Download Haiku (by Sue Littleton)

The following lecture, originally in Spanish, was accepted by the
Japanese Cultural Center in Buenos Aires in a competition for foreign exponents
of Japanese culture. When I presented my lecture, the Center provided me
with fascinating literature on haiku to improve what finally was the grand finale
of the various presentations. Note: “haiku” is both singular and plural.
JAPANESE HAIKU AS A POETIC INSPIRATION IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Sue Littleton
The haiku is a Japanese poetic form which, created in other languages
according to the original criteria established by the Japanese, consists of 17
syllables in three lines of 5, 7 and 5 syllables each. Also, haiku in another
language should not have a title, capital letters, punctuation, metaphor, or
rhyme; the first two lines are linked and the third stands alone. As the Japanese
language has no articles, I am convinced that the poet should try to avoid
articles. (It is too easy to find another syllable for a line by adding an article that
contributes nothing to the haiku!)
The form expresses fullness and suggests more with the fewest number of
words. In fact, it is the shortest form of poetry in literature. It earned this
distinction in the 17th century when Basho raised it to a refined art.
The purpose of haiku is to suggest sentiments by way of natural images,
rather than expressing them in a direct way. Since 1905 many Western poets
have been particularly interested in writing haiku. “Imagism” is the name of the
poetic movement that flourished in the United States and England between
1909 and 1917 in opposition to Romanticism. It was led by the American poet
Ezra Pound and later by Amy Lowell.
The imagists, as followers of Imagism called themselves, were looking for a
new style of verse and an aesthetic that would justify it. They dedicated
themselves to writing free verse, i.e., the simplification of expression and the
elaboration of a style that could present precise impressions. For poets of other
languages, the haiku was the perfect answer to achieving the objectivity,
colloquial language and fullness of free verse, as suggested by the imagists.
Ezra Pound was probably the most well known of the imagists. One of his
most famous short verses (which would be impossible to understand without the
title), is very similar to well-known Japanese haikus.
“In a Station of the Metro”
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
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Compare this with the following translation of an exquisite haiku by the great
master Moritake:
fallen flower returns to bough
a butterfly
Generally, the rule of 5-7-5, no title, no rhyme, etc., has been suspended
or ignored by many poets who call their short poems “haiku.” The fact that
these poets refer to their minimalist poems as “haiku” is, to a degree, the
definition the poet has elected and the corresponding acceptation by the
reader.
Professor Hasegawa says, “The 5-7-5 rhythm of haiku is not 17 syllables. It is
17 beats. Those 17 beats are like the beats of a heart in the Japanese language.
Given this, two things are apparent. First, a Japanese haiku of 17 beats is
acceptable, even if it doesn’t have 17 syllables. There are haiku with 5-5-7 and
7-5-5 beats. But if the rhythm is not followed because the poet thinks it is not
necessary, then the poem is not a haiku. Haiku is a disciplined poetry, and the
rhythm (the beats) are the life of poetry.”
I am inclined to agree with those Japanese who say that what has kept
the haiku poetically important in English has been the faithful adherence to the
5-7-5 rule. I refer to three line poems that break the syllable requirement
“minimalist poetry.” Jack Kerouac established, with copyright, his own idea of
haiku in English, which he styled “American Haiku.” He explained that English
was too different from Japanese to hold to the 5-7-5 form.
Here, for an example, I’d like to read four of my haiku that are not
included in my bilingual book Sueku/Suku. The Spanish translations, where
included, are simply minimalist poems.
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sybaritic cats
sprawl before electric fire
frost lace drapes window
Gatos sibarítas
se arrellanan frente a la estufa eléctrica.
En la ventana cuelgan cortinas de escarcho.
And now, a little humour:
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reed choked stagnant pond
lolls unloved ignored asleep
but wait frog heaven
La estancada laguna, llena de junquillos,
se duerme en el olvido y desamada.
Pero, para las ranas es el Cielo.
