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# / Author
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I
Hugh Bygott
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The moon in hiding —
dreaming out of loneliness,
I hear the wild sea.
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| On February 18, 2004 Hugh Bygott and Zhanna P. Rader started a series of non-linked haiku on subject of the sea and its harbours. |
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II
Zhanna P. Rader
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Sea oats
swaying in the wind —
loud cries of gulls.
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III
Hugh Bygott
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Misted in the dawn,
the distant harbour colours
merge with harbour shapes.
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IV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Calm bay waters —
a little rocky island hidden
under cormorants.
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V
Hugh Bygott
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Sea-fire clouds fading —
these mysteries of the mind
etch'd by autumn light.
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VI
Zhanna P. Rader
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No people around —
flocks of sandpipers probe
the tidal pools.
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VII
Hugh Bygott
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The restless sea —
I watch the ancient stars,
the moon and I alone.
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VIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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A beach walk —
in the dried-out puddles
dead medusas.
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IX
Hugh Bygott
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Dawn solitude:
Spring light enters the Coral Sea —
another floating world.
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X
Zhanna P. Rader
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Churning waves —
pelicans dive-bomb
into the water.
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XI
Hugh Bygott
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As I scan the sky,
the dawn moon conceal'd in mists
slips into the sea.
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XII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Ebbing tide —
an elderly bicycles
in the warm wind.
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XIII
Hugh Bygott
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Still the rusting steel —
plovers cry in the summer dusk,
searching the tidal edge.
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XIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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From a crow's beak
a crab falls on a rock —
its heart still beating.
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XV
Hugh Bygott
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This black winter sea —
the throbbing of the engines
breaks the night's silence.
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XVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Waves rock the boat —
I climb a rope ladder
to get to the ship
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XVII
Hugh Bygott
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The crescent moon
seems to be tangled in the ship's ropes —
calm after the storm.
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XVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Rainbow at the pier —
an off-shore breeze
caresses my skin.
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XIX
Hugh Bygott
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Distant horizon —
cool sea-water splashes my legs:
sadness at day's end.
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XX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Heavy rain —
the sky and the sea
become one.
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XXI
Hugh Bygott
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The sea birds buffeted;
storms rage over the summer sea —
I awake from dreams.
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XXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Darkened beach —
the copper moon
the shape of a smile.
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XXIII
Hugh Bygott
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The western sky —
wild geese fleck the crimson light
and pass beyond the sea.
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| The kigo here is spring as the wild geese are departing to cooler climates to breed during the summer. |
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XXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Sand under my feet —
I catch
a tern's feather.
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XXV
Hugh Bygott
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Headland cemetery:
once we walk'd the ebb-tide sand —
now, her absent footprints.
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XXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Dusk —
the little green island
melts into the sea.
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XXVII
Hugh Bygott
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Mirror'd in the sea,
following me as I go —
the autumn moon.
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XXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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A night swim —
glimmering phosphorescence
coats my skin.
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XXIX
Hugh Bygott
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Figures from the sea
becoming clearer through the mist —
dawn swimmers return.
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XXX
Zhanna P. Rader
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The otter rests
draped in strands of kelp —
small fish schools.
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XXXI
Hugh Bygott
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Uncoiling her wet hair,
she descries an ocean liner
merging with the sun.
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| Indian Ocean sunset from Cottesloe Beach, Perth, Western Australia |
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XXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Dolphins!
The poetess writes three
short lines in the sand.
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XXXIII
Hugh Bygott
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Silver autumn sea,
dolphins play in the moonlight —
silence of the nets.
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XXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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A whale's fluke
tosses water up —
the memory of it.
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XXXV
Hugh Bygott
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A wild winter's night —
the ocean waves prolong
their crashing.
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| An extraordinary natural rock tunnel through which Pacific Ocean waves flow and then rise vertically at a point on the southern New South Wales Coast at Kiama. Sadly, erosion has weakened this spectacular display of an intermittent water jet. |
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XXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Winter sea whiteness —
a mushroom-shaped iceberg
frozen in place...
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XXXVII
Hugh Bygott
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Caught in winter wild-winds
the clipper veers to the cape —
a white speck on the coast.
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| A clipper was a fast sailing-ship with many sails. They were used extensively in the tea trade. Watching a clipper in full sail must have been a beautiful sight. The "white speck" could have been the sails. However, my intention was the speck of light from the light-house. |
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XXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Stretches of sea ice —
a polar bear motionless
at the seals' breathing hole...
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XXXIX
Hugh Bygott
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Night shadows passing;
icebergs enter the Arctic dawn —
still water's silence.
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| The kigo is an integral part of a haiku. They are rarely a single syllable. In English they may be four or more syllables, for example, Basho's "summer grasses." (In Basho's text, this phrase is in kanji and I believe corresponds to three sounds. ) In my haiku, I am using 5 syllables, in fact the first line is the kigo, perhaps unsuccessfully. The six months of light is becoming more definite. |
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XL
Zhanna P Rader
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Arctic glaciers —
the Aurora begins
its evening dance.
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| When I read the Latin "Aurora" I immediately think of the Greek "Eos", goddess of the dawn, and Homer's line, "the rosy-fingered dawn". However, you are right in stressing evening for the electromagentic phenomenon of the aurora. Finally, you juxtapose the steady glaciers with the dance of the light. A good haiku points beyond itself and creates new meaning possibilities. This is what you have done. You have packed a lot into 16 syllables, and you have minimised immediate images. |
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XLI
Hugh Bygott
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Summer sea at twilight;
I wait for the Milky Way —
the Crux is my guide.
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XLII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Quiet pier —
the Milky Way spills
into the sea.
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XLIII
Hugh Bygott
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Coolness of the night;
her tears the first of many —
his ship puts to sea.
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XLIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Misty dawn
with no ripples on the sea —
our wake the only sound...
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XLV
Hugh Bygott
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Listening to the sea,
alone I face the long night —
winds, rising, rising.
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| Zhanna, you will always find a verb in any haiku that I compose. The corresponding sentence contains the principal proposition. From the peripheral phrase it is then possible to generate one or more new propositions. "winds" = I hear the sound of winds at the shore, inland or over the sea. "rising" = The presence of the winds is more noticeable. The second "rising" brings in a note of fear. = I am becoming anxious. You are quite right in respect to prose composition. It is remarkable that I have placed five punctuation marks in 18 syllables. In my haiku poetics, punctuation makes meaning precise. |
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XLVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Heavy weather —
the ship's cook struggles amongst
his pans to stay upright.
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XLVII
Hugh Bygott
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Unrelenting sea —
a lonely gull rides the Spring waves,
the harbour lights fading.
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XLVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Hurricane —
the rig drags the towing boat
behind itself.
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XLIX
Hugh Bygott
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Blackening storm clouds —
white sanderlings still chase
receding Winter waves.
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L
Zhanna P. Rader
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Homes perched
on an eroded cliff —
the roaring sea.
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