the scale

tenbin ya Kyo Edo kakete chiyo no haru

天びんや京江戸かけて千代の春

If it were possible to weigh Edo and Kyoto on a pair of scales, they would be well balanced, for both are enjoying a beautiful spring - and spring here refers to New Year's Day, which was considered the first day of spring. "Kakete" is a play on words, as it means both "to weigh", "to be in balance", and "covered with". A balance was usually used in a merchant's shop - often to weigh silver, which was used as money.  One critic has remarked: "A surprising comparison typical of the Danrin school." (Basho and His Interpreters, p. 36)

The season is spring, the New Year (kigo: chiyo no haru).

(59)

to these plum blossoms the ox's first moo of the year.

kono ume ni ushi mo hatsune to nakitsubeshi

此梅に牛も初音と鳴きつべし

There are many thousands of shrines dedicated to Tenjin, the historical statesman and poet Sugawara no Michizane, all over Japan. You can recognize them by two symbols: the plum blossom, which is used in a stylized form as the emblem of the shrine, and the ox. Plum trees were also often planted. Plum blossoms were popular with Chinese poets, and Michizane wrote famous poems about this tree, which was considered the symbol of the Confucian gentleman (it emits a delicious but not too strong fragrance when the weather is still cold - like the "virtue" of the gentleman in adverse circumstances).

According to legend, when Michizane went into exile to Dazaifu in Kyushu, he addressed the plum tree in his Kyoto garden as follows

when the east wind blows,
spread your fragrance,
plum blossoms -
even though your master is gone,
don't forget spring.

Legend has it that the plum tree followed its master to Dazaifu, where it still stands today at the Tenmangu Shrine in Dazaifu. Because of this background, it is known as "tobi-ume" (flying plum).

In Shinto, each kami (god) has its own messenger animal: the fox for Inari, the crow for Hachiman, and the monkey for the Hie (Hiyoshi) shrines. In the case of Michizane and the Tenmangu shrines, the animal is the ox, which is not so strange since oxen pulled the carts in which court aristocrats like Michizane rode. Even when Michizane died in exile in Dazaifu in 903, he was entitled to a grand funeral with an ox cart to carry his body. However, when the funeral procession was on its way to the burial ground, the ox pulling the cart sat down halfway and refused to move. This was interpreted to mean that Michizane wished to be buried at that exact spot (where the Dazaifu Tenmangu Shrine now stands). Since then, the sitting ox has been one of the symbols of Tenjin, the deified Michizane, and you'll find many ox statues in Tenmangu shrines  [quoted from my blog article "Buson and Kitano Tenmangu"]

"Hatsune" is the first song of a bush warbler in the new year, but since it refers to a cow here, it is the first low (moo) of the new year (an expression coined by Basho).

The season is spring (kigo: ume ).

(60)

I, too, gaze upon the god's treasures: plum blossoms above

ware mo kami no hiso ya aogu ume no hana

我も神のひさうやあふぐ梅の花

"Hiso" (hizo) has a double meaning: "treasured" in the sense that the plum blossoms are the treasures of the Tenmangu shrine, and "sky or firmament" based on a poem by Sugawara no Michizane, who, in exile, looked up at the sky, still unable to understand his fate.

The season is spring (kigo: ume no hana).

(61)

rooted in clouds, Fuji resembles a verdant cedar

kumo wo ne ni Fuji wa suginari no shigeri kana

雲を根に富士は杉なりの茂りかな

Mt. Fuji is a high mountain, and the clouds do not rest on its summit, but on its roots. The conical shape of Mt. Fuji rises above the clouds, making it look like a giant cedar tree. In summer, Mt. Fuji is not white with snow, but covered with fresh greenery.

In June 1676, Basho returned to his hometown of Iga-Ueno. This haiku is believed to have been written during his journey from Edo to Iga-Ueno.

The season is summer (kigo: shigeri).

(62)

Mount Fuji: a flea carrying a tea mortar

Fuji no yama nomi ga chausu no ohori kana

富士の山蚤が茶臼の覆かな

A tea mortar is a stone mill for grinding tea leaves, to make powdered green tea (matcha). Compared to a regular stone mill, the upper part (rotating part) is higher than the lower part (fixed part). It has been said since ancient times that Mt. Fuji is shaped like such a tea mortar.

Toshiharu Oseko writes: "When the lid, which is made of tanned paper, is placed on the tea mortar, it looks like Mount Fuji."

There is also a parody here of a children's song about "a flea shouldering a tea mortar jumped over Mt Fuji".

I find this hokku rather far-fetched.

The season is summer (kigo: nomi).

(63)

lifesaver: beneath my bamboo hat a spot of coolness

inochinari wazuka no kasa no shitasuzumi

命なりわづかの笠の下涼み

The preface to this poem says: "At Sayo no Nakayama". Sayo no Nakayama was a dangerous pass on the Tokaido road in Shizuoka and a famous utamakura because of a poem Saigyo wrote about it. Having grown old, Saigyo finds himself once again climbing the pass of Sayo no Nakayama, leading to the exclamation: "How wonderful life is!" Basho's hokku is thus a parody of Saigyo's poem.

The season is summer (kigo: suzumi).

(64)

the summer moon: departing Goyu, already in Akasaka

natsu no tsuki Goyu yori idete Akasaka ya

夏の月ごゆより出て赤阪や

Goyu and Akasaka were two of the 53 post towns on the Tokaido Highway near Toyokawa in Aichi Prefecture. Goyu-shuku (the 35th station) was less than 2 km from Akasaka-juku (the 36th station), making them the closest stations on the entire Tokaido. Goyu is known for its pine colonnade, and Akasaka was popular for its meshimori onna, maidservants who also provided other services.

Like Basho, who walked from Edo to Iga Ueno, the moon walks the short distance from Goyu to Akasaka. "The hokku suggests the brevity of the summer night by a Danrin-type comparison". (Basho and His Interpreters, p. 37)

The season is summer (kigo: natsu no tsuki).

(65)

Fuji's breeze: a keepsake from Edo borne on my fan

Fuji no kaze ya ogi ni nosete Edo miyage

富士の風や扇にのせて江戸土産

It was a traditional and elegant custom to present a gift by placing it on a hand fan. Basho has no real gift, so he jokingly offers the cool breeze of Mt. Fuji. (Since fans are often painted, one could even imagine that the fan in question carried a picture of Mt. Fuji).

According to Toshiharu Oseko, this was the hokku of a kasen, a linked sequence of 36 verses, written during a party at the residence of Takahata Shiin in Basho's hometown of Ueno.

The season is summer (kigo: ogi).

(66)

traveled hundreds of miles for the coolness under distant clouds

hyakuri kitari hodo wa kumoi no shitasuzumi

百里来たりほどは雲井の下涼

What I have loosely translated as "miles" are actually "ri", a traditional Japanese unit of distance (about 4 kilometers). "One hundred ri" is not far off the mark, as the distance between Edo and Iga Ueno was 107 ri and 28 cho, or 428 kilometers, according to Toshiharu Oseko.

This was the hokku of a kasen held at the house of Yamagishi Hanzan, also in Basho's hometown. Basho praises his hometown (which is far from Edo), where he can enjoy the cool air under its clouds despite the hot summer weather.

The season is summer (kigo: suzumi).

(67)

gazing long at the moon over mountains unknown in Edo

nagamuru ya Edo ni wa marena yama no tsuki

詠むるや江戸にはまれな山の月

"Edo" is used in a double sense: of course as Edo, the city of the Tokugawa shogun, but also, written with different kanji, in the Buddhist sense as an unclean land where people are entangled in worldly desires. The moon often served as a symbol of enlightenment in classical poetry such as that of Saigyo.

This was a hokku written at another kasen party in Ueno. It is a greeting (aisatsu-ku) to admire the local beauty, by an invited guest.

The season is autumn (kigo: tsuki).

