Twenty-six items from Special Collections (i)

Exhibit 'I': Japanese. (Masaoka Shiki, thirty-seven haiku, 1892–1902)

Bibliography: Masaoka Shiki: Selected Poems, translated by Burton Watson (Columbia University Press, 1997). ¶ A few words from Watson's Introduction: "The first poet to compose hokku of true depth and artistic stature was Matsuo Bashō (1644–1694), who is regarded by many as the greatest haiku poet of all time. [ . . . ] Two other poets in the years following who wrote haiku of outstanding quality were Yosa Buson (1716–1783) and Kobayashi Issa (1763–1827). These three, along with Masaoka Shiki, make up the four masters of the form...."

Comment: I've written elsewhere about a luminous book, wonderful to share with people, called Bashō and His Interpreters (Stanford, 1991). One of the great merits of that book is it teaches you that the white space around any given haiku is alive, is crowded with activity.
   It's like watching baseball. The person who doesn't know anything except the rules of the game can only see the plays. But the person who knows all the people's names and the statistics and the general history of the teams can perceive a great deal of drama, comedy, satyr play—even when nothing is actually transpiring on the field. The simple act of switching pitchers can make a well-informed person explode.
   Like many USA poets, I am a great admirer of Robert Haas's The Essential Haiku (Ecco, 1994), which focuses on the "big three": Bashō, Buson, Issa. I believe most people in my milieu prefer Issa. I don't know if they would admit it.
   Anyway I had never heard of Shiki, 'til I bought the book pictured above, eleven years ago, trusting, as always, to Burton Watson's good taste. It appears from his Introduction that he came to Shiki somewhat late himself. He did some translations for the anthology From the Country of Eight Islands (University of Washington, 1981), found himself thoroughly charmed, fifteen years passed, and voilà. Watson was around seventy-two when Masaoka Shiki: Selected Poems came out. He'll be ninety-one in June.


 

1892 SUMMER
1.
From the firefly
in my hands,
cold light


1892 AUTUMN
2.
Singing somewhere
back of the shoe closet—
a katydid


1892 WINTER
3.
Winter winds—
the creaky noise the kettle makes
hanging from its hook


1892 WINTER
4. 
Rustling softly
over the bamboo—
snow in the night


1893 WINTER
5.
Lonely sound—
simmering in the firepit,
wood chips with snow on them


1893 SPRING
6.
Deserted temple
where the bell's been stolen—
cherries just opening


1893 SUMMER
7.  At an Inn
Sudden downpour—
and all these maids
hauling out storm shutters


1893 AUTUMN
8.
Scarecrow—
his back to you
any way you look at him


1894 WINTER
9.  Looking at a Picture of Basho
I here by the stove,
you off on
your wanderings


1895 SPRING
10.
Picture of the Buddha
entering nirvana—
one person is laughing!*
___________
* Pictures of the Buddha "entering nirvana" (i.e., on his deathbed) typically show him lying on his side surrounded by monks, gods, animals, birds, and other beings—all weeping and lamenting inconsolably.


1895 SPRING
11.
One penny 
and you get to ring the temple bell—
noonday haze


1895 SUMMER
12.
Hedges blooming
with rose of sharon—
in the alley, a ladder seller


1895 AUTUMN
13.  Stopping at the Teashop at Horyu-ji Temple
I eat a persimmon
and a bell starts booming—
Horyu-ji


1895 AUTUMN
14.
Autumn passes—
for me no gods
no buddhas


1895 AUTUMN
15.
Ripening in fields
that once were the samurai quarter—
autumn eggplant


1895 AUTUMN
16.  Taking Leave of Soseki
For me, who go,
for you who stay behind—
two autumns


1895 WINTER
17.
Getting lazy—
taking my socks off
after I get in bed


1895 WINTER
18.
Year-end housecleaning—
gods and buddhas
sitting out on the grass


1896 SPRING
19.
Spilling its pink
in the spring breeze—
tooth powder


1896 SUMMER
20.
Country road—
boys whacking at a snake,
barley-harvest time


1896 SUMMER
21.
Amid a jumble of 
tanka books, haiku books—
noonday nap


1896 AUTUMN
22.
Lightning flash—
in the bottom of the basin,
water someone forgot to throw out


1896 AUTUMN
23.
Garden ten paces long—
no corner
where fall winds don't blow


1896 AUTUMN
24.
Morning fog—
one man's got a fire going—
construction workers' shed


1896 AUTUMN
25.
The little knife—
sharpening pencils with it,
peeling pears


1896 WINTER
26.
Old garden—
in the moonlight, dumping out
water from a hot water bottle


1897 SUMMER
27.
Airing books—
today I'll do
the haiku collections


1897 AUTUMN
28.  Working All Day and into the Night to Clear Out My Haiku Box
I checked
three thousand haiku
on two persimmons


1897 AUTUMN
29.  After I'm Dead
Tell them 
I was a persimmon eater
who liked haiku


1897 AUTUMN
30.
This year
I took sick with the peonies,
got up with the chrysanthemums


1897 WINTER
31.  Sent to Hekigoto, who is in the hospital with smallpox*
Cold, I bet—
itchy, I bet—
and wishing for company too
____________
* Kawahigashi Hekigoto (1873–1937) was one of Shiki's closest friends and followers.


1898 WINTER
32.
Talking to myself,
hugging a hot water bottle
gone tepid


1898 WINTER
33.
Gusts of winter wind—
pine needles strewn
all over the outdoor Noh stage


1899 SUMMER
34.
In the creek,
reed blinds shielding it—
a melon we're chilling


1899 AUTUMN
35.
Persimmons strung up to dry,
in front of the shed
back of the bath


1899 WINTER
36.
A stray cat
is shitting
in my winter garden


1902 SUMMER
37.
Sketching from life—
eggplants are harder to do
than pumpkins