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# / Author
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CI
Hugh Bygott
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These faint sounds at dusk
as mist settles on the autumn sea —
somewhere a sanderling.
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CII
Zhanna P Rader
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Low tide —
a man with his metal detector
finds something in the sand.
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CIII
Hugh Bygott
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Running to the dawn sea
she hears a squelch in the sand —
turtle eggs hatching.
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CIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Sea-side vacation —
the children make their sand pies,
then jump on them.
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CV
Hugh Bygott
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After the storm
the light streams through the cloud portals . . .
A phantom ship . . .
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CVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Ball of fire —
a ship aflame
lights up the sky.
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CVII
Hugh Bygott
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Images of flames;
now coral fish hide in its shadows . . .
The last kiss still lingers.
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| No haiku is ever truly independent. The greatest haiku ever written, Basho's "Summer Grasses", was a continuation of Tu Fu's poem. In poem CVII I have pushed the number of propositions to the limit, yet the poem is still incomplete. There is also a paradox: the death of a ship seems always to keep alive a love. HB |
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CVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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The coral-reef
labyrinths... their multicolored
carnival of life...
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CIX
Hugh Bygott
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Listening to the sea,
my thoughts race in the mind's labyrinth ...
The calm of dawn sleep.
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CX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Waves lap at the shore —
the new-born turtles emerging
from their nest.
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CXI
Hugh Bygott
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Spring light on the water . . .
With warriors' resolve, they wait in silence —
a burial at sea.
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CXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Coastal salt marsh...
A white egret and its reflection
touch beaks.
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CXIII
Hugh Bygott
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Sun's touch in the sea —
perhaps the Tanabata maid
will find love tonight?
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| The expression "Tanabata maid" has been used in Japanese waka since the Kokinshu (905 AD). In hokku, it is an autumn kigo (for example in Chiyo-ni, "the stars' meeting"). I have tried to relate to Zhanna's egret reflection with the inferred circle of a setting sun in the sea. In some earlier poetry, part of the poem had a surface meaning which was unrelated to the deeper meaning of the poem. I have tried, perhaps unsuccessfully, to use this technique here in haiku. In this poem I refer to Altair (the herdsman) being in love with Vega (the weaver). Once a year, on the seventh night of the seventh month the Milky Way permits the stars to meet. This is the occasion of the Japanese Tanabata Festival. I concede that I am a little out with my times. HB |
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CXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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A small ship
on its journey of discoveries —
the lure of the sea.
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CXV
Hugh Bygott
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Silent water,
the loneliness of the sea's moon —
Scylla is waiting.
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CXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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A hurricane
sweeps the Atlantic shores —
sound of destruction.
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CXVII
Hugh Bygott
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Whereabouts unknown —
after the storm, the sea laps the sea-wall —
a child's teddy bear.
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CXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Silky bed sheets —
memories of skinny-dipping
in the Black Sea.
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CXIX
Hugh Bygott
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The cool night lingers :
frogmen slip into the sea,
into the unknown dark.
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CXX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Snorkel-diving —
she fingers each
pretty pebble.
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CXXI
Hugh Bygott
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She sees the shadow . . .
It glides, darkly, silently,
a shark in summer seas.
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CXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Seashore camp —
waves gurgle
midst laughter.
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CXXIII
Hugh Bygott
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A hototogisu's cry
fades over the island's waves —
sadness of lost sounds.
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| In the waka tradition from the Kokinshu, the nightingale's cry is associated with some form of sadness. The 'sad nightingale' is also associated with Sophocles' Electra. HB |
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CXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Our ship
enters a grotto —
last look at the moon.
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CXXV
Hugh Bygott
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Straights of Awaji —
relief comes to the dawn moon-viewers;
drifting autumn clouds.
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CXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Deep-water "treasure chest" —
an unmanned sea robot
looks for new organisms.
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CXXVII
Hugh Bygott
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Deep-water darkness —
above in the moonlight
a cormorant works.
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CXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Beach-stranded whale
gets rescued — swims off
into the sunset.
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CXXIX
Hugh Bygott
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A peaceful setting sun,
yet a porpoise drowns in the deep net —
this conflict of purpose.
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CXXX
Zhanna P. Rader
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November beach —
only a white umbrella
sun-bathing...
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CXXXI
Hugh Bygott
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Winter sea birds —
Sounds enter the wind; a silent beach,
a new litany.
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CXXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Day's first light
reveals not a single white cap —
the game fish becomes shy.
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CXXXIII
Hugh Bygott
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Before the dawn ...
This long night the sea so still —
Silence enters my heart.
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| The classical Japanese poets had a specific understanding of each season. Basho particularly used this in his hokku. The spring dawn and the autumn dusk are well known in this tradition. While summer and winter were seasons less prevalent in the classical renga, they also had characteristics. The time before dawn in winter was thought to be both mysterious and beautiful. I have used this in the poem above, were the kigo "the long night" signifies winter. HB |
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CXXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Bermuda Triangle —
the airplane's equipment
goes haywire
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CXXXV
Hugh Bygott
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Spring light on the sea,
yet the deep is dark, unknown ...
Mysteries.
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Masaoka Shiki proposed the Theory of Shasei. Only what is immediately observable can be used in a haiku. In this extreme Realism both simile and metaphor are dismissed from haiku. It is not permissible to refer to anything which is not there. Fortunately, most of us, and Basho as well, do not worry about this theory. Indeed, Shiki himself moved away from the theory at the end of his life.
Here is a beautiful haiku by Basho:
Along this way
No travellers.
Dusk in autumn.
Translated and punctuated by Alex Kerr. Lost Japan. Melbourne, Australia: Lonely Planet Publishers, 1996. HB |
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CXXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Ocean floor —
giant tube worms cluster
around hot vents.
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CXXXVII
Hugh Bygott
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Fairy-tale summer light,
these golden ships ride the waves —
sunset after the storm.
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CXXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Snow geese
make their stopover —
the seashore's whiteness.
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CXXXIX
Hugh Bygott
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Wild geese over the sea —
even the cherry blossoms
are less than their longing.
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CXL
Zhanna P. Rader
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Cruise ship —
she scatters her husband's ashes
over the sea.
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CXLI
Hugh Bygott
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In this Spring dusk I know
that death has made us strangers —
not the sea, but Time.
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CXLII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Moonless night —
a marine police squad
ambushes the pirates.
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CXLIII
Hugh Bygott
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A misted Spring moon —
hand in hand we walk the ebb tide beach,
dare I believe his heart?
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| Zhanna, I have added a little moonlight ( bright moonlight would be an Autumn kigo and would clash with the ebb tide Spring kigo. You have used actual apprehension, I have used potential apprehension. As the two people walk, one might say: "I do not love you." Perhaps, then both become free. If one says: "I love you," then perhaps the clasping of hands is only the beginning. HB |
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CXLIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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A meteor explodes. . .
lights up the sea
with its fireworks
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CXLV
Hugh Bygott
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Flashes across the sea;
shapes merge in these autumn hours —
victors and vanquish'd.
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| Cape Trafalgar, October 21 1805 |
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CXLVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Tsunami —
new body bags
arrive.
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CXLVII
Hugh Bygott
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Death from the sea floor —
In this age of light, why, oh why,
do the innocents die?
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CXLVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Giant wave
snatches a village off the shore —
a man holds to a palm.
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CXLIX
Hugh Bygott
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Summer laughter,
then these bitter tears —
cruel Sea or cruel Man?
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CL
Zhanna P. Rader
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Underwater earthquake —
sunbathers and coast dwellers
claimed by the sea.
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