Winter’s not over. Not yet. But somewhere the crocus are blooming and the snow has gathered on the leaves of the daffodil and the narcissus, bending them down. Someone once told me that is how one knows Spring is soon coming.
初雪や 水仙の葉のたわ むまで Hatsuyuki ya suisen no ha no tawa mu made
First snow, last snow, let me know — with AI, is anybody thinking for one’s self? My English rendering of Matsuo Basho’s haiku that keeps the figurative meaning if not literally so.
first snow, new year— just enough so its bending the daffodil leaves
— Matsuo Basho, 1686
Yes,, it is true that in Japanese, the word 水仙 (すいせん, suisen) can mean both daffodil and narcissus. I confess, I too am not sure of the difference and whether it matters.
Specifically, the 山吹き yamabuki, a yellow flowering rose shrub that grows in thickets on a mountain slopes.
Matsuo Basho’s rose haiku (three versions) on a yellow rose written one year before his death. This is one of those times one says, “You had to be there.” One can not feel the mist on one’s face, see the petals lying scattered in the grass on the ground, or hear the roar of the waterfall. One can’t compete with Mother Nature.
Petals falling and scattering From a yellow rose To the noise of a waterfall
Yellow petals of a rose tumbling to the thunder of a waterfall
Petal by petal A Yellow Rose is falling To the sound of the waterfall
ほろほろと 山吹ちるか 瀧の音 Horo horo to yamabuki chiru ka taki no oto Matsuo Basho, 1693
Red Roses
Juliet says, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Of course one is aware that a haiku takes a particular form of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, whose goal is to evoke an image of the natural world that transcends a purely objective view. This does not prevent us from looking at other forms of literature as variations on the haiku. Here, for example is a truncated version of Victor Hugo’s poem, La tomb dit a la rose, a conversation between the grave and a rose.
The Grave says to the Rose The grave to the rose: – Why cry at dawn Flower of love? . The rose to the grave: What do you do with what falls Into this bottomless abyss? . The rose: Dark crypt, These tears are shed in the shadows A perfume of amber and honey. . The grave: Wistful flower, Each soul I take I make — a heavenly angel! — Victor Hugo, Poems, XXXI, 1888
Before he left Edo for the last time, Matsuo Basho’s disciple Shisan (子珊) gave him a going-away party.
紫陽草や薮を小庭の別座敷 ajisai ya yabu o koniwa no betsu zashiki
among the bushes and hydrangea — a little garden off the tatami room — Matsuo Basho, May, 1694
Ajisai
“Say it with flowers.” An advertising slogan by florists
Asked by the host to begin the festivities with a haiku, Basho wrote about hydrangea. In Japanese culture, the pretty blue, white, and pink flower is associated with the emotions of gratitude and apology. An emperor, the story goes, gave a blue hydrangeas to the family of the girl he loved as an apology for neglecting her and show how much he really cared for her.
After the party Matsuo Bashō left Edo for the last time, spending time in Ueno, the town where he was born, and Kyoto, where he had been a student, before heading to Osaka. In November, surrounded by friends and disciples, he passed away.
Matsuo Basho’s remains were then interred at the Gichū-ji a Buddhist temple in Ōtsu on the southern shore of Lake Biwa. Just to the north of Lake Biwa is quiet Lake Yogo which features thousands of hydrangea bushes.
Ajisai (hydrangea) ya . yabu (bush) o koniwa (small, little) no . betsu (extra, separate) zashiki (tatami room)
Zashiki (座敷) a tatami room, akin to a sitting room, a parlor, with woven tatami mats made of rush grass.
