on the border: haiku

In Heeding Haiku, Chèvrefeuille asks us to write one poem inspired by the following three by Basho. The first is believed to be the last one that he wrote before he died:

falling sick on a journey
my dream goes wandering
over a field of dried grass

lying down
with quilts over the head
such a cold night

a rainy day
the autumn world
of a border town

© Matsuo Basho (1644-1694) (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

:

falling sick I dream

a meadow feathered with snow

dark ravens calling

:

©️2018 Ontheland

Renga with Basho Hineri #8

This 8th episode of Carpe Diem’s Renga with Basho features six of Basho’s haiku, as translated by Jane Reichhold, including one that was unfinished—I have completed the first haiku by adding a third line. Basho’s writings are shown in boldface type and my additions are in regular type (hopefully the Reader does not alter this).

~

missing a wife

putting on bamboo grass

I step out the door

:

into the blazing sunlight

a dusty road before me

:

above all else

a dependable chinquapin tree stands

in a summer grove

:

shade welcomes wanderers

a place of rest for weary feet

:

path of the sun

the hollyhock leans into

early summer rain

:

another cool blessing

I lower my grateful head

:

each with its own light

fireflies in the trees

lodge in flowers

:

no darkness this summer night

my way well-lit from above

:

a dragonfly

unable to settle

on the grass

:

wherever I am is home

until the wind calls my name

:

an early winter shower

a rice paddy with new stubble

darkens just a bit

:

this bamboo hat keeps me dry

as winter wind nips my cheeks

~

©️Matsuo Basho haiku shown in boldface type (taken from Basho, The Complete Haiku by Jane Reichhold)

©️2018 Ontheland

Renga with Basho #7

It’s time for another Renga with Basho. For this challenge the haiku offered by Chevrefeuille, our Carpe Diem host, are translations by Robert Hass. The bold three-line stanzas are by Basho, renowned  Japanese poet (1644-1694), and the italicized two-line stanzas are mine.

:

by the old temple

peach blossoms;

a man treading rice

.

golden manna from the storehouse

each grain a nourishing pearl

.

all the day long

yet not long enough for the skylark

singing, singing

.

old farmers toil and hum

whispering paddies rustle

.

the shallows

a crane’s thighs splashed

in cool waves

.

an evening in the rice fields

quiet moments bathed in peace

.

the dragonfly

can’t quite land

on that blade of grass

.

we shall spread a blanket

under the shady willow 

.

I’m a wanderer

so let that be my name

the first winter rain

.

when peach leaves are falling

my staff will be by my side

:

Thank you to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai for this challenge.  As mentioned above, the bolded stanzas are by Matsuo Basho, as translated by Robert Hass, and the two-line italicized stanzas were written by me.

that jump

sound of the old pond

arc of flight ends with a plop

in the flower bed

:

©️2018 Ontheland

My noticing the telltale plop and the words of my poem are attributable to the classic haiku by Basho as translated by Jane Reichhold:

old pond

a frog jumps into

the sound of water

©️Basho

Renga with Basho

In this special edition of Carpe Diem’s Renga with Basho series Chèvrefeuille asks us to commence with a greeting verse (‘hokku’) actually used by Basho to commence a Renga Party. The other verses by Basho were written as stand alone haiku. As usual I have bolded Basho’s haiku (translated by Jane Reichhold) and italicized my two-line responses.

:

autumn coolness

each peeling with our hands

melons and eggplant

:

last embers of summer

lodge under our fingernails

:

swinging bridge

lives are intertwined

in ivy vines

:

the trellis has been transformed

brimming with succulent fruits

:

with young leaves

I would like to wipe away

the tears in your eyes

:

a blur of joy and sadness

ushers in each season

:

blossoms at their peak

the mountain the same as always

at day break

:

a mist of whitening dew

blades of grass sparkle at sunrise

:

a clear night

cooling myself under cherry trees

waves of flowers

:

I peel my eyes to glimpse

a shooting star flash the night sea

:

©️2018 Ontheland (bolded haiku are authored by Basho as translated by Jane Reichhold).

Renga with Basho #6

:

:

The Basho haiku for this Carpe Diem Renga challenge are translated by Robert Hass. The two-line responses in italics are mine. A true exchange of stanzas would be done in real time. This challenge is an opportunity to appreciate the haiku of a master and to practice writing two-line 7 syllable responses (I use the syllable count as a guide but don’t force my responses to comply).

:

cedar umbrellas, off

to Mount Yoshimo for

the cherry blossoms

©️Basho

:

our favourite rite of spring

don’t forget the wine glasses

:

midfield,

attached to nothing,

the skylark singing

©️Basho

:

crescent moon lingering to

enjoy a dawn serenade

:

with every gust of wind,

the butterfly changes its place

on the willow

©️Basho

:

bamboo chimes clack and sway

a lullaby in rustling leaves

:

the dragonfly

can’t quite land

on that blade of grass

©️Basho

:

dewdrops shimmer and scatter

sunbeams bounce in beryl green

:

when the winter chrysanthemums go,

there’s nothing to write about

but radishes

©️Basho

:

pink like mountain hanami

flowers tint my winter dreams

:

©️2018 Ontheland

Hanami is the Japanese custom of blossom viewing.

Pink radishes courtesy of Pixabay.com