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

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

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

 

Basho - Spring Within the Old Year - Complete Haiku (1), 1662-1664

1662-1664 (Kanbun 2 - 4), 19 - 21 years old

What is "haiku"?

Today, Basho is known throughout the world as a master of haiku poetry. What many do not realize, however, is that in Basho's time, "haiku" as we know it did not even exist - as Adam Kern, the translator and compiler of The Penguin Book of Haiku, writes in his fascinating preface. The style of haiku we know today - a short poem by a single poet - was actually formulated by the poet and critic Matsuoka Shiki in 1894, long after Basho's death. What prevailed in Basho's time was a form of collaborative literary play called "witty linked verse" (haikai no renga, or renku). In this type of poetry, seventeen-syllable stanzas alternated with fourteen-syllable stanzas, with the entire linked sequence typically consisting of 36 or 100 stanzas (although other lengths were also possible). There were complicated rules for linking and for the content of the various stanzas in the link. The number of participants could vary from several to nine or more.

However, as Japan moved toward modernization and Westernization in the late 19th century, collaborative forms like linked verse seemed not only outdated in the face of Western individualism, but also not at all serious compared to European literature - and therefore not real art. Shiki stepped in to modernize poetry. He distilled the complex, collaborative poetic games into the refined essence of haiku as an independent art form. Shiki noted that the first stanza of a linked verse, known as a hokku, historically stood alone as a poem and set the tone for the entire composition, and he began to call primarily these verses "haiku".

But while it is true that hokku stanzas were singled out centuries ago because they set the tone for the sequence of verses that followed (some anthologies even consisted entirely of hokku), these were not meant to be stand-alone poems, but rather examples of how to begin a linked sequence of verses. Thus, the presence of seemingly independent hokku does not imply a tradition of stand-alone poetry in Japan.

Shiki declared that hokku represented pure literature similar to Western forms, while linked verse did not, effectively marking the end of collaborative verse. This led to the invention of modern haiku out of the premodern tradition of linked verse.

Basho's early life

Basho was born in 1644 (Shoho 1) in the Akasaka ward of the castle town of Ueno in Iga Province, which is now part of Mie Prefecture, about 50 kilometers southeast of Kyoto. His father, Matsuo Yozaemon, was originally from Tsuge, a mountain village about 15 kilometers from Ueno, but had moved to the castle town around the time of Basho's birth. Thus, the exact place of Basho's birth remains uncertain, as it could have been in Tsuge or Akasaka in Ueno. The exact day and month of his birth are also unknown. Originally named Kinsaku, Basho was the second son and had an older brother named Hanzaemon Norikiyo, an older sister, and three younger sisters. About his mother we only know that her parents had emigrated from Iyo Province (now Ehime prefecture).

The family status was respectable, but not very high. The Matsuo family had belonged to the samurai class until the time of Basho's grandfather. By the time of his father, however, the family had lost that status for reasons unknown. Basho's father, Yozaemon, belonged to a special group known as the Musokunin, whose primary occupation was farming, but who could be called upon for military service in an emergency. Despite their military role, Musokunin had no samurai status - they didn't receive stipends like the samurai and had to pay regular taxes, but they were allowed to bear a family name.

During Basho's upbringing, his family resided in the matchlockers' section of Ueno, indicating Yozaemon's military involvement, which likely included regular training to maintain proficiency with muskets. Basho's brother, Hanzaemon, who took over the family after Yozaemon's death in 1666, didn't continue the Musokunin tradition, leading to another decline in the family's status - Hanzaemon was just a landed farmer.

At the age of ten, Basho probably became a page (kogosho) of the Todo clan. The Todo clan, from humble beginnings in Omi province, ruled over Ise and Iga provinces during the Edo period. Basho served Yoshitada, the eldest son of the second generation of the Todo branch that ruled Iga, a young man who was passionately interested in haikai no renga and whose haikai name was "Sengin". As no record of his service survives, Basho must at first have had a low position, it is for example possible he acted as a sort of butler to Yoshitada.

When Basho was thirteen, his father died (age unknown).

In 1662, at the age of eighteen, Basho's involvement in haikai no renga with Yoshitada intensified. He adopted the poetic name "Sobo" (a sinified reading of his then personal name, Munefusa). Under Yoshitada's guidance, Basho began to write haiku seriously, even acting as a messenger to deliver Yoshitada's poems to the Teimon School haikai master Kitamura Kigin in Kyoto for correction. This role allowed Basho to receive training from Kigin. Kigin was a member of the influential Teimon school founded by Matsunaga Teitoku (1571-1653). The Teimon school aimed to create an elegant, humorous style made up of allusions to classical literature mixed with wordplay and witty associations. It is possible that Yoshitada at a very young age had been a student of Teitoku, just before the latter's death.