(68)

at last it's here, at long last: year's end

nari ni keri nari ni keri made toshi no kure

成りにけりなりにけり迄年の暮

"Nari ni keri" is an idiomatic phrase used in No plays. The repetition is humorous and also shows Basho's impatience for the end of the year.

The season is winter (kigo: toshi no kure).

Basho - Taros and harvest moon - Complete Haiku (6): Roundup of Early Poems

1661-1672 (Kanbun period), 18-29 years old

A final collection of hokku written by Basho in his hometown of Ueno before he moved to Edo in 1672. These hokku are generally simpler than the dated hokku in the previous chapters. Compared to Basho's later, philosophical works, these are no great hokku, but the technical handling is impressive.

(44)

more loathed by flowers than human mouths: the mouth of the wind

hana ni iya yo seken-guchi yori kaze no kuchi

花にいやよ世間口より風のくち

Iya yo, hateful (worse) is an expression from a popular song. For the rest, this poem is very straightforward.

The season is spring (kigo: hana).

(45)

starry-eyed from gazing at the weeping cherry

me no hoshi ya hana wo negai no itozakura

目の星や花をねがひの糸桜

You get "stars in your eyes" from reading too long or looking at something too intently.

The season is spring (kigo: itozakura).

 

(46)

taros my life's debt, today harvest moon once more

inochi koso imodane yo mata kyo no tsuki

命こそ芋種よ又今日の月

[Simmered taros]

Tsukimi, "moon viewing," is a Japanese festival honoring the autumn moon, typically held on the 15th day of the eighth month of the traditional Japanese calendar, known as Jugoya (fifteenth night). Tsukimi traditions include displaying decorations made of Japanese pampas grass (susuki) and serving white rice dumplings (known as tsukimi dango), taro, and chestnuts, as well as sake, as offerings to the moon to pray for a bountiful harvest.

Sato-imo or taro (Colocasia esculenta) is a small, round, light gray tuber. It is not a potato, but a member of the arum family. Taro is grown in swampy fields and is one of the oldest cultivated plants in the world - taro has been grown in Asia for thousands of years. The tubers are boiled, roasted, baked or fried. After peeling and boiling for a long time, taro looks quite creamy. They are often cut into beautiful hexagons and have a good taste due to their high sugar content. Taro is mainly used in kenchin-jiru, miso soup and stewed dishes, but also in osechi-ryori. Taro is indeed a delicacy, and as Basho says in this hokku (somewhat ironically, in a haikai manner), "He owes his life to taro".

The season is autumn (kigo: kyo no tsuki).

(47)

swept into the fire not letters but colored leaves!

fumi naranu iroha mo kakite kachu kana

文ならぬいろはもかきて火中哉

Love letters were often burned after being read, but here the red autumn leaves are raked into the fire. The hokku is full of related words: fumi (letter), iroha (both red leaves and a term for the traditional Japanese syllabary), kachu (in the fire, but also a technical term for letter writing), and kaku (to write, but also to rake).

The season is autumn (kigo: iroha).

(48)

in every mouth red tongues and red leaves

hitogoto no kuchi ni arunari shita-momiji

人毎の口に有也した栬

In the fall everyone talks about the red leaves, so they are "in everyone's mouth". But our tongue is also red (and also in our mouth), and here it is jokingly compared to the red leaves. "Shita-momiji" are literally "the lower red leaves," but here "shita" is also a pun on "tongue".

The season is autumn (kigo: shita-momiji).

(49)

when planting, nurture like a child, the baby cherry!

uuru koto ko no gotoku seyo chigozakura

植うる事子のごとくせよ児桜

A simple hokku based on the association between "baby cherry tree" and a human child: treat the tree as importantly as a human child. A baby cherry is a wild cherry tree with small blossoms.

The season is spring (kigo: chigozakura).

(50)

grown with dew drooled by bamboo grass: a bamboo shoot!

takeuna ya shizuku mo yoyo no sasa no tsuyu

たけうなや雫もよよの篠の露

This hokku is not as simple as it looks. "Yoyo" means "falling", but also "bamboo shoots", "generation after generation" and "night after night". In other words, new generations of bamboo (bamboo shoots) are nourished by dew drops falling from the bamboo grass at night. Moreover, this is a parody of an expression from The Tale of Genji: "Grabbing a piece of bamboo shoot, Kaoru eats it with slaver falling down" (takauna wo tsuto nigirimochite shizuku mo yoyo to kuinurashi) [from Toshiharu Oseko, Basho's Haiku Vol. 2, p. 30] The dew dripping from the bamboo grass is compared to Kaoru (the antihero of the last ten books of The Tale of Genji) eating a bamboo shoot while drooling. So this is a very Teimon school type of hokku.

The season is summer (kigo: takeuna)

(51)

their sight almost makes me snap: golden lace flowers

miru ni ga mo oreru bakari zo ominaeshi

見るに我もおれる計ぞ女郎花

[Ominaeshi]

Ominaeshi is a small and delicate yellow flower (Patrinia scabiosifolia), also known as eastern valerian or golden lace. In Japan, the name is interestingly written with the kanji for "flower of the courtesan (joro)". This is based on a 9th century waka by the priest Henjo: "I've cut you off just because of your name: 'Flower of the Courtesan,' don't tell anyone that I've been corrupted!"

Basho also uses the word "snap," "oreru," but he is not talking about the flowers, but about himself in the sense of "being impressed".

For more about the priest Henjo, see my translation of his waka in One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each.

The season is autumn (kigo: ominaeshi)

(52)

tonight no time to sleep: moon viewing party!

kyo no koyoi neru toki mo naki tsukimi kana

けふの今宵寝る時もなき月見哉

A poem about the Tsukimi or Moon-viewing festival of the 15th day of the 8th month.

The season is autumn (kigo: tsukimi)

(53)

its shape still youthful: new moon at evening

miru kage ya mada katanari mo yoi-zukiyo

見る影やまだ片なりも宵月夜

This is a play on a passage from The Tale of Genji (Tamakazura) where the term "mada katanari" ("immature") is used about a young and beautiful princess. Basho humorously applies it to the new moon, which can only be seen in the evening and then disappears.

The season is autumn (kigo: yoi-zukiyo)


Basho Complete Haiku

Basho - Blossoms on the waves - Complete Haiku (5): 1668-1672

1668-1672 (Kanbun 8 - Kanbun 12), 25-29 years old

(34)

crests on waves and snow crystals: water blooming out of season

nami no hana to yuki mo ya mizu no kaeribana

波の花と雪もや水の返り花

In Japanese poetry, the caps or crests of waves are often compared to white blossoms, "the blossoms of waves". Similarly, the poetic name for snow is "the blossom of snow". Since both of these "blossoms" are actually water, Basho calls them "the untimely (unseasonable) flowers of water". For "untimely flowers," he uses the word "kaeri-bana," "returned flowers" or "flowers blooming out of season," because these two unreal flowers are actually water and have returned to their natural state. This is a complicated argument, and there is also a play on words: "yuki" is not only "snow" but also "going," an antonym of "kaeri," "returning".

The season is winter (kigo: yuki).

(35)

on rainy nights, no immortal dwells under the moon's Katsura tree

Katsura-otoko sumazu narikeri ame no tsuki

桂男すまずなりけり雨の月

According to Chinese mythology, there is no "man in the moon", but "an immortal living on the moon (sennin)". He lives under the katsura tree, which, according to the same mythology, grows on the moon. This tree is the Cercidiphyllum japonicum, also known as the Judas tree. On Earth, it is a medium-sized deciduous tree that provides nice shade.

"Sumazu" has a double meaning, as it means both "not living (there)" and "not clear (of the moon)". This is because the view of the full moon (and thus of the Immortal under the Katsura tree) is obscured by rain.

The season is autumn (kigo: ame no tsuki).

