Don’t Drink and Ride

Random thoughts on snow and love, on drinking and driving, on crazy verse.

It’s Snowing!
Falling off a buckskin horse
(Please, don’t) drink and ride

雪や砂馬より落ちよ酒の酔
yuki ya suna uma yori ochiyo sake no yoi
Matsuo Basho, Oi no Kobumi, Winter 1687-8

yuki (snow) ya (exclamation, emphasis) suna (sand colored, chestnut) uma (horse) yori (than) ochiyo (falling down) sake no yoi (drunk on sake). Suna is sand colored, buckskin is a tan colored horse with a dark mane. One wonders, does it matter?

One wonders if thoughts are truly random. Even snowflakes falling take on a pattern. And thoughts of this and that lead on to other thoughts. Bashō no yōna was thinking of love, of snow, of snow falling down, and how he liked the twinkling Christmas lights all covered in white.

Matsuo Basho wrote about snow. He did not write about love. Why not, does it matter?

Matsuo Basho had many disciples, many friends. Ochi Etsujin 越智越人 was one. Etsujin lived in Nagoya, which was on the way to Ueno in Mie province, Basho’s birthplace. It is said, Etsujin was a handsome lad, and not much else. Perhaps he lived from 1655-1739, but no one knows for certain.

But does it matter?

In the winter of 1687-8, Matsuo journeyed from Edo to Nagoya, to Ueno, to Iga and the Grand Ise shrine, to Nara to Otsu. His friend Etsujin went with him. Basho had Kyoku on his mind and Saiygo. Kyoku (crazy verse) being a kind of humorous or ironic haiku without its strict conventions. Saiygo being a serious minded monk who often traveled and lived alone.

Picture this. It is early morning. The snow is gently falling. Each is riding a horse. Etsujin is on a Chestnut, a horse of sandy color. Etsujin is drunk on the sake they drank the night before and the lack of sleep, falling down.

It’s snowing,
Etsujin, better to just ride the horse,
Than fall down drunk

雪や . 砂 . 馬より落ちよ酒の酔

Etsujin wrote a haiku about cats in love or is it cats in heat, which has nothing to do with snow.

うらやまし . 思ひ切る時 . 猫の恋
Urayamashi (I am jealous of you) omoi-kiru (making up my mind) toki (time) neko no koi (the cat’s in heat)
I am so jealous of you, I’ve made up my mind, it must be time, the cat’s in heat.

Urayamashi could also mean “I wish I were like you.”

I wish I were like you,
But then there wouldn’t be two of us,
Just one

Now that’s kyoku-crazy.

If there is a lesson in all this, it is this: Be curious and try to laugh.

P.S. This post was written several days ago, but does it matter?

Summer Snow

On holy Mt Haguro, the wind speaks of scented snow.

Genroku 2, June 3, 1689 (July 19 by the solar calendar)
Age 45, Basho climbs Mt. Haguro at Dewa Sanzan
From Oku no Hosomichi

thank you,
for the sweet smell of snow
and the voice of the wind

有難や雪を薫らす風の音
arigata ya / yuki o kaorasu / kaze no oto
Matsuo Basho, Summer, 1689

French

merci,
pour la neige parfumée
et la douce voix du vent
Matsuo Basho, Summer, 1689

Traveling in the Cool Mountains

Well into their journey into Japan’s northern interior (Oku no Hosomichi), Matsuo Basho and Sora are, by now, conditioned travelers . Having come down the rapid Mogami River by boat, they meet Kondo Sakichi (haiku name “Rogan”), and he takes Basho and Sora up the cedar covered mountain to the temple of Haguro-san.

Later at a poetry recitation, Basho thanks his host for the excursion.

Notes on Translation. arigata (thank you) ya (exclamation “!”) yuki (snow) o (a particle indicating a sigh) kaorasu (scented, fragrant in a smoky way) kaze no oto (sound of the wind, voice of the wind)

Dewa Sanzan, 出羽三山, the “three (sacred) mountains of Dewa” in mountainous Yamagata Prefecture.