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ancient black tree trunks
hearts hollowed by passing years
cradle scrolled green ferns
Los ancianos troncos negros de los árboles.
sus corazones ahuecados por el pasaje de los años,
acunan las verdes volutas de los helechos.
“Haiku: Tributo Silencioso” “Haiku, a Silent Tribute,” published in Chile in
2008, has haiku from all the countries of Latin America, from Mexico to
Argentina, including Cuba. Here are two translations of these Spanish haiku by
the famous Argentine writer Jorge Luís Borges and another from a Cuban poet
that especially appealed to me:
Borges:
¿Es un imperio
esa luz que se apaga
o una luciérnaga?
Is this an empire
this light that flickers
or a firefly?
Elmys Antonia Restrepo, from Cuba:
En el estanque
el pez se sueña lirio y
bebe una estrella.
In the pond
the fish dreams itself a water lily and
drinks a star
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Almost none the haiku of this Chilean book follow the exact rules for haiku
in other languages, but I’ve noticed that even the strictest Spanish professors, or
“maestros” of haiku, allow their students to use punctuation and capital letters.
The verses have three lines, but not always the required number of syllables.
Personally, this is not the form I like to use when I write haiku, but I accept that
this is my choice and not an inflexible rule.
In the Japanese language there are more than a thousand code words,
or “kigo,” key words that have a special meaning for the Japanese. Originally,
a kigo was a word that belonged to a particular season, i.e., spring, summer, fall,
winter. As its use evolved, beginning in the 8th century, the list of kigo has
expanded to include many coded meanings. For example, the crow is a symbol
of melancholy and mourning; a flowering cherry tree is a symbol of spring; the
lotus, lilies and sunflowers represent summer, and a cricket is a symbol of fall.
Radishes, fallen leaves and the first snowfall symbolize winter.
Below is a haiku written on the death of my eighteen year old grandson from
Sudden Adult Death Syndrome:
slow rain without cease
dark crow huddles on dead branch
gutters run with tears
The insertion of a kigo in Japanese haiku comes from a wealth of
meanings that are impossible to understand in a language that doesn’t have
kigo, or that has relatively few symbolic words of this kind.
The great masters of the Japanese haiku can give themselves the luxury
of writing haiku with another syllabic map, but, for me, those of us who are
inspired by classic haiku must follow the 5-7-5 rule. It is obvious that after 500
years of haiku culture and more than 1,000 code words, or kigo, only the
Japanese can write and understand the elegant details of the haiku. This does
not change the fact that after seeing a translation of a haiku into their own
language, poets of other countries can experience profound inspiration, as did
the original imagists who read the haiku and took flight in free verse so many
years ago.
Traditionally, haiku, like other poetic compositions, has attempted to
describe natural phenomenon; the changes of the seasons, and the daily life of
people. Influenced greatly by philosophy and the aesthetics of Zen, its style is
characterized by nature, simplicity (and here I don’t mean to say “plain”),
subtlety, austerity, and the apparent symmetry that suggests freedom-- and with
this, eternity.
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“Haiku is simply what is happening in this place, in this moment.” (Matsuo
Basho 1644-1694)
I would like to make a comment here about the debate between various
poets and critics whether haiku are prose or if they are poetry. For some poets,
this saying by Basho could be the definition of prose, not poetry. I am inclined to
believe that the haiku, as Basho states, is poetry. The words have their music and
rhythm of the language and present images that open the mind and incite
emotions that come from these images. Federico Garcia Lorca said, “Poetry is
the union of two words that one never suspected could be put together and
that form something like a mystery.”
“The mission of the haiku is to produce a lively, but fleeting impression. To
take control of one instant or flicker at its climax in our heart and express it
immediately in a very brief and condensed way.” (Shisuo Kasai)
(Haiku remind me of those little balls of colored paper imported from
Japan when I was a child. When you dropped one of these balls into a glass of
water, it would expand into a tiny garden of exotic and extravagant flowers.)
