Wednesday, June 24, 2026

daibutsu no hana kara detaru tsubame kana

This is another one by Issa. 

The verb form is deru, 出る, and the verb form here, xxx, is a combination of the stem with the classical verb suffix taru (たる). I've translated it as "has emerged" since that seems like the best way to express the quality of the action here, although I am not 100% sure.

Great Buddha:
from his nose has emerged
a swallow!

大仏の鼻から出たる乙鳥哉
daibutsu no hana kara detaru tsubame kana

daibutsu no
    Great Buddha!
hana kara detaru
    from his nose emerges
tsubame kana
    a swallow! oh!

大仏 daibutsu ~ great statue of Buddha.
の no
hana ~ nose.
から kara ~ from.
出たる detaru ~ emerge.
乙鳥 tsubame ~ barn swallow.
哉 kana 
And look what I found online!



Friday, June 19, 2026

omokage ya oba hitori naku tsuki-no tomo

This is a haiku by Basho. Basho composed this on his 1688 journey to what is now Nagano Prefecture, which is the location of a Mount Obasute, also known as Mount Sarashina, connected to the legend of old-woman-abandonment: Ubasute. That is this woman, alone, and with the moon as her only companion, and Basho imagines himself watching the moon with her somehow. There is a Noh drama on this subject, and see Yoshitoshi's painting below.

The compound omo-kage, usually means a trace or vestige, a memory, a "face-shadow," although it can also mean "face." I saw one version which translated this as "apparition," rather than face. There are some wonderful comments here: Sarashinayama, Kamurikiyama. Reading those comments convinced me that we cannot just say "face" in English as if there were not more going on here; there is a lot going on! So, I was more free in this translation than usual.

The verb is naku, なく, a godan verb.

her face a shadow:
old woman weeping alone,
moon's friend

俤や姥ひとりなく月の友
omokage ya oba hitori naku tsuki-no tomo

omokage ya
    face-shadow!
oba hitori naku
    the old woman, alone, weeps
tsuki-no tomo
    moon's friend

omo kage ~ face-shadow
や ya
oba ~ old woman.
ひとり hitori ~ alone.
なく naku ~ weep, sob.
tsuki ~ moon.
の no
tomo ~ friend.


(You can see the man carrying his mother up to the mountain,
and there's the moon!)

Because I am struggling with this translation, here are some more:

her face--
an old woman weeping alone
moon as companion
(translator: David Barnhill)

her face!
an old woman weeping
moon her companion
(translator's name unknown)

A frail shadow
The old mother cries alone
Friend of the moon
(translator's name unknown)

Now I see her face,
the old woman, abandoned,
the moon her only companion
(translator: "rei fú")

Mount Obasute
the image shows
an old woman weeping alone
my friend the moon
(Jane Reichhold)

In imagination,
An old woman and I
Sat together in tears
Admiring the moon. 
(translator's name unknown)

In my dream, an old woman and I sat together,
tears streaming down our faces,
admiring the moon .
(translator's name unknown)




Thursday, June 18, 2026

kagebо̄shi ware ni tonari shi kawazu kana

This is another Issa poem, and is a great example of how he sees himself (literally himself, his shadow!) with the animals. 

This is not the easiest to translate in a way that imitates the Japanese. It's hard to get the frog into the last line in English the way the frog just "hops" in there at the end.

shadows:
there's mine, and next to me...
shadow frog.

影ぼふし我にとなりし蛙哉
kagebо̄shi ware ni tonari shi kawazu kana

kagebо̄shi
    shadow
ware ni tonari shi
    mine next to its
kawazu kana
    frog!

kage ~ shadow.
ぼふし hо̄shi (bо̄shi) ~ (bonze).
ware ~ I, me
に ni
となり tonari ~ next to.
し shi
kawazu ~ frog.
哉 kana



Tuesday, June 16, 2026

natsugusa ya tsuwamonodomo ga yume no ato

This is my first poem to add from Basho, and it is a very famous one. It is from his prose-poetry collection, Narrow Road to the Deep North. Here is a lovely description from a blog post by David Bowles: "At one point he visits the ruins of the former strongholds and castles of the Fujiwara clan, wiped out centuries ago. The fields upon which warriors died defending their masters have become wild expanses of green, overrunning the glories of the past till hardly a trace can be seen."