Bashō no yōna

In the western states of Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico the snow stays on the lower mountains well into June, and the 14ers are snow capped all year round. In Utah, one goes from Moab where it is a short drive to Arches National Park and Canyonland, then on to Bryce and Capito Reef, then down the Grand Staircase-Escalante to Zion. The Grand Canyon’s North Rim is closed until the middle of June because of snow. It is a long drive through arrid northern Arizona to the South Rim and the spectacular Grand Canyon.

Miles of Nothing
Until Something,
Spectacular!
— Grand Canyon’s South Rim
Bashō no yōna, late Spring, 2023

The melting snow formed the Grand Canyon over millions of years. One can also enjoy several Colorado waterfalls including misty Thunder Falls and its ever-present rainbow, and the hidden gem of Zapata Falls with its blue ice near the Great Sand Dunes.

Winter’s blanket
Melting snow and raging rivers
— Summer’s hot and cool
Bashō no yōna, late Spring, 2023

Christmas Haiku

Christmas Day, 2022

How do you write Japanese haiku on Christmas Day?

You layer up, wear a silly knit cap to amuse your daughter and son-in-law. They call you a “cone head” while guffawing. You put on thick mittens and add a scarf about your face. You leave.

Off you go to the park to face another day. There is beauty in the silence of the morning. Sunlight on snow, an icy breeze, the cold air you intake. There is something reassuring about another runner passing by. Something delightful about two kids trying to sled on hill that is not much more than a gully.

Sounds like fun
The crunch of snow on frozen leaves
— A Winter’s Run

Whoosh, whooosh,
Whoosh, whooosh, …
Footfalls in the snow

It Snowed last Night
The World is white,
This Christmas morning
Bashō no yōna, Christmas 2022

Merry Christmas!

Winter Sleet

At this moment, in the Winter of 2022, a snow storm is crossing much of the eastern United States from Boston to Norfolk. Here in the Midwest, the sky is spectacularly clear, China blue, but bitterly cold. While chattering birds look down from the trees above, scampering squirrels hunt for food in my garden.

Matsuo would ask, do birds and squirrels feel the cold, I wonder?

一時雨礫や降つて小石川　
hito shigure/ tsubute ya futte/ Koishikawa

at this moment, it is sleeting
and hailstones are falling all about,
at Koishikawa
Matsuo Basho, 延宝5年, the 5th year of the Enpo era, Edo, 1678-9

To which, Bashō no yōna says:

All about me, it’s sleeting
I’m freezing, only thinking
Fame is fleeting
Bashō no yōna, Wichita, January 2022

To which Matsuo replies:

So is life
Matsuo

**Morning after the Snow, Koishikawa, artist Katsushika Hokusai, 1830-2, The Met**

Edo, Winter, 1678-9

Matsuo had arrived in Edo, in 1675, seeking fame and fortune as a haiku master. He resided near Edo’s glitzy Nihonbashi District, a country boy in the big city which Edo was becoming. And he was variously employed, making ends meet, while honing his poetic skills. By the winter of 1678-9, he had achieved some recognition.

An admirer of Buddhism, Matsuo would be thinking, fame does not come to all, to those who are lucky, fame is fleeting, for we are only here for a short while — yi shi, 一時.

Fame was in the Future

Matsuo had not, however, taken on the pen-name Matsuo Basho. This would occur after 1680, when he moved to the Fukagawa District of Edo and lived in a simple cottage beside a banana tree given to him by a student. Not had Matsuo taken his journey to the northern interior, which would give him lasting fame in the posthumous publication of Oku no Hosomichi (奥の細道).

For was, now, simply living in the moment, yi shi, 一時.

Notes on Translation

Hito, 一時, Chinese, yi shi, meaning at this time, for the moment, not necessarily a concrete moment, a spiritual one; also a Buddhist term for a period in which one chants a sūtra.

Shigure, 雨, a freezing rain, drizzle, sleet, referring to the rainy season in late fall and early winter.

Futte, 降つて, falling about. Matsuo is also implying that he is about to experience a change of fortunes, either for good or bad.