 

(36)

outsiders unaware of flowers blooming in the temple grounds

uchiyama ya tozama shirazu no hanazakari

うち山や外様しらずの花盛り

"Uchiyama" is Uchiyama Eikyuji, one of the largest temples in Nara, which was under Kofukuji and also functioned as the jinguji (shrine temple) of Isonokami Shrine. It was located along the Yamabe no michi. This beautiful temple with its many treasures was completely destroyed during the anti-Buddhist movement in the early Meiji period (haibutsu-kishaku); although a few works can still be found in Japan, most of its magnificent treasures were purchased by museums and collectors outside of Japan.

There is a play on words in "uchiyama", as uchi means "inside", as opposed to the outsiders indicated by "tozama". At the same time, "yama" is also a word for temple, as most temples since the Heian period were built on mountains.

Basho says that the complicated doctrine of the temple (Hosso Buddhism) is not understood by outsiders, and at the same time he compares this doctrine to the flowers that bloom inside the temple grounds, which are also unknown to the outside world.

The season is spring (kigo: hanazakari).

(37)

even monsoon rain tests Minare River's shallows

samidare mo sebumi tazunenu Minaregawa

五月雨も瀬踏み尋ねぬ見馴れ河

"Sebumi" is a term for measuring or testing the depth of the shallows of a river - the rain falls so heavily that it looks like it is testing the depth of the river (I suppose people would "test the shallows" of a river to see if the water was low enough to ford). "Minare", the name of the river in Nara Prefecture in Gojo City, also means "often seen", "familiar", so the "often seen river".

The season is summer (kigo: samidare).

(38)

even children know the New Year's arrived: by the sacred straw rope

haru tatsu to warawa mo shiru ya kazarinawa

春立つとわらはも知るや飾り縄

[Decorative rope as used at New Year's in Mie Prefecture]

"Kazari-nawa" is a sacred straw rope (for decorative purposes, e.g. at New Year's); it is made of straw, which is "wara", and that sound returns in "warawa", the children with whom the hokku begins.

The season is spring (kigo: harutatsu & kazarinawa).

(39)

come, don a Jinbei robe, and admire the blossoms in style

kite mo miyo Jinbe ga haori hanagoromo

きてもみよ甚兵が羽織花衣

Here, too, wordplay is central: "kite" has the double meaning of "come" and "wear" and "haori" means both "robe" and "surrender to (the beauty of the blossoms)." A haori is a half coat without sleeves, as worn by men during the winter in Basho's time; a Jinbe-baori is a padded haori. "Hanagoromo" is a flowery costume, a kimono used for viewing cherry blossoms. The first two phrases of the haiku are taken from popular songs of the day. So technically this is a very intricate haiku.

This hokku was included in The Seashell Game (Kai Oi), an anthology compiled by Basho in 1672, in which each hokku is followed by critical comments made by him as a judge for this virtual haiku contest. The comments are more interesting than the poems themselves. This is Basho's earliest known book. It contains 60 hokku by 36 poets, including two by Basho himself.

The format is based on a children's game in which two seashells are placed side by side and compared. In the book, Basho compares pairs of hokku by different authors in the same way. He gives his own hokku low marks, as humility is valued in Japanese culture: "The hokku is poorly tailored, and its words are badly dyed, too. All this is due to lack of craftsmanship on the poet's part." (translated in Basho and His Interpreters by Makoto Ueda (Staford U.P. 1992, p. 30).

On February 23, 1672, Basho dedicated this book to the Tenmangu shrine in Ueno. It was probably handwritten and bound by Basho himself. The dedication to the shrine was Basho's way of saying goodbye to his hometown: in the spring of that year, Basho moved to Edo. He took Kai Oi with him, indicating that he was interested in becoming a professional haikai master who would take students and correct their verse for a fee.

The season is spring (kigo: hanagoromo).

(40)

a pair of deer: furry skin next to furry skin

meoto jika ya ke ni ke ga sorote ke-mutsukashi

女夫鹿や毛に毛が揃うて毛むつかし

The haikai element can be found in the three uses of the word "ke", hair or fur, and in the play on words of "ke-mutsukashi", which is similar to "ki-mutsukashi", discreet or fastidious.

This is the second of Basho’s two poems in Kai Oi (“The Seashell Game”).

The season is autumn (kigo: shika)

(41)

the mountainside summer grove is like a sword at the waist

natsu-kodachi haku ya miyama no koshi-fusage

夏木立佩くや深山の腰ふさげ

A mountain with a summer grove is personified and compared to a samurai warrior. The summer grove becomes a sword worn at the waist. This rather far-fetched image is based on a play on words: "kodachi" is both a grove and a short sword, and "koshi" is both a mountain side and (in koshi-fusage) a cheap sword worn at the waist (according to Toshiharu Oseko).

The season is summer (kigo: natsukodachi)

(42)

Princess Melon, destined to be Empress, how beautiful!

utsukushiki sono hime-uri ya kizaki-zane

美しきその姫瓜や后ざね

[Makuwa melons]

"Hime (princess) uri (melon)" is the same fruit as makuwa-uri (Cucumis melo), an oriental melon of high quality that was the most popular melon in Japan in the past, but lost popularity in the 20th century when new varieties appeared. It is commonly used as an offering during the Bon Festival, and the period around the festival is considered the best time to harvest it. Unripe melons are often made into various kinds of tsukemono (pickles).

There is a play on words in "kisaki-zane," which parodies "kisaki-gane," "someone who will later become an empress".

The season is summer (kigo: hime-uri)

(43)

friends separated by clouds: like wild geese temporarily parting

kumo to hedatsu tomo ka ya kari no ikiwakare

雲とへだつ友かや雁の生きわかれ

When Basho left for Edo in 1672, he wrote the above farewell haiku to his friend Jo Magodayu, who remained in Ueno. As was usual, the poem must have been pasted on Magodayu's gate or enclosed in a letter to him. Although this is a much better poem than most he produced at this time (it has real feeling), it still engages in wordplay: "kari," wild goose/geese, also has the meaning of "temporary," so Basho expresses his hope that he will see his friend again in the future after a temporary absence. Wild geese are migratory birds that leave Japan in the spring and return in the fall.     

The season is autumn (kigo: kari)


Basho Complete Haiku

Basho - A bashful moon - Complete Haiku (4), 1667

 1667 (Kanbun 7), 24 years old

(24)

do blossom faces make you shy? misty moon

hana no kao ni hareute shite ya oborozuki

花の顔に晴れうてしてや朧月

A humorous personification of a hazy moon. At the sight of beautiful blossoms, the moon feels too shy to show itself through the haze.

The season is spring (kigo: oborozuki).

(25)

let plum trees in bloom be untouched by the wind's hand

sakarinaru ume ni sude hiku kaze mogana

盛なる梅にす手引風も哉

The poet asks the wind: "Do not blow down the ume (Japanese plum) blossoms that are in full bloom." As in classical waka poetry, there is a play on related words (engo): "sude" (an "empty hand," which combined with "hiku" means "to leave alone") contains "su," which means "vinegar," and ume are indeed very sour (suppai)!

The season is spring (kigo: ume).

 

(26)

that spring wind: sculpting the willow's hairstyle

achikochi ya menmen sabaki yanagigami

あち東風や面々さばき柳髪

Another complicated poem: "achikochi" means "here and there," but "kochi" also means "spring wind" or "east wind". "Menmen sabaki" is difficult to translate: it means "to do something in one's own way," but "sabaku" also means "to comb (hair)". "Yanagigami" (willow hair) is a word for the long and thin branches of a willow tree, but it can also refer to the long and beautiful hair of a lady. Finally, this is an adaptation (honkadori) of a classical poem by Fujiwara no Kinto (966-1041), which includes a line about "the wind combing the branches of a willow tree". Here (as with many of Basho's early haiku) I must express my gratitude to Toshiharu Oseki, who in Basho's Haiku gives grammatical notes and explanations for all of Basho's hokku (this is from Vol. 2, in which he deals with the early, almost untranslatable hokku).

