The opening verse of the anthology Sarumino 猿蓑, Monkey’s Raincoat (1691).
初しぐれ猿も小蓑をほしげ也 hatsu shigure saru mo komino o hoshige nari
the first winter rain — the monkeys shiver and shake, wanting straw raincoats. — Matsuo Basho, Sarumino 猿蓑, Winter (November?) 1691
Late November
Here I sit, late in November, looking out the window at the falling leaves blowing in the cold wind. I am preparing for Thanksgiving knowing the weather will turn cold. How cold, the monkeys will know as they shake and shiver in the first freezing rain of the season …
Late in November. How late? Matsuo Basho died on November 28, 1694.
初しぐれ hatsu shigure means the first cold shower, the first winter rain of the season, most likely November.
Here no hair, There no hair, Hair today, Gone tomorrow — Basho no Yona, Summer, 2024
Matsuo Basho gave us a more enduring image of a woman cooking dumplings while managing a loose strand of hair.
Holding a dumpling in one hand, she tucks her hair behind her ear
.
Holding a dumpling in one hand, The other hand, brushing back A lock of her hair
粽ゆう . 片手にはさむ . 額髪 Chimaki yuu . katate ni hasamu . hitaigami –Matsuo Basho, May 5, 1691
Chimaki (rice dumpling) yuu (in the act of making) katate (with one hand) ni (in) hasamu (holding) hitaigami (hair on the forehead)
Where is Basho?
A man’s got to eat.
Chimaki, steamed dumplings, wrapped with leaves of bamboo, banana, etc., made of glutinous (sticky) rice and various fillers.
How do you like your dumplings? Add a filler of meat or vegetables, and sprinkle with a special sauce.
From spring to summer in 1690, Bashō was living in quiet retirement at a place called Genju-an (the Phantom Dwelling). It had been an abandoned hut beside Lake Biwa. What better place for one tired of travel, tired of guests, growing weary of the world.
Basho speaks:
“Ten years ago, I gave up city life, now I’m approaching fifty, like a bagworm without its bag, a snail without its shell. (On my recent travels,) the hot sun of Kisakata in Ou tanned and scorched my face. I’ve bruised my heels on the rough beaches of the northern sea where tall dunes make walking so hard. And now this year, I am drifting here by the waves, on the shores of Lake Biwa.”
A skylark singing, in the midst of its song, a pheasant squawking! . A skylark singing, to the sound of a pheasant drumming along
雲雀鳴く中の拍子や雉子の声 Hibari naku / Naka no hyōshi ya / Kiji no koe — Matsuo Basho, Spring, 1690 or 1691
Hibari naku (the skylark sings) Naka no hyōshi ya (in the middle of the song!) Kiji no koe (a pheasant calls)
Two interpretations are possible (or more). In both of them the skylark is whistling its sweet tune. In version one, the pheasant interrupts with its harsh squawk. In version two, the pheasant is beating its wings in rhythm to the skylark’s tune. Version two is harmonious. Version one is more lifelike, considering friends get along, but friends like to argue. In the middle of a quiet conversation, someone shouts out.
By 1690, Basho was getting tired of friends.
It is unclear as to whether this haiku was written in 1690 or 1691.
It is beginning to snow. How delightful, unless you are a young monk, out on the road, standing in the snow, begging for a coat. It was the fourth year of the Genroku (1691-92), Basho was returning to Edo, saddened, I suspect, for he was not feeling well. Basho was 47 turning 48, and it was beginning to snow.
It is beginning to snow and the saintly young monk is the color of his wooden backpack
初雪や . 聖小僧が . 笈の色 Hatsu-yuki ya . Hijiri-kozo ga . Oi no iro — Matsuo Basho, Winter 1691-92
The Backpack Color White or red. Two theories on the backpack color. One, the backpack was white from the snow, and the monk was getting pale. Two, the backpack was red (as I have seen online) and the monk’s face was red from the bitter cold.