There is no verb.

summer grass!
the warriors —
remains of their dreams


夏草や兵どもがゆめの跡
natsugusa ya tsuwamono-domo ga yume no ato

natsugusa ya
    summer grass!
tsuwamono-domo ga
    the warriors —
yume no ato
    remains of their dreams

natsu ~ summer.
kusa (gusa) ~ grass.
や ya
tsuwamono ~ warrior.
ども tomo (domo) ~ (group).
が ga
ゆめ yume ~ dream.
ato ~ traces, remains.

Friday, June 12, 2026

katatsuburi soro-soro nobore fuji no yama

This is one of my favorite haiku by Issa.

The word for snail, katatsuburi, is a compound: kata, "hard," and tsuburi, “small, round thing." The modern pronunciation is katatsumuri.

The verb today is noboru のぼる, another godan verb; this time it is the imperative form: nobore, 登れ.

snail! climb
Mount Fuji
slowly... slowly...

かたつぶりそろそろ登れ富士の山
katatsuburi soro-soro nobore fuji no yama

katatsuburi
    snail!
soro-soro nobore
    slowly... slowly... climb
fuji no yama
    Mount Fuji

かたつぶり katatsuburi ~ snail.
そろそろ soro-soro ~ slowly.
登れ nobore ~ climb.
富士 fuji ~ Fuji.
の no
yama ~ mountain.

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

о̄-edo ya inu mo aritsuku hatsu-gatsuo

This is a haiku by Issa. David Lanoue reports that he originally wrote it with 大家, ō-ie, "great house," as the opening phrase, but later changed it to 大江戸, о̄-edo, "great Edo" (modern Tokyo). It is a summer haiku, because summer is the season of the first bonito, the hatsu-gatsuo. 

I also found a hatsu-gatsuo senryu, which has a proverbial quality (as senryu sometimes do!): 女房を質に入れても初鰹, nyōbō wo shichi ni iretemo hatsu-gatsuo “even if I have to pawn my wife, I must have a taste of the season’s first catch!”

The verb is a godan (type 1, u verb): ありつく, aritsuku, "get, obtain, secure." 

great city of Edo!
even your dogs get a taste
summer's first tuna

大江戸や犬もありつくはつ松魚
о̄-edo ya inu mo aritsuku hatsu-gatsuo

о̄-edo ya
    great Edo, ya!
inu mo aritsuku
    the dog even obtains
hatsu gatsuo
    first-bonito (of the season)

о̄ ~ big, large.
や ya
江戸 Edo ~ Edo.
inu ~ dog.
も mo
ありつく aritsuku ~ get, obtain.
はつ hatsu ~ first, initial.
松魚 gatsuo (katsuo) ~ skipjack tuna.


"Bonito fishing, Tosa Province" ~ Utagawa Hiroshige, 1877


Monday, June 8, 2026

ganjitsu ya jо̄jо̄kichi no asagi-zora

This is a special New Year's haiku (New Year is the "fifth season" in the seasons of haiku), but as a big fan of blue sky, I feel this way anytime I see a beautiful blue sky. There is some complication/confusion with the kanji 浅黄 and 浅葱, but the pronunciation あさぎ, asagi, is the one that means a light blue with a greenish tint. And... no verb!

The author again is Issa.

New Year!
very best luck:
pale blue sky

元日や上々吉の浅黄空
ganjitsu ya jо̄jо̄kichi no asagi-zora

ganjitsu ya
    New Year's Day!
jо̄jо̄kichi
    very best luck:
asagi-zora
    the blue sky

元日 ganjitsu ~ New Day; New Year's Day.
や ya
上々 jо̄jо̄ ~ top top.
kichi ~ good luck.
の no
浅黄 asagi ~ blue, pale blue.
sora (zora) ~ sky.


Thursday, June 4, 2026

utsukushi ya shо̄ji no ana no ama no gawa

For language learners like me, these no-verb haiku are useful! And this one is just so elegant: look at the の...の...の... which is just impossible to do in English. There's also nice sound play with ana and ama. I might translate it this way (and yes, I added a verb in English!):

so beautiful!
hole in the shoji —
river in the sky.

うつくしやしようじの穴の天の川
utsukushi ya shо̄ji no ana no ama no gawa

utsukushi ya
    beautiful ya!
shо̄ji no ana no
    screen's hole's
ama no gawa
    sky's river

うつくし utsukushi ~ beautiful, beloved. also; utsukushii, うつくしい.
や ya
しようじ shо̄ji ~ shoji
の no
ana ~ hole
の no
ama ~ sky
の no
kawa (gawa) ~ river
天の川 ama-no-gawa ~ Milky Way