The season is spring (kigo: yanagi).

(27)

snowflakes large as rice cakes twist into strands: the willow tree!

mochi-yuki wo shira-ito to nasu yanagi kana

餅雪をしら糸となす柳哉

"Mochi-yuki" are snowflakes so large that they look like rice cakes (mochi, made with glutinous rice), and "shira-ito mochi" are rice cakes made with flour in the shape of a thread or string. There are two pairs of related words here: mochi-yuki and shira-ito (mochi) on the one hand, and ito (thread) and yanagi (willow) on the other.

The season is spring (kigo: yanagi).

(28)

even amidst blossoms, my bag of poems remains shut

hana ni akanu nageki ya kochi no utabukuro

花にあかぬ嘆やこちのうたぶくろ

Basho makes fun of himself for not being able to write a single hokku about the splendor of the flowers he observes - this reminds me of his inability to write a poem about the famous Matsushima landscape in Oku no hosomichi. "Kochi," which we saw as "east wind" in an earlier poem, here is slang for "I" or "mine." "Not being able to open his bag of poems" is a joke about "not being able to find a poem inside of himself".

The season is spring (kigo: hana).

(29)

the spring wind ought to coax laughter from the blossoms

harukaze ni fukidashi warau hana mogana

春風に吹き出し笑ふ花も哉

"Fukidashi" means both "to start blowing" and "to burst out laughing". "Fuki" is also an associated word (engo) of "harukaze, spring wind."

The season is spring (kigo: hana).

(30)

as summer approaches, shield the wind's breath from toppling blossoms

natsu chikashi sono kuchi tabae hana no kaze

なつちかし其口たばへ花の風

"The mouth of the wind" refers to the opening of the wind sack carried by the wind god (Fujin) - there is a famous sculpture of the wind god with the wind sack on his shoulders at Sanjusangendo Temple in Kyoto. Covering the mouth of the wind/wind sack has a double meaning: to protect the blossoms, but also to save the wind for the hot season when it is really needed.

The season is spring (kigo: hana no kaze)

(31)

even the callous find joy: wild cherries of Hatsuse

ukarekeru hito ya Hatsuse no yamazakura

うかれける人や初瀬の山桜

"Ukarekeru" means "to make merry", but it is also a pun on "ukari", "cold-hearted" (again by changing only one syllable in the "kasuri" technique). In this sense, it also appears in a famous classic poem by Minamoto no Toshiyori, anthologized in One Hundred Poems, One Poem Each. In this poem, Hatsuse is also mentioned - it is the location of the famous Hasedera temple in Sakurai (Nara).

The season is spring (kigo: yamazakura)

(32)

leaving the drooping cherry tree, I stumble

itozakura koya kaeru-sa no ashimotsure

糸桜こやかへるさの足もつれ

"Itozakura" is now called "shidarezakura", in English "weeping cherry tree", because its branches hang down like a willow. There are many famous trees of this variety throughout Japan, such as the one in Maruyama Park in Kyoto. "Koya kaeru sa" is a phrase from the No Theater and means "when I leave".

"Ito" and "motsure" (entanglement) are related words.

Basho wobbles on his feet as he leaves the weeping cherry tree, partly because he is impressed by the splendor of its blossoms, but also because, like all blossom viewers, he has drunk a lot of sake!

The season is spring (kigo: itozakura)

(23)

when the wind blows, it tapers like a tail: the dog cherry tree

kaze fukeba obosonaru inuzakura

風吹けば尾ぼそうなるや犬桜

["Dog cherry tree"]

"Oboso" means "to taper, to diminish". "O" is the tail of an animal, "boso" comes from "hosoi", "small, meager".

"Inuzakura" is literally "dog cherry tree" (Prunus buergeriana). As the name suggests, with its small and meager blossoms it is considered an unlovely tree in Japan. In haiku, it is used in unflattering comparisons, such as a simile with the tapering tail of a dog.

Associated words are "o" (tail) and "inu" (dog).

The season is spring (kigo: inuzakura)


Basho Complete Haiku

Music in F-sharp minor

F-sharp minor has been characterized as a somber key, a key of melancholy and a sense of being troubled. It has a lonely, pessimistic quality. But it can also be a key full of passion.

F-sharp minor is a minor scale based on F♯, consisting of the pitches F♯, G♯, A, B, C♯, D, and E. Its key signature has three sharps. Its relative major is A major, and its parallel major is F sharp major (or enharmonic G flat major).

On the violin, the F-sharp minor scale has few open strings, which makes it sound dark and cloudy.

Very few symphonies are written in this key, Haydn's Farewell Symphony being a famous example. Dora Pejačević also wrote a symphony in this key.

We have a handful of concertos written in this key: Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 1, Scriabin's Piano Concerto, Wieniawski's Violin Concerto No. 1, Vieuxtemps' Violin Concerto No. 2, Stojowski's Piano Concerto No. 1, and Koussevitzky's Double Bass Concerto. I don't know if it has anything to do with this key, but these were concertos written by virtuosos for their own use. Hans von Bronsart also wrote a piano concerto in F sharp minor, op. 10.

As far as chamber music is concerned, we also have Haydn's Piano Trio No. 40 (Hob. XV:26) and his String Quartet Op. 50, No. 4. A very impressive example is the Piano Quintet in F Minor, Op. 34 by Brahms. Other piano quintets in this key were written by Amy Beach, and Reynaldo Hahn. There is also a Piano Trio (Opus 1 No 1) by Cesar Franck. William Sterndale Bennett wrote a sextet in F-sharp minor; Frank Bridge wrote a Fantasy Piano Quartet in F-sharp minor; Dmitri Shostakovich's String Quartet No. 7 Op. 108 is in F-sharp minor. So it seems to be a rather popular key for chamber music with strings, and especially for combinations of piano and strings.

Piano pieces written in F-sharp minor include Schumann's Sonata No. 1, Brahms' Piano Sonata No. 2 Op. 34, Chopin's Polonaise in F♯ minor, Scriabin's Third Sonata, and Ravel's Sonatine. The slow movement of Beethoven's Hammerklavier Piano Sonata is in this key.

Handel set the sixth of his eight harpsichord suites of 1720 in F sharp minor. Apart from a prelude and a fugue from each of the two books of The Well-Tempered Clavier, Bach's only other work in F-sharp minor is the Toccata BWV 910. Mozart's only composition in the key is the second movement of his Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major.

Characteristic music in F-sharp:

Toccata in F sharp minor, BWV 910

One of Bach's early works based on earlier models, in this case the North German Toccata with distinct contrasting sections and fugal passages embedded in the rhapsodic material, as opposed to the more familiar two-movement Prelude and Fugue format. Other early Bach works that follow this sectional, Buxtehude-influenced format include the Prelude (Toccata) and Fugue in E major, BWV 566, and the Prelude and Fugue in A minor, BWV 551, as well as the other toccatas in this series, BWV 911-916. Although the specific instrumentation is not given for any of the works, they are all strictly manualiter, as none of them calls for pedal parts. The present toccata is somewhat inconsistent, so perhaps individual sections were composed separately and later joined together. The earliest sources for the toccatas in BWV 910, 911, and 916 appear in the Andreas Bach Book, an important collection of keyboard and organ manuscripts by various composers compiled by Bach's eldest brother, Johann Christoph Bach, between 1707 and 1713. This suggests that most of these toccatas were written no later than Bach's early Weimar years, although the early North German style suggests a possible Arnstadt origin.

Pianist: Nathalia Milstein.

