haiku

These are my modern English translations of haiku about plum blossoms, plums and plum trees. In Japanese poetry the plum ("ume") is associated with the beginning of spring and good fortune; plum trees were often planted facing northeast to ward off bad luck. Plum blossoms are widely loved and appreciated by the Japanese people; they symbolize refinement, purity, nobility and the remembrance of love.

Picking autumn plums
my wrinkled hands
once again grow fragrant
― Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fukuda Chiyo-ni (1703-1775), also known as Kaga no Chiyo, was a Japanese poet, painter and calligrapher of the Edo period. She began writing haiku at age seven and by age seventeen was popular throughout Japan. At age 52 she became a Buddhist nun, shaved her head, adopted the name Soen (“Escape”), and took up residence in a temple.

Ah butterfly,
what dreams do you ply
with your beautiful wings?
—Chiyo-ni, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

These are modern English translations of haiku and other poems by Eihei Dogen Kigen, translated by Michael R. Burch. Eihei Dogen Kigen (1200-1253) was a Japanese Buddhist monk, priest, poet and philosopher who founded the Soto school of Zen. 

This world?
Moonlit dew
flicked from a crane’s bill.
—Eihei Dogen Kigen (1200-1253), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

These are my modern English translations of Takaha Shugyo haiku and tanka...

hatogata horarete ichiju haya mebuku

A single tree
with a heart carved into its trunk
blossoms prematurely
—Takaha Shugyo, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

dôkefuku nugazu tentômushi no shi yo

Still clad in its clown's costume—
the dead ladybird.
—Takaha Shugyo, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

ochitsubaki ware naraba kyuryu e otsu

These are modern English translations of haiku written by Oriental masters of the form like Basho, Buson, Issa, Seishi, Shiki, Shugyo and Sugita. There are also translations of ancient waka and tanka, with strong resemblances to haiku. 

Grasses wilt:
the braking locomotive
grinds to a halt
—Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

These are original haiku written by Michael R. Burch, many of them under the influence of the Oriental masters of the form.

Dark-bosomed clouds
pregnant with heavy thunder ...
the water breaks
—Michael R. Burch

***

Silver
by Michael R. Burch

These are insect haiku requested by Emma Burleigh for publication in her upcoming book Earth Color ...

While a cicada
sings softly
a single leaf falls ...
—Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In their haiku the Oriental masters of the form frequently used dew as a metaphor for the transience of life. Some of these poets have used dew metaphorically in a jisei (a type of death poem sometimes called a “zen death poem”) … but then I discovered to my surprise that I had used dew in similar ways quite frequently in my own poetry …

This world?
Moonlit dew
flicked from a crane’s bill.
— Eihei Dogen Kigen, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch 

wet
with the dew
of a heavy rain—
the scent of ozone
lingering still
 
          *
 
a bird cries
somewhere in a nest—
her shattered child
 
          *
 
the gate has opened—
I walk through
looking for salvation
 
          *
 
these are the souls
who wander
the desolate streets—
I search their eyes
they do not see
 
          *
 
in the street
after a heavy rain—
a moment of heat
 
          *
 

the lost art
of statues and colonnades
sketched in time
 
         Ꚛ
 
stars slumber
as the sea water
that rings my feet
 
         Ꚛ
 
light mixed in shade
between the leaves
that line my feet
 
         Ꚛ
 
centuries old
as leaves whisper
on New England stone
 
         Ꚛ
 
another day
she wanders on
without a name