It was during this year that Basho's earliest known verse was written, marking the beginning of his poetic journey.

[Basho-o Seika, the house In Ueno where
Basho was purportedly born. Now it is a museum.]

Basho's first verse (1662-1664)

The first haiku by Basho that has come down to us was written on February 7, 1663 (other researchers give 1662). It is a joking poem in the style of the Teimon school:

(1)

has spring dawned or has the old year faded? - Little New Year's Eve

haru ya koshi | toshi ya yukiken | kotsugomori

春や来し年や行きけん小晦日

In the lunar calendar, the 29th of the 12th month was known as the "second last day," kotsugomori (the last day of the year, the 30th of the 12th month, was called otsugomori). One could also call kotsugomori "Little New Year's Eve," as opposed to otsugomori, New Year's Eve (as Andrew Fitzsimons does in Basho: The Complete Haiku of Matsuo Basho). Normally, the first day of spring, called risshun, would fall on the lunar New Year's Day, but on rare occasions this day would come one or more days earlier. In 1662 it fell on "Little New Year's Day" (February 7 in the Gregorian calendar for that year). In other words, the beginning of spring happened to fall within the old year, and this inspired Basho to write this witty but rather artificial verse. Also in keeping with the Teimon school's use of themes from classical poetry, it is a parody of a well-known waka that opens the Kokinshu.:

    spring has come
    before the old year is gone -
    what about the rest of the year -
    shall we say 'last year',
    or shall we say 'this year'?

    toshi no uchi ni | haru wa kinikeri | hitotose wo | kozo to ya iwamu | kotoshi to ya iwamu

And if that is not enough, it is also a parody of a poem in the Ise Monogatari:

    was it you who came
    or was it I who went?
    I can't remember...
    was it a dream or real?
    was I sleeping or awake?

    kimi ya koshi | ware wa yukiken | omohoezu | yume ka utsutsu ka | nete ka 

samete ka
   
As Makoto Ueda remarks in Matsuo Basho (p. 37): "This poem is rather trite and contrived, for it centers on a pretended confusion at a slightly unusual coincidence." And he adds, referring to the association with the Ise Monogatari: "Basho's haiku was intended to amuse the reader by the clever borrowing of a phrase from an entirely different context."

This hokku is not included in the Shogakkan volume of Basho's complete hokku - is there perhaps any doubt about its authenticity? But Donald Keene in World Within Walls treats it as the authentic first hokku by Basho, as does Makoto Ueda in Basho and his Interpreters.

(2)

follow the moon's lead: welcome to our traveler's inn

tsuki zo shirube | konata e irase | tabi no yado

月ぞしるべこなたへ入せ旅の宿

"There were about one hundred haikai poets in the province of Iga at the time, but only a few managed to publish in the collections edited in Kyoto and other centers. Basho and Sengin were so honored. In 1664 Matsue Shigeyori's collection Sayo no Nakayama-shu included two poems by Basho and one by Sengin, the first appearance of both in print," as stated by Donald Keene (World Within Walls, p. 73). This hokku and the next one are the first published poems by Basho.

This hokku is usually dated to the fall of 1663.  It is a rather twisted poem with a pun in the style of waka poetry: "tabi" is used as a pun, for "irase tabi" means "please come in" (tabi is then a form of the verb tabu, which means "to honor with") and in "tabi no yado" it means "an inn for travelers".

In true Teimon style, it also contains an allusion to the No play (yokyoku) "Kurama Tengu," which contains the line "The blossoms will lead the way, please come in." In other words, Basho borrowed from a No text an innkeeper's call to customers. From the graceful language, one could also infer that the speaker is an elegant woman, perhaps standing in front of the inn to attract travelers with her charms.

The season is autumn (kigo: tsuki).

(3)

the rosebud cherry blooms - a beautiful memory of old age

ubazakura | saku ya rogo no | omoiide

姥桜さくや老後の思ひ出

Another rather twisted poem. "Ubazakura" (literally, "old lady cherry tree") is also called Kohigan or Higanzakura (Prunus subhirtella) because it blooms very early, around Higan (March 20) in central Japan. In English, it has various names such as winter-flowering cherry, spring cherry, or rosebud cherry. The fact that it blooms before the leaves appear has led to its association with old age, and hence "ubazakura": ironically, "without leaves", "ha nashi," is a pun on "ha nashi", "without teeth" (the sad fate of the elderly in premodern societies). "Rogo", "old age" also refers to "old lady cherry tree".