Joseph Haydn: Symphony No. 45 in F-Sharp Minor, Hob.I:45, “Farewell”

One of the most famous symphonies in F sharp minor is Haydn's Farewell Symphony. His Symphony No. 45, written in 1772, is accompanied by a story told by Haydn himself: Prince Nikolaus Esterházy and his court were staying longer than usual at the summer palace in Esterháza. The musicians had left their families in Eisenstadt and wanted to return home, and they asked Haydn to help them convey this message to the prince. Haydn put their plea into music: in the last movement, as each player finished, he extinguished the candle on his music stand and left. In the end, only 2 violins remained: Haydn himself and his concertmaster. The message was understood, and the court left for home the next day.

Il Giardino Armonico | Giovanni Antonini

Henryk Wieniawski: Violin Concerto in F-sharp minor No. 1, Op. 14

The premiere of this concerto took place in Leipzig on October 27, 1853, with Wieniawski as soloist, accompanied by the famous Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. The concerto was dedicated to the King of Prussia, who awarded the composer the Great Golden Medal of Arts and Sciences. Although the means used by Wieniawski in the Concerto in F-sharp Minor do not go beyond the style of the time, the amazing thing is that the piece was composed by a seventeen-year-old composer. His compositional style was clearly influenced by Niccolo Paganini, Karol Lipiński and Henri Vieuxtemps. The choice of key alone is reminiscent of Lipiński's Concerto No. 1 or Vieuxtemps' Concerto No. 2. What was new was Wieniawski's use of the cadenza as an integral and obligatory concerto movement. The beginning of the second movement, with the then fashionable title Preghiera (The Prayer), is reminiscent of medieval music. The contemplative mood, however, disappears with the sound of the fanfare, a jocular trumpet motif that begins the third movement. The finale, in the form of a rondo, contains folk elements reminiscent of Hungarian melodies. Full of artistic finesse and virtuoso technique, the work ends with a bravura coda.

Henryk Wieniawski - Violin Concerto Nr.1 | Ray Chen | Cristian Măcelaru | WDR Sinfonieorchester

Johannes Brahms, Piano Quintet in F minor, Op. 34

If Brahms hadn't been such a stickler for perfection, he might have given us a great string quintet instead of the masterpiece that is his piano quintet. When Clara Schumann got Brahms's string quintet manuscript in 1862, she loved it, saying it had strong emotion and beautiful writing for the instruments. But when Brahms turned it into a sonata for two pianos the next year, Clara thought it felt more like a rearranged piece than a proper sonata. Brahms listened to her feedback and combined both ideas into the Piano Quintet we know today. It's one of his earlier works but still highly regarded in chamber music.

The Piano Quintet was inspired by Schubert's String Quintet in C major, especially noticeable in how Brahms originally wrote it for strings and in similarities between their slow movements. It might also draw from Beethoven's "Appassionata" Sonata, starting in F minor with octaves and a main theme interrupted by fast sixteenth notes.

Brahms finished the Piano Quintet in 1864 and published it in 1865, dedicating it to Princess Anna of Hesse. Like most piano quintets written after Robert Schumann's Piano Quintet in 1842, it's scored for piano and a string quartet (two violins, viola, and cello).

Maria Ioudenitch, violin; Andrea Obiso, violin; Matthew Sinno, viola; Timotheos Petrin, cello; Chelsea Wang, piano




César Franck, Symphonic Variations
     
The Symphonic Variations (Variations symphoniques) is a piece for piano and orchestra composed by César Franck in 1885. Critics have praised it as one of his most polished works, with a perfect blend of piano and orchestra. It showcases Franck's skill in using cyclic unity, where one theme transforms into different variations. Both piano and orchestra play significant roles in developing the musical ideas. The piece is in F♯ minor, with the final movement shifting to F♯ major.

Franck dedicated the piece to Louis Diémer, who premiered Franck's symphonic poem Les Djinns in March 1885 to critical acclaim. Franck had promised Diémer a reward, and the Symphonic Variations, with a similar orchestration, was the outcome. Franck's students, such as Vincent d'Indy, Henri Duparc, Paul Dukas, and Ernest Chausson, championed his works, helping the Symphonic Variations gain popularity among major pianists. Alongside Franck's Symphony in D minor, this piece contributed significantly to his posthumous fame. Today, it is a staple of concert performances and has been recorded numerous times.

Britanee Hwee performs Franck's Symphonic Variations with the University of Washington Symphony Orchestra.




Gabriel Fauré, Pavane Op. 50 in F-sharp minor

The Pavane op. 50 in F sharp minor is a single-movement piece for a small symphony orchestra, including two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, and strings. It's dedicated to Countess Elisabeth Greffulhe, known for her beauty, grace, and light step, affectionately called "Madame ma Fée" by Fauré. At her request, Fauré added a part for a mixed choir (sopranos, altos, tenors, and basses) with lyrics by her cousin, Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac. The premiere was on November 25, 1888, performed by the Concerts Lamoureux conducted by Charles Lamoureux. Fauré's Pavane influenced Claude Debussy's passepied in Suite bergamasque and Maurice Ravel's Pavane pour une infante défunte, composed while Ravel was still studying under Fauré at the Paris Conservatoire.

Cracow Young Philharmonic conducted by Tomasz Chmiel.

Alexander Scriabin, Piano Concerto, Op. 20
    
The Piano Concerto in F sharp minor, Op. 20, is an early piece by the Russian composer Alexander Scriabin, written in 1896 when he was 24 years old. It stands out as his only concerto and is often overlooked but considered a gem in classical music. Unlike the grandeur of Tchaikovsky or Rachmaninov, or the flashy virtuosity of Liszt, Scriabin's concerto is refined and introspective, with delicate piano passages that express deeply personal emotions.

The first movement follows a classical structure but is adorned with romantic flourishes, featuring three main themes in the exposition. Its conclusion, reminiscent of Mahler's emotional depth, is particularly remarkable. The central Andante, in the bright key of F sharp major, presents five variations on a chorale-like theme, showcasing different moods and characters. The finale adopts a sonata-rondo form, with a brief development section based on earlier themes and a lengthy conclusion. While less harmonically complex than the first movement, it still evokes powerful emotions, with shifts between F sharp minor and A major and a poignant ending that leaves a lasting impression.

Royal Scottish National Orchestra in Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow
Conductor: Kellen Gray; Soloist: Edyta Mydlowska

Maurice Ravel, Sonatine in F-sharp minor

Maurice Ravel composed the Sonatina between 1903 and 1905 for a competition organized by a magazine that no longer exists. Ravel was the only one chosen for this competition. The term "sonatina" doesn't indicate the difficulty level but rather Ravel's preference for a classical style.

The Sonatina comprises three movements. The first movement follows a sonatina structure, rich with lovely melodies. The second movement starts with a Mozart-like irregular sectional layout, while the third movement is rhythmic, featuring occasional modulations.

Judith Valerie Engel, piano

Dmitri Shostakovich, String Quartet No. 7

Shostakovich was known for his chamber music compositions, and he established his unique approach to chamber music early in his career. Among his chamber works, the String Quartet No. 7, composed in 1960, stands out as the shortest, lasting about 13 minutes. It features a four-movement structure, although the "fourth" movement is not treated as separate, making it effectively a three-movement piece. Additionally, there are no breaks between movements; they are connected seamlessly with attacca notation by Shostakovich.

The first movement, Allegretto, begins with a descending line by the first violin, setting the tone in F♯ minor. This movement showcases a dialogue between two contrasting characters, emphasized through rhythmic patterns. The secondary theme shifts the tonal focus to E♭ minor before returning to F♯ minor in the recapitulation. The movement concludes with a major tonality, adding an expressive touch.

The second movement, Lento, starts with arpeggiation on the second violin, followed by entries from the other instruments. Shostakovich lightens the textures here compared to the outer movements, and performers are instructed to use mutes on their instruments.

The third movement, marked Allegro – Allegretto, begins forcefully, with the viola introducing a theme that develops into a fugue across all instruments. This section transitions into an Allegretto, reminiscent of a waltz, with recurring themes from the first movement interwoven. The quartet concludes with a pizzicato on the cello leading to an F♯ major triad.

