Yuki tokete

雪とけて/くりくりしたる/月夜かな
(小林一茶 1763-1828)

yuki tokete / kurikuri shitaru / tsukiyo kana
(Kobayashi Issa 1763-1828)

melting snow...
the big, round
moon!

This caused me a few problems at first with 'kurikuri' and 'shitaru' and 'tsukiyo'. I can't find anywhere that states this directly, but 'shitaru' seems to be the same as 'shiteiru', with circumstantial evidence from several translations of other haiku with 'shitaru' I discovered through Google. 'Kurikuri' means big and round (especially used for eyes) which would make sense with the moon, except 'tsukiyo' means 'moonlit night' rather than 'moon'. However, I think that Issa may well have used 'tsukiyo' rather than 'tsuki' to complete the final five syllables, as haiku at this time seemed to strictly follow the syllable rules.

Finally there is 'kana'. Yesterday's glossary suggests 'kana' is for emphasis, 'indicating an author's wonder at the object, scene or event,' but I don't find that entirely satisfactory, even with my limited knowledge of haiku. A second opinion describes it as 'a soft sigh (‘Ah!’)', which gets closer to what I think it must be. The next question is how to translate 'kana'. I'd say an ellipsis (...) or an exclamation mark is the best option. In this case I have chosen an exclamation mark.

Alternate searches:

'kuri kuri shitaru'

Na no hana ya

菜の花や/月は東に/日は西に
(与謝蕪村 1716-1784)

na no hana ya / tsuki ha higashi ni / hi ha nishi ni
(Yosa Buson 1716-1784)

rapeseed flowers
the moon in the east
the sun in the west

I enjoy the simplicity of this poem, and while one part of me thinks this kind of simplicity could only be achieved successfully in the early days of the haiku form, another part says that it's a sign of a great poet to discover a new way of saying something simply. The balance of the moon in the east and the sun in the west is extraordinarily evocative, both in the image and the phrasing. Of course, I'm probably missing something here, as a famous haiku like this might have a deeper meaning. Something to do with the approach of night and death perhaps.

I discovered an interesting site * discussing teaching this poem to (Japanese) children, with a lot of focus on the colours. I enjoy this kind of thing, partly because it's written in simple Japanese, and partly because it's interesting to see something of how haiku fit into Japanese education. There was also some talk of the kireji (切れ字) or cutting word. These cutting words (for example, 'ya', 'kana') can make the exact meaning of a haiku difficult to grasp sometimes, but there is a useful glossary here.

* View - (character encoding: Japanese (Shift_JIS))

Alternate searches:
'tsuki wa higashi ni' 'hi wa nishi ni'

Harusame ya

春雨や/降るとも知らず/牛の目に
(小西来山 1654-1716)

harusame ya / furu to mo shirazu / ushi no me ni
(Konishi Raizan 1654-1716)

spring rain
falling unnoticed
in the cow’s eyes


By contrast with the first haiku, this poem appears to be somewhat obscure. Konishi Raizan doesn't even merit a place in the Japanese version of Wikipedia, and unless there is something seriously wrong with my searching, the actual haiku only appears three times on the net in Japanese. The second line has caused me some problems for translation. On a Japanese forum that includes this poem, the poster notes in passing that the kind of light rain (霧雨) in the poem can be seen in the Jiangnan area of China. This would imply the rain is so light that it might not be noticed.

I'm not sure who doesn't know (shirazu) or doesn't notice in the haiku, whether the cow or an observer, so I have sidestepped this question. There is also the regular problem, when translating from Japanese, of whether the cow or the eyes are singular or plural. I enjoy the version I have arrived at, finding it faintly comic, without being fully convinced that I have understood the haiku correctly. Perhaps I will return to this post if I gain a fuller understanding.

Me ni ha aoba

目には青葉/山時鳥/初鰹
(山口素堂 1642-1716)

me ni ha aoba / yama hototogisu / hatsugatsuo
(Yamaguchi Sodo 1642-1716)

new leaves for the eyes
a mountain cuckoo…
the first bonito…

I'm certain this is a famous haiku in Japan, but translations on the internet are hard to find. The poem conjures up spring for all the senses, though taste and hearing are only indirectly invoked. The cuckoo, or hototogisu, regularly appears in Japanese poetry, so it is much to my shame that I cannot see one in my mind's eye. If you wish to see one go here and scroll down; you will also find much else of interest. The bonito, or katsuo (which has here become gatsuo), is a rather tasty fish.

Having announced my intentions to fill in gaps, I must admit that there are translations available for this poem, even if I could not find them immediately. If you google 'me ni wa aoba' you will find alternate translations. Even if writing 'wa' for 'は' strikes me as somehow inelegant it may be my own prejudice. So I will include alternate possible searches at the bottom of each post. Please ignore.

'me ni wa aoba' 'hatsu gatsuo'

The Purpose of this Blog

Perhaps it is a little grand to describe it as a purpose. The aim of this blog is to fill in the gaps for Japanese poetry on the internet. It will include poems I have tried to find translations for without success, or those that seemed to be difficult to find. I will myself attempt to translate the poems, though acknowledging my shortcomings as I go along, and provide what commentary I can.

Should other googlers be interested in the same poems as me, please do leave comments. The poems are taken from 小さな詩歌集 (chiisa na shikashuu), a current A-Level recommended book, though I regret I'm far too old to be taking my A-Levels! If you wish to correct me about anything, do please be courteous.