the more I look the more I see the face of God in a flower 猶みたし 花に明行 神の顔 nao mitashi hana ni ake yuku kami no kao — Matsuo Basho
Do flowers speak, I wonder …
where wildflowers grow man’s soul is fed and poets grow — Henry David Thoreau
Love like wildflowers is found in unlikely places — Ralph Waldo Emerson
Love need not be a a daisy or a rose …
Love is a flower you’ve got to let grow — John Lennon
Walking in the woods, spotting a tiny blue violet, under a log amid brown leaves …
the tiniest blue violet Nature’s answer to just a single mystery
A deeper, darker thought …
I wonder … As we gaze at flowers are we walking on the roof of hell 世の中は地獄の上の花見哉 yo no naka wa jigoku no ue no hanami kana — Kobayashi Issa 小林 一茶 (1763-1828)
A sad thought, I wonder …
after they have fallen will I remember a peony’s petals as a flower ちりて後 おもかげにたつ ぼたんかな chirite nochi omokage ni tatsu botan kana — Yosa no Buson 与謝 蕪村 (1716-1784)
the mundane and the last word …
Along the roadside my horse has eaten a hibiscus 道のべの木槿は馬にくはれけり michi no be no mukuge wa uma ni kuware keri — Matsuo Basho
October 9, 1694, from Oi Nikki, the Backpack Diaries, Near the End
The scent of chrysanthemums, In Nara, Ancient Buddhas 菊の香や奈良には古き仏たち kiku no kaya . Nara ni wa . furuki hotoketachi
Matsuo Basho, October 9, 1694
[kiku no kaya (the smell of chrysanthemums) . Nara ni wa (in Nara) . furuki hotoke tachi (ancient Buddhas)]
Nara was the 8th century capital of Japan. Today it is known as the home to the Todai-ji Temple and the statue of the Great Buddha (Daibutsu-sama).
In China, as well as Japan, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of autumn, flower of the ninth moon, symbol of longevity. Chrysanthemum throne is the name given to the Imperial throne and symbol of the emperor. Chrysanthemum Day is the ninth day of the ninth moon. A chrysanthemum petal placed in a glass of wine was thought to prolong life.
Matsuo Basho was nearing his end. He died in Osaka on November of 1694.
The Greek islands are dry and arid. But from Mykonos to Paris to Naxos the landscape became progressively greener. Although the islands are surrounded by the Aegean Sea, it rarely rains in Summer and Autumn.
It was in mid-October, only on Naxos, that the moths, the bees, and I came across the delicate Jasmine, whose Persian name, Yasmin, means Gift of God.
Far away, one hears the frightful call of all our war. One wonders.
February 1688, Genroku 1 Mount Yamato Katsuragi, Nara Prefecture Basho,Age44
In May, on Mount Katsuragi, cherry trees and azalea bushes blossom, pink and red to crimson hues to grace the landscape.
The face of God is graced with grace and flowers
猶みたし 花に明行 神の顔
nao mitashi hana ni ake yuku kami no kao
Matsuo Basho, Notes from My Backpack, Spring 1688
nao (grace) mitashi (fulfill or gratify) hana (flower) ni ake (bright, clear) yuku (likeness) kami no kao (kami, a Shinto God, kao face)
1688
In Japan, it was the beginning of the reign of Emperor Higashiyama.
Japan would not have heard the news, but in 1688 the English Parliament deposed King James VI and replaced him with his daughter Mary and her husband, William of Orange. This would later be called the Glorious Revolution.
Eight years living in a simple cottage in the Fukagawa District outside Edo, a trip now and then, and still, the wanderlust was there. So, in 1688, Basho returned to Ueno (his family home) for the Lunar New Year. As Spring began he returned to Nara prefecture where Saiygo had spent three years as a recluse. He stopped at Mount Yamato Katsuragi to visit the many Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples.
1st year of Genroku, Spring of 1688, Basho is 45 years old, Mt. Yamato Katsuragi
Always seeing within a flower at the break of dawn — the face of God
Matsuo Basho, Oi no kibumi, Spring 1685
From the travelogue, Oi no kobumi, a trip from Edo to Iga-Ueno (Basho’s hometown), then to Mt. Yamato Kasuragi in Nara prefecture. In Spring, Bashō came to Mt. Katsuragi to see the cherry blossoms. Near the Shinto shrine for the local god, Hitokotonushi, he wrote this haiku:
猶みたし 花に明行 神の顔
nao mitashi | always seeing within hana ni ake yuku | a flower at the break of dawn kami no kao | the face of God
Matsuo Basho, Oi no kibumi, Spring 1685
The ugly god
Hitokotonushi (一言主), literally, god of one word, meaning that as long as your prayer is short, god will listen to it.