Jerusalem Quartet

Basho - Bamboo under snow - Complete Haiku (3), 1666-B

  1666 (Kanbun 6), 23 years old

(14)

separated on Tanabata: love rained off

tanabata no awanu kokoro ya uchuten

七夕のあはぬこころや雨中天

Tanabata is the annual Star Festival held on July 7 when the Cowherd Star (Hikoboshi) and the Weaver Star (Orihime) can meet for just once a year. The hokku again contains a rather forced pun: Basho coins the neologism "uchuten", "in a rainy sky" as an antonym to the expression "uchoten" which is still used in modern Japanese, in the meaning of "rapture, exultation." The rain prevents both stars from meeting, and therefore their exultation is turned into sadness under the rainy sky.

The season is autumn (kigo: tanabata).

(15)

shine brightly, and the capital is mine: today's moon reigns

tanda sume sumeba miyako zo kyo no tsuki

たんだすめ住めば都ぞけふの月

A very complex and artificial hokku on the moon festival. The general meaning is "when I see the harvest moon clearly, the place where I live will be like the capital (Kyoto)." This plays with the proverb (still heard today): "sumeba miyako", "there is no place like home". But "sumeba" not only is "when I live", it can also mean "when it is clear (said of the moon or a stream)." And "kyo" is both "Kyoto" and "today." 

The season is autumn (kigo: kyo no tsuki).

 

(16)

does it mirror Princess Shine-Below? the moon's countenance

kage wa ame no shita teru hime ka tsuki no kao

影は天の下てる姫か月のかほ

Princess Shine Below or Shitateru-hime is a figure from Japanese mythology, who in the Kana Preface to the Kokinshu is mentioned as the ancestress of waka poets. "Kage" here is the same as "omokage," image". This is another moon poem, one in which the moon is compared to Shitateru-hime.

The season is autumn (kigo: tsuki).

(17)

the reed's voice, akin to autumn wind passing mouth to mouth

ogi no koe koya akikaze no kuchi-utsushi

荻の声こや秋風の口うつし

"Kuchi-utsushi" is "copy" or "mimicry," but written differently can also be "to transfer from one mouth to another," - so this, too, is a pun. It is also the haikai element in this poem.

The season is autumn (kigo: ogi).

(18)

reclining bush-clover: her flowery face, so impolite

netaru hagi ya yogan-burei hana no kao

寝たる萩や容顔無礼花の顔

Bush-clover or Japanese clover (Lespedeza) is a legume that is popular as an ornamental plant. In September it bears small purple or white flowers. In Basho's haiku it is comically personified. Of course there is a pun too: "yogan-burei," "impolite-looking" puns on "yogan-birei," "good-looking."

The season is autumn (kigo: hagi).

(19)

the moon's clear mirror in Indian summer: a feast for the eyes

tsuki no kagami koharu ni miru ya me-shogatsu

月の鏡小春にみるや目正月

The haikai element is in the combination of "Indian summer" (koharu, in October) with The New Year (shogatsu). "Me-shogatsu" is also "to enjoy watching something beautiful." "Kagami" (mirror) and "miru" (to see) are so-called associated words, engo, a device one often finds in waka poetry.

The season is winter (kigo: koharu).

(20)

vexed by winter showers, pines adorned with snow

shigure wo ya modokashite-garite matsu no yuki

時雨をやもどかしがりて松の雪

The general meaning is based on the (mistaken) belief that winter showers (shigure) change the color of green foliage to red or yellow. Therefore, the evergreen pines which are left out feel annoyed with those showers for their partiality. So they wait impatiently until they, too, will receive their decorative costume - consisting of snow. This is a humorous personification of the pine trees.

The season is winter (kigo: yuki)

(21)

bamboo under snow, the world turned upside down

shiorefusu ya yo wa sakisama no yuki no take

しほれふすや世はさかさまの雪の竹

This poem carries the headnote "Composed at the place of someone whose child had died." In the No Play "Take no yuki," "Snow on the Bamboos," a mother laments that her son is frozen to death in the snow under a bamboo. A child's death before the parent is not in order, but "the world turned on its head."

"Yo" is "world," as in the common expression "yo wa sakasama" (the world is upside down), but also the node of a bamboo. So both the world and the bamboo nodes are upside down - in the case of the bamboo nodes because the bamboo is drooping down. This is again an intricate word game, but it has also been called a skillful poem of condolence.

The season is winter (kigo: yuki)

(22)

hail mixed with large snowflakes: intricate tapestry!

arare majiru katabira-yuki wa komon kana

霰まじる帷子雪は小紋かな

[Edo-Komon]

"Komon" is a fine pattern, or a kimono made from such cloth. The pattern is so fine that from a distance it almost looks like a solid color.

"Katabira" is an unlined summer kimono, and "katabira-yuki" is "large, flat snowflakes" - so again a word game.

The season is winter (kigo: katabirayuki, arare)

(23)

blooming despite frostbite: a mournful flower field

shimogare ni saku wa shinki no hanano kana

霜枯に咲くは辛気の花野哉

This looks like a straightforward hokku, but there is a quotation hidden from a popular song (a ryutatsu-bushi): "The melancholy flowers bloom every night". And it is of course a case of personification.

The season is winter (kigo: shimogare)


Basho Complete Haiku

Johann Sebastian Bach (73): Four Lutheran (Kyrie–Gloria) Masses, BWV 233–236 (1738-39?)

Johann Sebastian Bach's Lutheran Masses are his four Kyrie-Gloria Masses in F major, A major, G minor, and G major, BWV 233 to 236. They set the Kyrie and Gloria of the Latin Mass and are therefore also called Missa brevis. The complete setting of all parts of the Mass ("Missa tota") consists of the five-part Ordinary: Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus with Hosanna and Benedictus, and Agnus Dei. The composition of the Kyrie and Gloria, on the other hand, is known as the "Missa brevis" and, in Protestant church music, as the "Lutheran Mass". 

[Start of the Kyrie of BWV 232 in Bach's handwriting]

These masses are sung in Latin - and the question remains why Bach chose Latin. Perhaps he wanted these masses to strengthen his ties with the Catholic King August III, who had just ascended the throne in Dresden. In any case, we know for certain that another mass in the series, the B Minor Mass BWV 232 (which Bach later expanded to ), was dedicated to Augustus in 1733. Bach presented the manuscript to the elector in an ultimately successful attempt to persuade the prince to grant him the title of court composer - Bach received the title of "Royal Court Composer" from Augustus III in 1736. Bach's appointment as court composer was one element in his long-term struggle to gain greater bargaining power with the Leipzig Council.

In these short masses, the Kyrie is a one-movement, three-part choral movement, but the Gloria text is divided into five movements, with choral movements at the beginning and end and solo arias interspersed. The total length is about that of an average cantata, suggesting its practical use in church services.

Like the B Minor Mass, the Small Masses consist almost entirely of parodies, that is, revisions of existing choruses and arias. This required new versions of the vocal parts to replace the original German cantata text with Latin words.

Kyrie–Gloria Mass in F major, BWV 233

For the Missa in F major, BWV 233, scored for horns, oboes, bassoon, strings, SATB, and basso continuo, Bach derived most of the six movements as parodies of earlier cantatas. The opening, a dignified Kyrie, is written in an old style à la Palestrina. Bach composed this Kyrie in Weimar, and in the five-voice first version, the first soprano sings the chorale melody "Christe, du Lamm Gottes. The chorale melody is played by horns and oboes.  In "Qui tollis" Bach used the oboe melody "Weh der Seele" from the cantata Herr, deine Augen sehen nach dem Glauben, BWV 102, and for "Cum sancto spiritu" he used the opening section of the cantata BWV 40.