There is alliteration in "ubazakura saku ya," and the old cherry tree is personified, a device common in the Teimon school.

Also typical of that school is the allusion to classical literature, here to the No play  "Sanemori", which contains the line of an old samurai who says of his expectation to die in battle that no event in his old age will be more memorable - it will be his happiest memory.

However, it is debatable whether the poet really means something like "May your honor flourish in your old age" (like the old samurai, therefore referring to the fact that the elderly woman still retains some of the beauty of her youth), or whether it is a cynical comment on an old lady dressed in fine clothes and heavy makeup. Either way, the allusion to Sanemori expands the meaning of the hokku, and that may have been the main interest of readers in Basho's time.

The season is spring (kigo: ubazakura)


Basho Complete Haiku

Haiku for the New Year

[Dawn at Futamigaura, by Kunisada]

(1) Basho

all of you, worship
the sacred rope of Futami
at the end of the year!

mina ogame | Futami no shime wo | toshi no kure

皆拝め二見の七五三を年の暮

Futamigaura (in the poem just called "Futami") in Ise Bay is celebrated for its two rocks called "Meoto Iwa" or Wedded Rocks. The two rocks, on the larger (9 m. high) of which stands a torii, are joined by a large sacred straw rope or shimenawa, which is replaced every year before the New Year with great ceremony (on a Saturday right in the middle of December; it is also replaced on May 5 and September 5). People pray to the rising sun between the two rocks for a happy year on New Year's Day. Under very favorable conditions occasionally a glimpse can be caught of Mt Fuji.

A shimenawa is a rope made of twisted rice straw used to demarcate a sacred space or object. Individual loose stalks of straw hang from the rope in places, and ritual paper streamers called shide may also be draped from the rope. Shimenawa is usually written as 締縄 in the sense of a rope that restricts or marks something, but 七五三[縄] ("7-5-3"), thought to be based on the number of straw sections used to braid the rope, is another way of writing the word - as in the present poem. (So the pronunciation of 七五三 here is "shime", and not "shichigosan"!)

According to Toshiharu Oseko (Basho's Haiku, Vol. 2), this was the hokku of a kasen party with 9 poets in Fukagawa in December 1688. They probably saw a picture of the Wedded Rocks of Futami. As one normally would worship the rising sun on New Year's Day, Basho realizes a comical effect by replacing that with "the sacred rope of Futami at the end of the year."

(2) Basho

do not doubt it:
the blossoms of the tide

also show spring upon the Bay!

utagau na | ushio no hana mo | Ura no haru

うたがふな潮の花も浦の春

Another haiku about Futamigaura in Ise Bay, written on the same occasion as the previous one. The preface to this poem reads "Looking respectfully at the picture of Futami." Basho plays with the fact that the white crests of the waves look like blossoms (a conventional conceit). For shortness sake, Futamigaura is now only called "Ura," the Bay. Haru, spring, also has the association of the New Year (as in Japan the New Year started on the first day of spring). So this is another humerous haiku: it is not yet New Year, but the spray of the waves looks so much like spring blossoms, that one could imagine it was New Year already.

[Kadomatsu in the style of the Edo period]

(3) Basho

the New Year's pine decoration
makes me feel that thirty years went by
like a dream of one night

kadomatsu ya | omoeba ichiya | sanjunen

門松やおもへば一夜三十年

The "New Year's pine decoration" is the kadomatsu, set up at both sides of the entrance. Branches from a pine tree are used (together with bamboo) because the pine is evergreen and a symbol of longevity. Also see Haiku No 7 below.

Basho wrote this haiku in 1677, when he was 34 years old. This was the year that Basho finally became a professional haikai master. Basho takes stock of his life so far and he is not satisfied: he had not yet done any significant work, and his life of over 30 years must have looked as meaningless as a dream of one night - he must work harder from now on!

(4) Buson

 
at New Year
looking smug
the haikai master

saitan wo | shitarigao naru | haikaishi

歳旦をしたり顔なる俳諧師

"Saitan 歳旦," the word with which this haiku by Buson starts, means "New Year's Day." "Saitansai," for example, refers to the Shinto ceremonies held on New Year's Day, and "saitanbiraki" is a celebratory haikai meeting held at the New Year. Such a meeting is what Buson's poem is about: the haikai master has a smug (triumphant) face because he thinks he has just written a great New Year's poem. One imagines a pompous and self-satisfied person (the implication of what the poem calls a "shitarigao," "smug face") surrounded by younger visitors paying courtesy calls.