There are several stories about Hitokotonushi-nokami, the god of Mt. Katsuragi. (Dr. Gabi Greve has collected many of them.) One is this: Hitokotonushi had a very ugly face. According to legend, a long time ago, a monk prayed for help, then began building a trail from Mt. Katsuragi to Mt. Kinpu (two Shinto holy sites). Hitokotonushi, embarrassed by his ugly appearance, would only help at night.
David Bowles calls Basho’s haiku “Longing for the Divine.”
And I could use Hitokotonushi’s help.
hana ni ake yuku (花に明行) has given me some trouble translating. First I would say that Goggle Translate gives one “Hana ni myōgyō” with no explanation of myōgyō. Literally, I come up with: hana (flower), but what of ni ake yuku — ni (within) ake (dawn) yuku. Does not 明に mean ‘brightly’? Or perfection? And does not 行くmean ‘going to a place.’
Seeing is believing, if not completely understanding, which is the first step in the “awakening”.
Like David Bowles I am longing for inspiration.
Sakai Hōitsu, Japanese ca. 1805 detail of image from The Met
It is August in the Midwest, my hydrangeas (ajisai) are spent, wilting in the afternoon sun, the colors fading, the once stunning and colorful flowers now withered and dry. Until the Edo Period, the Samurai saw this perennial flower as a symbol of immortality, but the changing colors and wilting flowers made them less favored. Matsuo Basho took up the hydrangea twice. The second time was in the summer of 1694, just before he made his very last trip.
hydrangeas — it’s time for summer clothes in pale blue 紫陽草や帷子時の薄浅黄 ajisai ya katabira-doki no usu asagi
Matsuo Basho, undated, Summer
ajisai (hydrangea) ya (exclamation) katabira (a thin kimono for mornings or summer wear) dokino (of) usu (thin) asagi (pale blue).
Note.Asagi-iro, 浅葱色 means pale blue. Basho uses the characters 薄浅黄, which Google Translate interprets as usu-asaki, ‘pale yellow.’ Not sure why the discrepancy exists.
hydrangea — a little thicket in my garden, another sitting room
紫陽草や薮を小庭の別座敷 ajisai ya yabu-o koniwa no betsu zashiki
Matsuo Basho, Edo, Fukagawa, Summer 1694
ajisai (hydrangeas) ya (exclamation) yabu-o (thicket, a homophone for one who dabbles in Zen meditation, used as the direct object in the haiku) koniwa (small garden) no (of) betsu (separate) zashiki (tatami room, sitting room)
The Summer of 1694
Basho left Edo and his simple cottage in Fukagawa for the last time in the summer of 1694.
In 1691, his nephew Toin joined him at the cottage, and it is likely Toin’s wife, Jutei and four children were there as well. This and the many guest who came to visit created the need for a detached sitting room (tatami).
Basho-an (Basho’s cottage) at Fukagwa, outside Edo, Summer, 1693
The morning-glories growing along the fence have made a chain that keeps guests out.
By the late summer of 1693, Matsuo Basho was feeling unwell and tired of guests. The morning-glories trailing along the fence must have looked like a chain to keep away guests. On this day, he must have been feeling better as he was willing to unlock the gate.
Morning-glories! Now that it is daytime, let down the chain That locks the gate at the fence.
朝顔や昼は鎖おろす門の垣 Asagao ya hiru wa jo orosu mon mo kaki
Matsuo Basho, Summer, 1693
Locked Out
Not being a native Japanese speaker, I struggle to get the sense of Basho’s meaning. But, as the poets says, to learn from the pine, be like the pine. One can put oneself in the place of the morning-glory, locking the guests out, or the guests, who on arriving at Basho’s cottage to visit, find that the tender blossoms and tendrils have locked them out.
Asagao, morning glories bloom from early summer to the first frost of fall. Besides its beauty, the flower buds serve as a laxative which might have helped Basho with his on-going stomach ailment.
Asagao ya (morning glories, followed by an exclamation) hiru (day, daytime) wa (topic marker for daytime) jo (chain, lock) orosu (take down, lower) mon mo kak (gate at the fence)
matsuo-basho-haiku 