The emphasis in haiku as symbolic representations of aspects of Buddhism
is very clear, and explains why haiku are so rooted in Japanese culture. This also
explains, in my opinion, why at times it is difficult for a Western writer to emulate
the profound religious depths of a haiku. We may be trying to express
philosophical ideas, but it is very difficult to incorporate Zen philosophy into our
efforts when we have never studied and lived Zen, as have the Japanese.
In “Tres Maestros”: “To suggest and approximate emotions is the most
adequate way to know this poetry that, even though it offers elements of reality,
develops them with great economy of description, which proposes an
incomplete vision that the reader continues to freely elaborate.”
It appears to me that all those poets who do not know Japanese can do
when we write our versions of haiku is to attempt to express an image of nature
that transmits an implied idea. This means following, where possible, the
traditional syllabic form that the Japanese haiku allows us in other languages.
The apparent simplicity of haiku, which at the same time hides great depth,
lends rigidity to the scheme, and, in addition, allows the presence of something
cohesive and pure.
On the other hand, composing haiku in Spanish is difficult for me, but at
the same time I consider that Spanish may be more loyal to the Japanese
model because of the number of syllables or beats in the words. English, with so
many descriptive one-syllable words, allows the poet to practically write a novel
in a haiku where Spanish forces the poet to look for words with much more
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certainty! Apparently, Spanish is more like Japanese in the imposed limitations
because of the number of syllables or beats in the language.
In a conference presented by the Centro Cultural de Japón, I met Noemi
Müller, a prize-winning poet from Buenos Aires who writes haiku in Spanish. Her
charming haiku are loyal to the rules most used in Spanish, meaning without
rhyme or titles and with three lines and 5-7-5 syllables, and not always with
punctuation.
Baldosa rota
en tus venas abiertas
brota un malvón.
Broken tile
in your open veins
a geranium sprouts
Oscureciendo
se desliza la noche
soltando tules
Dusk falls
night appears
wafting tulles
Gota de agua
buscando su camino
de no retorno.
drop of water
searching your road
of no return
Dejo mi huello
en el río de la vida.
¿Dejo mi huello..?
I leave my footprint
in the river of life.
Do I leave my footprint?
I have written the following haiku that alternate between the classic haiku
(5-7-5) in Spanish, the translation 5-7-5 in English, and again in Spanish, to explain
the problem of translations in general – and to illustrate why English gives so
much more scope to the poet than Spanish.
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First version in Spanish:
viento corre
hojas caídas brincan
niños jugando
Now, translated in English, loyal to the 5-7-5 syllables:
stray breeze skips and runs
joyfully scatters bright leaves
small children playing
If I were to faithfully translate the English version to Spanish, it would read
like this:
brisa vagabunda salta y corre
11 syllables
alegremente desparramando hojas llenas de colorido
ninos pequeños jugando
19 syllables
8 syllables –
for a grand total of 38 syllables!
The poet can only hope that the resulting translation of the verse will have
its own rhythm and appeal, as a minimalist poem rather than a traditional haiku.
As there are so many different ideas about what a haiku is, in my bilingual
book of haiku Sueku/Suku, I tried to avoid the issue by calling the verses in
English “sueku” with the “e” in my name, “Sue.” The Spanish minimalist poems
derived from the translation from English to Spanish I name “suku.
Keeping in mind that the haiku is rejected as poetry by some poets, I am
more and more convinced that indeed haiku are poetry, a unique poetry,
delicate and graceful, and that the expressed limits challenge the poet with a
discipline comparable to the sonnet, the villanelle, and other established forms.
I invite you all to the special and delightful world of haiku. I am sure that
any sensitive and creative person can become of poet of haiku. It is a wonderful
literary exercise for young people from elementary school and onwards.
To close:
farewell haiku muse
now the time has come for us to part
how sweet your visit
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Adíos, musa del haiku
Ahora tenemos que despedirnos.
Qué dulce fue su visita?
Sue Littleton
January 2014
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