Let it rain all day, just not today.

A drizzle, a sprinkle, a mist, a shower, April showers that bring May flowers, a steady shower, a downpour and a deluge like the one that Noah had, a thunderstorm, a thunder clapper, cats and dogs, into each life some rain must fall. Rain, rain, go away, come some other day, and when it comes let’s all hope for a passing rain…

A word, a name, the Way, the Dao

The Dao teaches us that things can have many names, that names change. So many names, so many words for many things. In a word, it seems much the same. And yet, one suspects, there is a difference.

“What’s in a name?” Shakespeare famously wrote. Shakespeare put this question in the mouth of Juliet, who observed that a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet. Of course, Juliet’s discourse was about the fact that for Romeo and Juliet, one a Montague, the other a Capulet, by birth, sworn enemies.

“Water of the Sky” a book by Miya Ando compiles 2,000 Japanese words for rain along with their English interpretations. To do so, she resorts to that which precedes rain, or what accompanies rain, its quantity, its sound, what is and what isn’t rain, of rain and man.

How charming, how thoughtful, what a good book to buy.

Given this, I wondered what Matsuo Basho thought of rain. As with Miya Ando, Basho heard the rain dripping through his roof, he was soaked by rain, and saw how rain froze on monkeys, how rain came in drizzles and downpours, and what it did to his beloved Banana (Basho) tree outside his front door. And with the help of ChatGPT I came up with this list:

Note. the word order is sometimes changed.

初雪 (hatsuyuki)

初雪や / 水仙の葉の / たわむまで
Hatsuyuki ya/ suisen no ha no/ tawamu made

First snow,
piling on the daffodil,
until it bends

— Hatsuyuki, literally, first snow, last snow, which is which? Is it the end of winter yet? It seems strange to start with this, but every gardener knows snow sometimes doesn’t know it is Spring.

雨 (ame)

雨の日や / 世間の人の / 見えぬ哉
ame no hi ya / seken no aki o / sakai-chō

A rainy day —
the people of the world
are nowhere to be seen.

– Ame, a good plain rain, when no seasonal nuance is needed.

春雨 (harusame)

春雨や / 蓬を延ばす / 草の道
harusame ya / yomogi o nobasu kusa

Spring rain—
lets the mugwort grow
along the grassy path.

– Harusame, Spring rain, ah, soft, gentle rain that nourishes all life. And why the mugwort? Like parsley and cilantro, it has a medicinal quality, it is a non-alcoholic digestif. Basho welcomed it as he was plagued with stomach issues later in life.

五月の雨岩檜葉の緑いつまでぞ

五月雨 (samidare)

五月雨を / 集めて早し / 最上川
Samidarewo/ atsumete hayashi/ mogamigawa

This summer rain,
it gathers, rushing quickly,
— the Mogami River.

– Samidare, literally, the rain in the fifth month (May). When it rains, it leads to floods and rising rivers and an exciting ride down the Mogami. Compare the slightly different 五月の雨, gogatsu, no ame, literally, the rain in the fifth month (May). In poetic readings, the phrase is transformed into satsuki no ame.

五月の雨
岩檜葉の緑
いつまでぞ
Satsuki no ame / iwahiba no midori / itsumade zo

The rain in May,
splashes on the rocks keeping the cypress green.
— how long will it last?

This unsatisfactory translation refers to the majestic cypress trees that grow dense and think in Japanese forests. Iwahiba 岩檜葉, the cypress tree. The “how long will it last” is an allusion to the fact the wood of the cypress is used in Japanese temples.

時雨 (shigure)

初時雨 / 猿も小蓑を / ほしげ也
Hatsu Shigure / Saru Mo Ko Mino O / Ho Shige yě

A late autumn rain,
Oh, a monkey needs and want
A warm winter coat

– Shigure, it has come to mean a cold, intermittent rain in late autumn or early winter. One that catches that poor monkey unprepared and needing a winter coat.

夕立 (yūdachi)

夕立や / 草葉をつかむ / むら雀
Yūdachi ya/ Kusaba o tsukamu/ mura suzume

grasping blades of grass,
in a sudden summer shower
— a quarrel of sparrows

– Yudachi, hurry home, don’t be caught in a sudden evening downpour

霧雨 (kirisame)

霧雨や / 日暮れに残る / 海の色
Kirisame ya/ higure ni nokoru/ umi no iro

Amidst the mist,
the color of the sea, at dusk
still remains.

– Kirisame, literally, a misty rain, or the mist itself, not a heavy or steady rain, but just a very little, letting the sunlight color the sea and sky.

村雨 (murasame)

村雨や / 釣瓶落としの / 水の音
Murasame ya/ tsurube otoshi no/ mizu no ote

Sudden squall, ouch —
water pounding
dropping in a copper bucket.

– Murasame, literally, a village rain. Over time it has come to mean sudden squall. Basho is at home, and has to contend with a leaky roof. 水の音, mizu no ote will make another appearance in Basho’s well-known frog in the old pond haiku.

雪 (yuki)

雪と雪 / 今宵師走の / 名月哉
Yuki to yuki/ koyoi shiwasu no/ meigetsu kana

Snow, let it snow,
all evening long in December
— what a beautiful moon!

— Yuki, yuki, Let it snow, let it snow, but let the moon shine through.

深雪 (miyuki)

深雪や / 庵の柱の / きしむ音
Miyuki ya/ an no hashira no/ kishimu oto

The snow is so deep
it buries my humble hut
beneath its creaking noise.

— Miyuki, Deep frigid snow, the kind to bring the world to a stop.