Tuesday Poem: Haiku — “Summer grasses” by Mattsu Basho
Ah! Summer grasses!
All that remains
Of the warriors’ dreams
.
by Matsuo Bassho 1644-1694
Translated by: R. H. Blyth, 1952
—
Mattsu Bassho is probably the most renowned of all the Japanese haiku masters, and RH Blyth’s is my preferred translation of this particular poem.
To learn more about the poet, Bassho, his life and work, click here: Mattsu Basho
To find out about the translator, click here: RH Blyth
Why this poem — because its “ages” since I’ve featured a haiku; I’m currently focusing on summer & summer related poems; and I like it: it packs a tremendous punch in those three spare lines. ‘Nuff said, I reckon!
I love Matsuo Bassho’s ‘Oku no Hosomichi’. I have a lovely illustrated copy in both Japanese and English.
When I lived in Japan, I was very close (10 minute drive) to Kisakata, the most northern part of Matsuo Bassho’s journey ‘to the interior’. He went out of his way specifically to see Kisakata. It’s now just a small fishing town of 12,000 people, but back then it was a famous lagoon filled with about 100 islands, and was often paired with another set of islands, Matsushima, on the other coast (where the tsunami hit the other year). Matsushima has a cheery air to it, while Kisakata had a mournful air. A large volcano, Mt. Chokai, looms over Kisakata, and its reflection would float peacefully in the lagoon. In the early 1800s (1807, I think?) an earthquake raised the land and the lagoon drained. You can still see the islands today, although now they are in a sea of rice. The temple in Kisakata still has a boat mooring post out the back that is no longer needed. For a few weeks a year, in May, when the rice paddies are flooded for planting, you can again see the reflection of Mt Chokai on the water and see how remarkable Kisakata once was.
In keeping with Kisakata’s mournful association, the haiku Matsuo Bassho wrote when he was there was:
Kisakata ya Ame ni Seishi ga Nebu-no-hana
Ah, Kisakata! In the rain the mimosa is as Seishi
(my own awkward translation)
Seishi was a young woman in a Chinese folk tale who came to a sad end.
I was thinking of this haiku yesterday evening as I saw all the mimosas, which are currently mid-bloom, bedraggled in the rain.
My other favourite haiku from ‘Oku no Hosomichi’ is the one you’ve quoted. (In Japanese: Natsu kusa ya Tsuwamono-domo ga Yume no ato). I never made it to Hiraizumi, where the haiku was written, despite it not being far from where I lived. I regret that now.
I found a few old blog posts of mine with pictures of what I was talking about above, if you’re interested:
The temple in Kisakata and the ‘high and dry’ islands:
http://catfordnz.blogspot.co.nz/2006/10/kanmanji-part-1.html
http://catfordnz.blogspot.co.nz/2006/10/kanmanji-part-2.html
The path Matsuo Bassho walked:
http://catfordnz.blogspot.co.nz/2007/05/misaki-park.html
Matsushima:
http://catfordnz.blogspot.co.nz/2007/08/matsushima.html
I am feeling very attached to small deep and beautiful poems at present so than you for this cameo and I shall come back and read all the info from Cat.L above.
Beautiful, thank you.
History and landscape in three lines; impressive.
Thankyou for posting this, you’ve absolutely made my day. I walked the Banks Peninsula track just after new year and have been thinking about the words of this haiku for a while since then. About two thirds of the way round the walk the track passes over a grassy spur between Sleepy and Otanerito Bays. According to the track booklet this was the site of Parakakariki Pa, which belonged to the Ngati Mamoe until it was overrun by the Ngai Tahu in a bloody battle during the 17th century. There’s nothing there now except dusty grass, a view of the bays, and a wooden signpost with this haiku painted on it.
I thought it was very appropriate, but I had no idea where it came from until you posted this. Thankyou.
Cheers, Helen loved the poem…and somehow I can just see those grasses burning…
Thank you, everyone, for commenting: I’m glad you’ve enjoyed this week’s TP offering.
Cat, I’d particularly like to thank you for your personal and indepth context for Bassho and this particular haiku. I love hearing about the islands.
Shona—am glad was able to give you context for what sounds like a very apt use of the haiku.