Koishikawa, a place in Edo (Tokyo), a well known garden constructed in the early Edo period, possessing a view of Mt. Fuji. Koishikawa, meaning small river pebble. Basho’s haiku is a play on words with hail as the small pebble. It is also a Buddhist observation of the insignificance of one moment and one man in the eternity of time and space. Matsuo, at this time was engaged in work on an aqueduct, which may explain the connection with the construction of the garden.

A Japanese point of view of Matsuo Basho.

Twice Awake

Hiroshige, Meguro Drum Bridge and Sunset Hill, 1857

Two haiku, both probably written in the winter of 1686. Matsuo Basho was back in Edo for the spring and summer of 1686, staying in his retreat called Basho’an (banana hut). As the two haiku imply, he is into Zen Buddhism. Earlier in the year he wrote his most famous haiku about the frog, the pond, and the sound of water — “splash”.

瓶割るる/ 夜の氷の寝覚め哉
kame waruru/ yoru no koori no/ nezame kana

The bottle cracks
awakened at night
by the ice
Matsuo Basho, Basho-an, Edo, 貞亨３年冬, December, 1686

Note. As usual, Matsuo Basho kept a glass bottle of water by his bedside at night. Basho explains, “The night was cold and I woke to the cracking sound of a bottle. Koori means ice in both haiku. The ice probably broke the bottle.” Nezame means awakening. Yoru no Nezame (夜の寝覚) refers to a 11th century Japanese romance, and it is generally translated as “Wakefulness at Night”. If we take Basho at his word, “wakeful”, then he is not only feeling the cold, but hearing it as well.

油こほりともし火細き寝覚哉
abura koori/ tomoshibi hosoki/ nezame kana

oil is freezing
the light is dimming
awakening at night
Matsuo Basho, Basho-an, Winter, ca. 1686

Note. The two haiku could possibly be the same cold winter. Tomoshibi is an oil lamp. Rapeseed oil was the likely fuel source.

Merry Christmas

The author of this blog who goes by the pen name Bashō no yōna wishes you a Merry Christmas and offers this humble selection of Christmas haiku.

Kids know
Santa is Real
They sense his presents

Elves who work
Listen to music
— Wrap

A Christmas tree,
A Colorado beaver,
Nice Gnawing You!

Mexican sheep
Say, Merry Christmas,
“Fleece Navidad!”

Santa’s sleigh
Cost nothing
It’s on the house!

A serene sentiment …

A Withering Winter
Of Snow
A Frozen Wonderland

Night Snow, Utagawa Hiroshige, circa 1833, The Met

Snowy Mt. Hira and Mikami

比良三山　雪さしわたせ　鷲の橋　

Hira Mikami yuki sashi watase sagi no hashi

Snowy Hira and Mikami
For the moment, encircled
A bridge of white herons
Matsuo Basho, Otsu on Lake Biwa, looking west to the Hira Mountains

Snowy Mount Hira, artist, Utagawa Hiroshige, 19th century, image source The Met

A bridge of birds

A bridge of birds is one of those images one comes across while walking along a lake or in a wooded field. It is a magical image, one that is fleeting. When the birds are geese, the flock noisy chatters overhead, making a familiar V-shaped formation that look like an arched bridge. Herons are stragglers, silently flapping their wings,to the accompaniment of a swooshing sound.

Soon gone and silent again.

Herons often fly alone but can on rare occasion be seen in flocks. It is a rare sight, one that Matsuo Basho enjoyed while making a day trip to Otsu on the southern shore of Lake Biwa. Basho chose Otsu as his burial place, giving this haiku added meaning.

Lost in Translation

Hira and Mikami, 比良三山, snow covered Hira mountains and Mt. Mikami. They lie on opposite sides of Lake Biwa.

Yuki, 雪, snow.

Sashi watase, さしわたせ, for the moment, plus, joined or encircled.

Sagi no hashi, 鷲の橋, literally a bridge of white herons. The No, の particle links two nouns together to show a connection, and form a single image, a bridge of birds. One does not have to assume the herons are white (Shirasagi, 白鷺), but it makes for a prettier image.

[All images in the public domain, source The Met.]