Gendai Haiku Translations
Hasegawa Kai and Tsubouchi Nenten in translation
Richard Gilbert and Itô Yûki (trans.)
May 31, 2007

Hasegawa Kai (長谷川 櫂 1954 - )
Personal selections from gendai haiku no kanshô 101 [An appreciation of 101 gendai haiku poets]
(Hasegawa Kai, ed., Tokyo: Shinshokan, 2001, pp. 208-09.)

春の水とは濡れてゐるみづのこと
はるのみずとはぬれているみずのこと
haru no mizu towa nurete iru mizu no koto

water of spring
as water wetted
   water, as is

Hasegawa comments.
Almost anything in this world can be wetted by water. However, the one thing that cannot be wetted in this way is water itself. Although water wets other things but cannot itself be wetted, I nonetheless intuit that the water of spring, uniquely, has a special quality in that it can be wetted — though it too is water.

冬深し柱の中の濤の音
ふゆふかしはしらのなかのなみのおと
fuyu fukashi hashira no naka no nami no oto

deep winter
   within the pillar
      the rushing of waves

Hasegawa comments.
Following my university graduation, I began to work as a newspaper reporter in Niigata city. Toward the southwest is the seaside town of Izumozaki, which is the location where Bashô stayed, on a journey he described in The Narrow Road to the Deep North (Oku no hoso michi); there, Bashô penned this haiku:

荒 海や佐渡によこたふ天の川
あらうみやさどによこたうあまのがわ
araumi ya sado ni yokotau amanogawa

the turbulent sea —
extending to sado isle
the milky way

In this place in the winter, strong north winds blow all day and enormous dark waves crash upon the seashore. At night, within the dwellings, each massive main pillar resounds due to the roaring sea, whose waves emanate sonically through the ground.

[Note: For some 1000 years or more Sado Island was an isolate place of exile for those who had been deposed, disgraced, or were considered a threat by those in power.]

夏の闇鶴を抱へてゆくごとく
なつのやみつるをかかえてゆくごとく
natsu no yami tsuru o kakaete yuku gotoku

summer dark
a red-crowned crane, cradled
as if on my way

日盛のこの世を過ぎて蝶消えし
ひざかりのこのよをすぎてちょうきえし
hizakari no kono yo o sugite chô kieshi

in this world
of blazing summer sun
a butterfly disappears

葉先より指に梳きとる蛍かな
はさきよりゆびにすきとるほたるかな
hasaki yori yubi ni sukitoru hotaru kana

from the vertex of a leaf
combed into fingers, firefly

竹刈って月の光に打たせあり
たけかってつきのひかりにうたせあり
take katte tsuki no hikari ni utase ari

 cutting bamboo       moon-light          striking

Tsubouchi Nenten (坪内稔典1944 - ) Selected Haiku from haiku nyûmon
[Introduction to Haiku], Sekai Shisoushya, Tokyo: 1998, and elsewhere.

春風に母死ぬ龍角散が散り
はるかぜにははしぬりゅうかくさんがちり
harukaze ni haha shinu ryûkakusan ga chiri

to the spring wind
mother dead, herbal medicine
scatters

水中の河馬が燃えます牡丹雪
すいちゅうのかばがもえますぼたんゆき
suichû no kaba ga moemasu botanyuki

a wallowing hippo
burns —
snowflakes

(1) botanyuki are large snowflakes or snowflake clusters, known also as ‘snow flowers.’ botan is a peony.

バッタとぶアジアの空のうすみどり
ばったとぶあじあのそらのうすみどり
batta tobu ajia no sora no usumidori

flying grasshopper asian sky a washed-out green

桜散るあなたも河馬になりなさい
さくらちるあなたもかばになりなさい
sakura chiru anata mo kaba ni narinasai

cherry blossoms fall —
you too must become
  a hippo

春を寝る破れかぶれのように河馬
はるをねるやぶれかぶれのようにかば
haru o neru yabure kabure no yô ni kaba

in the spring —
lying down desperate, as
a hippo

In these final two examples, elements of the original Japanese words are retained, in order to reveal qualities of language play, which are important to Tsubouchi’s haiku aesthetic. Unfortunately this type of stylism has stymied attempts at translation. A brief cultural note follows each haiku, giving an abbreviated explanation of the untranslated phrases.

三月の甘納豆のうふふふふ
さんがつのあまなっとうのうふふふふ
sangatsu no amanattô no ufufufufu

in march
amanatto:
u fu fu fu fu

(1) In Japan, March (san-gatsu) is the end of the business year, full of fresh energy, yet somewhat sad with the departure of the old and familiar. There is a saying in this regard: deai to wakare no kisetsu (the season of meetings and farewells).

(2) amanatto —  is a traditional Japanese confectionery, made of sweet, fermented azuki beans and sugar; the word-feeling of ‘sweet natto’ reminds of “natto,” a unique food, with a pungent aroma, which is a kind of “power food” or “soul food” (vitality-enhancing). 

(3) u fu fu fu fu — For us, this onomatopoeia creates an image of a group of older women eating the sweets together—in Japanese “ufufu” is a small laughing voice, made with a slightly opened mouth, that is, a kind of modest, small-voiced chuckle, and one imagines a hand placed at the level of the mouth, hiding it.

(4) The haiku also has a sense of personification: it seems as if amanatto itself is modestly chuckling, in a feminine manner. This haiku is among the most well-known of Tsucouchi Nenten, and is often cited.

たんぽぽのぽぽのあたりが火事ですよ
たんぽぽのぽぽのあたりがかじですよ
tanpopo no popo no atari ga kaji desuyo

    tanpopo no popo :
surrounding, burning!

(1) tanpopo is “dandelion.” The popo of tanpopo is a neologistic, onomatopoeic coinage. By utilizing popo, tanpopo, itself, not considered onomatopoeic, becomes so. Literally, the “popo” of “tanpopo” is on fire. In the pun, popo can represent the circumference of the flower, and/or the edge (latter half) of the word.

(2) desuyo is a dialogic part of speech which has the sense of a rallying cry, as if to say, “look at this!”, e.g., “Here is the place of the fire’s energy!” and also, ‘Emergency!’

(3) popo-popo-popo (etc.) is the sound of a steam locomotive; a locomotive engineer is known as a “popo-ya,” and “shushu popo” is a term children use for locomotive. The term poppo can be found in the 1603 Jesuit Japanese translation dictionary, as “the manner in which steam or fire rises.”