Kyrie–Gloria Mass in A major, BWV 234

For the Missa in A major, BWV 234, scored for flute, strings, SATB, and basso continuo, Bach parodied music from at least four earlier cantatas.

Kyrie–Gloria Mass in G minor, BWV 235

For the Missa in G minor, BWV 235, scored for oboes, strings, SATB, basso continuo, Bach derived all six movements from cantatas as parodies.

Kyrie–Gloria Mass in G major, BWV 236

For the Missa in G major, BWV 236, scored for oboes, strings, SATB, and basso continuo, Bach derived all six movements from cantatas as parodies. The opening is from Cantata 102, while the other two choruses and three arias are from Cantatas 187 and 72. Although adjustments had to be made here and there, the chorus from Cantata 102 was transferred more or less intact. The three lines of text derived from Jeremiah fit surprisingly well into the tripartite Kyrie-Christe-Kyrie invocation.

Video:

BWV 233: Netherlands Bach Society - Interview with conductor Hans-Christoph Rademann
BWV 234: Ludovice Ensemble
BWV 235: Netherlands Bach Society - Interviews with bass Peter Kooij and conductor Jos van Veldhoven
BWV 236: J.S. Bach Foundation (St. Gallen) - Workshop (in German) - Contemplation (in German) 

[Quotes information from the German Wikipedia article "Lutherische Messen" as well as from the website of the Netherlands Bach Society for BWV 233 and 235]


Bach Cantata Index

Basho - Sour rain on plums - Complete haiku (2), 1666-A

1666 (Kanbun 6), 23 years old

Basho in the years 1666-1671

Early in 1666, on the thirteenth anniversary of Teitoku's death, Basho's haiku companion Sengin (Todo Yoshitada) sponsored a commemorative one hundred verse session (hyakuin) of linked haikai in which Kitamura Kigin participated (either in person or by mail-he wrote the wakiku, the second verse). Other participants included Basho and other Iga poets. Sengin wrote the opening verse, expressing his gratitude to Teitoku and no doubt speaking for Basho as well. "...the care in the use of language insisted upon by a learned poet like Kigin undoubtedly influenced Basho and may have first revealed to him that haikai poetry should be not only of the moment but for all time, no less than a waka or a renga." (Donald Keene, World Within Walls, p. 74)

On May 28, 1666, Basho's haiku companion Todo Yoshitada died suddenly in his 25th year. For the next five years, Basho's activities are not documented. It is only certain that he left the service of the Todo clan, as he no longer enjoyed any special favor. However, it is plausible that he continued to live with his family in Ueno, as he is identified as "Sobo of Ueno in Iga Province" in some of his poems from these years. It is also plausible that he visited Kyoto regularly and maintained his relationship with the Kigin circle. What is certain is that he devoted himself more and more to haikai poetry - his verses were published almost every year. We have a total of 37 hokku for these five years (undoubtedly a small portion of what he wrote) - for 1666 alone we have 20 hokku. All of them appeared in various haiku anthologies compiled by renowned masters - most of them in an anthology compiled by Kigin's son, which shows that Basho remained closely associated with the Teimon school.

This also means that many of Basho's early haiku are primarily meant to amuse, and the amusement is created by his skillful use of language. But they express little of Basho's own feelings. Basho simply followed the conventions of the Teimon school, such as playing with words (not only puns, kakekotoba, but also changing the sound of a syllable to change the meaning of a word, called kasuri) and making oblique references to classical literature or turning popular sayings on their heads.

(4)

despite aging others he remains Young Ebisu

toshi wa hito ni torasete itsumo waka ebisu

年は人にとらせていつも若夷

In Edo japan, every year at New Year's, vendors came through the streets selling Ebisu charms, which buyers used to stick on their doors or decorate near the altar of the New Year's God (toshitokudana or ehodana, a shelf set up in the direction of the deity of the year), praying for good luck in the coming year.

Ebisu was originally a god of fishermen and merchants, but he evolved into a general lucky god, one of the well-known Seven Lucky Deities (Shichifukujin). Ebisu is normally represented as a plump figure, smiling happily, and wearing a kimono, a divided skirt (hakama) or a Heian period hunting robe (kariginu) and a tall cap folded in the middle (kazaori eboshi). He holds a fishing rod in his right hand and carries a sea bream (tai, a symbol of good luck) under his left arm. He may also be depicted sitting on a rock, angling.

These amulets carry the same image of Ebisu every year, as if he never gets old - in a contrast with us humans, who have added another year to our lives at New Year's. The poet scolds Ebisu for making us older because Ebisu himself never grows old. He also uses a pun on the name "Waka Ebisu," "Young Ebisu,": "itsumo Waka Ebisu" (Forever Waka Ebisu) puns on "itsumo wakai", "forever young."

The season is New Year (kigo: Waka Ebisu).

(5)

today in Kyoto, ninety-nine thousand people are out to view the blossoms!

kyo wa kuman kusen kunju no hanami kana

京は九万くんじゆの花見哉

A hokku describing the large number of people who fill the city to see the cherry blossoms (hanami). It is a parody of two types of well-known expressions, "Kyo wa kuman hassen-ke," the traditional view that "Kyoto has 98,000 households," and the expression "kisen kunju," "a crowd of rich and poor," in which "kisen" is changed to "kusen" to make in combination with kuman "99,000" - meaning the crowd is even larger than normal. The term "kisen kunju" is also used in No plays to represent a large, bustling crowd, such as the crowd visiting temples and shrines, or the crowd of flower watchers. "Kyo" is both "Kyoto" and "today."

Note the rhythmic alliteration with "k-sounds".

The season is spring (kigo: hanami)

(6)

even the eyes of the poor can see flowers: Japanese thistles

hana wa shizu no me ni mo miekeri oni-azami

花は賤のめにも見えけり鬼薊

Japanese thistle (no-azami)

"Shizu" means "a lowly person," "an ordinary person. There is an old saying that says, "A demon (oni) cannot be seen by ordinary eyes" ("me ni mienu kishin" is also a term that appears in the Kana introduction to the Kokinshu). But Basho says that even though he is an ordinary person, he can clearly see the purple flowers of the thistle - thus making fun of a proverb.

"Oni", "ogre", is combined with "azami", "thistle", to form "oni-azami"="no-azami"=Japanese thistle (Cirsium japonicum). Oni is a "kakekotoba," a pun which also functions in the abovementioned proverb. "Shizu no me ni mienu oni" (a demon the eyes of the poor can not see) is also a phrase from the No play Yamamba (The Mountain Crone).

The season is spring (kigo: azami).

(7)

monsoon rains: pardon my neglect, moon's visage.

samidare ni on-mono-do ya tsuki no kao

五月雨に御物遠や月の顔

"Samidare", "Fifth Month Rain", is a term for the rainy season which in our calendar starts usually in June. I like the term "monsoon" for these heavy, but warm, seasonal rains. The Asian monsoons may be classified into a few sub-systems, such as the Indian Subcontinental Monsoon which affects the Indian subcontinent, and the East Asian Monsoon which affects southern China, Taiwan, Korea and parts of Japan. This seasonal rain is known as Bai-u (plum rain) in Japan, as in this season the Japanese plums (ume) are getting ripe.

The moon is personified and addressed by a common greeting expression, "on-mono-do", which is comparable to the modern "go-busata (itashimashita)," "my apologies for my long silence."

The "face of the moon" (tsuki no kao) is also mentioned in classical literature as The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, The Tale of Genji, etc., although with another association: looking at the face of the moon is considered as "imi," "an ill omen."

The season is summer (kigo: samidare).

Like all further hokku for 1666, this poem appeared in Zoku Yamanoi, a selection of haikai compiled by Koshun under the supervision of his father Kitamura Kigin, published in 1667 - showing Basho's continued association with the Teimon school.