Kōya Hijiri (高野聖), young monks from Mount Kōya, south of Osaka, who were sent out to preach Buddhism with nothing more than a wooden backpack and bowl to beg for food.
man on horseback in snow, Hiroshige, source Wikipedia
The 4th year of Genroku, 1691, Hikone, on Lake Biwa
For me, it is late in October. I am heading east, driving alone, rushing to get home for Halloween after a trip to Bend, Oregon with my family. Returning home to Wichita, a long five-day trip through eastern Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, and western Kansas.
For Matsuo Basho, in 1691 (the 4th year of Genroku), it was late in September (or possibly the first of October). Heading east, heading home, stopping at the Meishoji Temple in Hikone, on the eastern shore of Lake Biwa. There he spoke with the head priest, Kono Riyu, in the temple garden. During Kono’s lifetime, he was known as Four Plum Trees because there were four colorful plum trees in the temple garden.
Tears of adoration — falling leaves, in Autumn colors . 尊がる涙や染めて散る紅葉 Tōto garu namida ya somete chiru kōyō
The spectacular show of color in Fall is brief. By late October in Bend most of the Aspen leaves have fallen and turned brown. By the time, I am high in the mountains, returning home, the Aspen trees are stripped bare of leaves.
falling leaves in Autumn colors, now brown on the ground, late in October . the leaves now fallen, the Aspen trees, stand bare and naked — Bashō no yōna, October, 2024
Kono Riku 河野 李由 (Kōno Riyukari, 1662-1705), the 14th head priest of the Hikone Myosho-ji Temple. (source Japanese Wikipedia). In the summer of 1691, Kono Riyu visited Basho in Kyoto at Rakushisha, the Hut of the Fallen Persimmon, where Basho worked on the Saga Diary (嵯峨日記, Saga Nikki).
Bashō no yōna is the pen name of the author of this blog. It roughly translates as Basho Wanabe (want to be), or not quite.
On Translation
Tōto garu namida, is it — “precious tears, tears of respect or tears of adoration.” One imagines that Basho was impressed not only by the sight of the beautiful fall colors, but also quite happy in seeing a dear friend. Kono was some twenty years younger. He was reportedly a disciple of Basho’s. It is said that after Basho’s death in 1694, Kono was given one of Basho’s hats as a memento.
After the rain, little Japanese umbrellas, everywhere, planted in my garden.
After completing his epic journey into Japan’s northern interior (1689), Matsuo Basho spent several years visiting old friends in Kyoto where he spent his youth, and in and around Lake Biwa for some solitude like his mentor Saiygo, and in Ueno, the place of his birth. This was the last period of his life.
Matsutake mushrooms, ah, clinging precariously to a tree
松茸や . 知らぬ 木の葉の . へばり付く matsutake ya . shiranu konoha no . hebaritsuku
Matsuo Basho, Fall 1691
Basho returned to Edo as winter came on. It was a melancholy time as his nephew who he would care for was ill.
Matsutake mushrooms favor pine trees. They are known for their thick, fibrous white flesh and earthy, spicy flavor and aroma. Matsu松 meaning pine. Basho’s surname Matsu 松尾, a pine tree at the base of the mountain. In Japan, the pine tree symbolizes many things including longevity, steadfastness, and renewal.
Parasol Mushrooms, in contrast, love the grass and the garden where mulch abounds. I’ve seen them as far south as Dallas, Texas on walks through the woods, and in Kansas in my yard and garden. Always, after it rains.
Bashō no yōna (the author of this blog) lost an oak tree a month ago. What remains is the mulch. Perhaps that is why, after it rains, tiny umbrella like mushrooms have peppered my lawn for over a month. The Latin name is Parasola plicatilis. Popular names include: Pleated Inky Cap, Parasol, and Little Japanese Umbrellas.
After it rains, Sprouting up all over, ooh! Little Japanese umbrellas
— Bashō no yōna, Summer 2024
Sprouting up all over, ooh! Little Japanese umbrellas
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