Roses

red and white rose with dew

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

Hydrangeas

Ajisai, Hydrangeas
Edo,
May of Genroku 7, 1694

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.

Wildflowers

yellow flower and yellow beetle

Random flowers along the way:

The Dao …

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

Chrysanthemum DAy

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.

菊の香や, original image from the Library of Congress

Jasmine

The smell of jasmine

So distinctly sweet,

To man and moth, one wonders?

Naxos, Greece

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.

The Face of God

February 1688, Genroku 1
Mount Yamato Katsuragi
, Nara Prefecture
Basho, Age 44

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.

The Face of God, Kami no Kao

God’s Face

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 yukuni (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

Hydrangeas

Ajisai, 紫陽草

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) doki no (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).

Attributed to Ogata Kōrin, 18th c., detail, from Metropolitan Museum

Morning-glories


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)

More morning-glories.

The Fragrant Plum

Ume ga ka

The plum (ume 寒) and its fragrance (ume ga ka 寒さか) was a familiar subject for Matsuo Basho, one he wrote about no less than eleven times. Spring’s beauty is fleeting, the plum blossoms briefly, it’s smell prolonged by the cold, or does the coldness recall the smell? I wonder.

I wonder, is the fragrance of the plum
brought back
by the coldness

Ah, the fragrant plum!
Brought back 
By cold weather

梅が香に 追いもどさるる 寒さかな

ume ga ka ni oi modosa ruru samusa kana

Matsuo Basho, Spring, 1684-1694

April 2023

Here in Middle America, we are halfway through April. It rained last night, it’s cold.

Notes on Translation

ume (plum) ga (indicating the thing, the plum) ka (fragrant) ni (exclamatory marker) oi (recalls) modosa (and returns) ruru (continuously) samu (cold) sa (suffix indicating the state of being cold) kana (I wonder)

Old Plum, Kano Sansetsu Japanese, 1646
right two panels of four, The Met

, rig