(8)

monsoon's splashing: my ears sour with plum rain.

furu oto ya mimi mo su naru ume no ame

降る音や耳もすう成る梅の雨

[Unripe ume fruit]

Even today, the rainy season (a sort of monsoon), which lasts from about the second week of June to the middle of July (depending on the year and where you are in Japan), is called "tsuyu," a term written with the kanji for "ume rain" 梅雨. This is because the ume fruit ripens at this time of year, perhaps aided by the heavy rains. By the way, ume is often translated as "plum" because it is handy when you are short on space in a poetic line, but technically it is a different fruit, related to both plum and apricot, but unique from both (and only native to Japan and China).

Japanese plums are used to make "umeboshi", pickled plums, an extremely sour (and salty) mouthful! But there is also a saying, "An umeboshi a day keeps the doctor away".

The plums are picked before they are fully ripe. While still green, the umeboshi are cured with sea salt for several months. Umeboshi are eaten as pickles on rice. A bento consisting only of rice and a red plum is called "Hinomaru (Japanese flag) Bento". The red color is obtained with red shiso leaves, a natural method. The flavonoid pigment in shiso leaves gives the plums their distinctive color and a richer flavor.

The same fruit is used to make umeshu, called "plum wine" (but actually a liqueur), which is made by soaking green Japanese plums in shochu or (even more delicious) sake.

In this hokku, Basho makes a joke about the sourness of ume and the fact that tsuyu is written as "plum rain: if you listen to the sound of this rain for too long, even your ears will become sour...

The season is summer (kigo: ume no ame).

(9)

Japanese iris: its water reflection, a perfect duplicate

kakitsubata nitari ya nitari mizu no kage

杜若にたりやにたり水の影

Kakitsubata

Kakitsubata (Iris laevigata) has been cultivated in Japan for over a thousand years. It grows in shallow water and seems to prefer swampy and still ponds. The flowers are usually blue, purple or violet. Kakitsubata is similar to another cultivated Japanese iris, hanashobu (Iris ensata), which also prefers a watery environment (unlike ayame or Iris sanguinea, which grows wild on dry land).

The flower also appears frequently in literature, such as in the Ise Monogatari (Section 9 on Yatsuhashi), where each line of a poem attributed to Ariwara no Narihira begins with one of the five syllables of "ka-ki-tsu-ba-ta". While resting by the Yatsuhashi, or "Eight Bridges," in the famous iris marshes of Mikawa Province, Narihira composed a waka poem that combines the themes of the sense of loss at leaving the capital, considered the only place of society and culture, longing for lost loves, and the beauty of the natural environment. And in the No play "Kakitsubata," a traveling monk meets the spirit of the iris on the bank of a stream in Mikawa Province and is told the story of Narihira and Yatsuhashi.

The Nezu Museum in Aoyama, central Tokyo, owns a pair of National Treasure screens painted by Ogata Korin, which contain the most famous depiction of kakitsubata in art. The screens are displayed every year from mid-April to mid-May, when the kakitsubata are blooming in the pond in the museum garden.

[Korin: Irises, right screen]

Basho's hokku contains a pun on kakitsubata with "kaki-utsusu," to copy. In other words, the image in the water is an exact copy of the real iris. The copying process is also reflected in the repetition of "nitari" in the second line.

The season is summer (kigo: kakitsubata).

(10)

enthralled by the evening glory - I feel weightless, adrift

yugao mitoruru ya mi wo ukari-hyon

夕顔にみとるるや身もうかりヒョン

yugao

"Yugao" literally means "evening face" (or "twilight beauty") and is the name of a bright green vine with white flowers - the English name is "bottle gourd". The young fruit can be used to make kanpyo (dried strips of this gourd used to bind food ingredients together, for example in certain types of sushi), and the mature fruit can be used to make containers for liquids such as sake. But it is the flower, not the gourd, that is undoubtedly meant here, in reference to a famous scene in The Genji Monogatari, where Yugao becomes the nickname of a young woman of low status who lives in a modest house with a woven fence where these inconspicuous flowers grow. When Genji happens to pass by and picks some of the flowers, she sends him a flirtatious poem, thus initiating an affair.

"Mitoruru" means "to be captivated, fascinated". "Ukari" is in modern Japanese "ukkari", absent-minded, but here it is also a pun on uku (ukareru), "to float". The "hyon" at the end makes it a slangy expression, while also providing a pun on hyotan, gourd (which floats on water). It couldn't be more complex, but the meaning is clear: the poet is completely dazzled by the charms of the evening glory. The humorous element is that the unsightly fruit of the plant is brought up in "hyon/hyotan" and that it floats away.

The season is summer (kigo: yugao).

(11)

azaleas by the rocks: tinted red by lesser cuckoo's tears

iwa-tsutsuji somuru namida ya hototogishu

岩躑躅染る涙やほととぎ朱

[The lesser cuckoo]

The "hototogisu" is the "lesser cuckoo" (Cuculus poliocephalus), but it should be noted that it has more positive connotations than its European relatives. The bird has relatively large wings and a long tail, a gray back and a white belly with black stripes. The bad habit it has in common with the Western Cuckoo is that it is also a parasitic breeder. But the Japanese lesser cuckoo has a gentle call and is one of the most popular Oriental songbirds. Because it arrives in Japan around May, it is considered a harbinger of warmer weather.

Since the time of the first collection of poems, the Manyoshu (8th century), this small bird has inspired poets. In haiku, it appears as a seasonal word for "early summer". Because the hototogisu's call is rather sad, it has also been interpreted as expressing the melancholy longing of the soul of a dead person. And because it was believed to sing until it coughed up blood (or shed tears of blood), the modern haiku poet Masaoka Shiki, who suffered from tuberculosis, took "hototogisu" pronounced "shiki" as his pen name...

[A field of red azaleas]

Japan is a paradise for azaleas, and the hardy plant has long graced urban gardens, often blooming for several weeks. Their popularity began with Prince Kusakabe of Nara in the 7th century (who wrote about azaleas in his death poem) and continues in The Tale of Genji, where Genji gives his young lover Murasaki a garden where azaleas grow among other flowers. In the Edo period, there was even a kind of azalea boom among samurai gardeners, who, looking for something new, developed interesting new varieties of the flower.

Azaleas can be distinguished from rhododendrons, of which they are a subgenus, by the fact that they have only five anthers per flower.

Another name for hototogisu is "token," and token or "tokenka" can also mean "azalea". Basho imagines that the azaleas are red because of the bloody tears of the lesser cuckoo. He emphasizes this by using a play on words: he calls the bird "hototogishu", changing the last syllable "su" to "shu", which means vermilion or red. This technique is called "kasuri" in Japanese, but I do not like it very much - it is rather superficial - and cannot be brought out in the translation.

The season is summer (kigo: hototogisu).

(12)

awaiting the lesser cuckoo feels like eons, though brief.

shibashi ma mo matsu ya hototogi-su sennen

しばしまもまつやほととぎす千年

Because it was a harbinger of warmer weather and had a beautiful, musical call, people in Basho's time waited impatiently for the song of the lesser cuckoo.

"Matsu", "to wait", is a pun on "matsu", pine tree - a tree that was said to live a thousand years. Another rather silly pun is found in the last syllable of the name of the hototogisu: "su" is a pun on "suu", several - making this a rather silly hokku (fortunately, these childish puns disappear in translation!). The haikai element is in the exaggeration.

The season is summer (kigo: hototogisu).

(13)

autumn wind against the door's mouth: a piercing cry.

akikaze no yarido no kuchi ya togari-goe

The sound of the autumn wind is personified and compared to a sharp, human voice. There are two sets of wordplay which are untranslatable: "yari" of "yarido," "sliding door" also means "spear"; and "kuchi" is both "opening" (of the door) and "mouth."

In Matsuo Basho, Makoto Ueda says about this hokku (p. 38): "The poem is a clever display of wit, if not much more."

The season is autumn (kigo: akikaze).

Basho Complete Haiku