 

[Zoni from Kyoto made with white miso paste]

(5) Buson

eating three bowls
of zoni at New Year -
like a millionaire!

sanwan no | zoni kayuruya | chojaburi

三椀の雑煮かゆるや長者ぶり

"Zoni" refers to the soup containing rice cakes (mochi) which is traditionally served at New Year. It is eaten in the morning after a toast with toso, the spicy New year's sake. There are many regional variations, but the rice cake is the determining part. The name "zoni" itself also indicates that miscellaneous items of food (such as mochi, vegetables and seafood) have been boiled together. (See my article about zoni at this blog.)

"Kayuru" in the second line is the same as "kaeru," in the sense of "okawari," another helping of a dish. In the Edo-period, zoni was an expensive dish for the common people, and to eat three bowls of zoni one after another was beyond all imagination - truly the behavior of a very rich person!

[Seven Happiness Toso from Daishichi Sake Brewery]

(6) Issa

pouring New Year's sake
with straw sandals on
break of day

toso kumu mo | waraji nagara no | yoake kana

とそ酌もわらじながらの夜明哉

"Toso", with which this haiku opens, is spiced medicinal sake traditionally drunk during Japanese New Year celebrations to pray for a healthy and happy year and a long life without illness. It is a fixed part of New Year's osechi cuisine in Japan. (See my article about toso at this blog.)

I wonder what "with straw sandals on" exactly means. As people don't wear shoes or sandals or any footwear inside the house, it means Issa is standing outside. Is he there to greet the sun on this first day of the year? Or is he preparing to go on Hatsumode, the New Year's shrine visit?

[Kadomatsu]

(7) Shiki

a mountain retreat -
at the house where no one calls
New Year's decorations

okuyama ya | hito konu ie no | kadokazari

奥山や人こぬ家の門かざり

"Kadokazari" is the same as "kadomatsu," the traditional Japanese New Year decorations, which are usually placed in pairs in front of the entrance to homes. Designs for kadomatsu vary depending on the region but are typically made of pine and bamboo, representing longevity and steadfastness,

I think Shiki wants to stress the importance of the New Year festivities here (as important as Christmas in Western culture): even at a dwelling deep in the mountains, kadomatsu have been used to decorate the entrance, although normally speaking no one can be expected to visit such a difficult-to-reach place.

[Girls in kimono playing karuta (c. 1900)]

(8) Kyoshi

playing poem cards
they are all so beautiful
in their resolve to win

karuta toru | mina utsukushiku | makemajiku

歌留多とる皆美しく負けまじく

"Karuta" refers to a game played with cards containing the poems of the Hyakunin Isshu, "One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each" anthology. The game is still widely played today, especially at New Year. The poems themselves (with an image of the poet) are printed on yomifuda (reading cards) and the last two lines (the lower phrases of each 7 syllables) on torifuda ("grabbing cards"). The reading cards are shuffled and then read out one by one by a reader (who doesn't take part in the game). The torifuda are placed on the tatami around the players, and these grab them as quickly as possible as soon as the first part of the poem is read out. Winner is who has taken the most cards. As all players have the poems memorized, it is more a match of agility and speed (the torifuda are swept up with a shooting movement) than of poetic knowledge. See the introduction to my translation of the Hyakunin Isshu at this blog for more information.

At New Year, the players of the Karuta game - usually women - wear gorgeous kimono. Kyoshi observes that in the heat of the game, furiously grabbing poem cards and determined not to be outdone, the players look even more beautiful.

(9) Kyoshi

last year and this year
linked by something
like a stick

kozokotoshi | tsuranuku bo no | gotoki mono

去年今年貫く棒のごときもの

There has been some discussion about what Kyoshi is saying here. I think he means that calendar years are just artificial constructs - the start of a new year may bring some psychological refreshment, but for the rest nothing changes and everything goes on as before, "as if a stick were running through it."

(10) Santoka

the crow at New Year's

caw-caw

oshogatsu no karasu kaa-kaa

お正月の鴉かあかあ

The meaning of this very simple haiku in free form is not immediately clear. Is the crow greeting the new year with his cawing? Are even ugly scavenger birds happy at New Year? Or is it more in line with the previous haiku by Kyoshi and is Santoka saying that, although a new year has started, nothing has really changed and the crows are still cawing as before in the old year? I agree with that last interpretation.

[Karasu, by
Maruyama Okyo]

[Translations are my own]

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