Beginning, Sixth month, fifth day (19 July), Oku no Hosomichi, 1689
From the Three Mountains of Dewa [Mts. Haguro, Gassan and Yudono], from the shrine at Mt. Haguro, to Tsuruoka, where as guests of samurai called Nagayama Shigeyuki, Basho attended a renga, then by boat to the ocean and Sakata.
One can always argue about the hottest time of day. It is not noon, for the thermometer is just heating up. Some say, 2 – 4, when the sun is on your back, but how about 4 – 6, when you’ve been out all day.
At the hottest time of day, the sun splashes in the sea — Mogami River
暑き日を 海に入れたり 最上川
Atsuki hi wo Umi ni iretari Mogamigawa — Matsuo Basho, Sakata, late summer, Oku no Hosomichi, 1689
Note. For those trying to retrace Basho’s steps on the Oku no Hosomichi, it appears that he and Sora made their way into Dewa province on an ill-marked trail, then proceeded down the roaring Mogami River to Obanazawa. There they retraced their steps back to the Rissyakuji Temple at Yamadera.
The path of life is not always a straight. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we turn back, eventually, we forge ahead.
On a walk or a run, Thirty minutes is nothing, — Time Flies — Bashō no yōna
Zen is many things to many people, the slowing down of time, the sensation of the world around you, what on might call ultimate reality, the absolute, disconnected from the cell phone, in tune with Nature. On a run at Pawnee Prairie Park in May. The lake is full, beside the lake the yellow Iris are in bloom. In the lake the turtles rest on logs as ducks and their ducklings swim by. And as you near the water’s edge, the frogs click before they jump into the water. Ker-plop!
From a renga collection called Edo Sangin 江戸三吟. Fugu, blowfish soup, daring but delicious.
あら何ともなや昨日は過ぎて河豚汁 ara nan tomo na ya kinō wa sugite fukuto-jiru well, nothing’s happened yesterday is gone — blowfish soup
Matsuo Bashō, Edo Sangin, Spring 1678
Spring 1678
Six years in Edo, still a penniless poet, working odd jobs, teaching haiku, relying on the largess of patrons. Taking in Noh plays in Edo’s fashionable Nihonbashi District, sitting in cafes, reciting rhymes in renga fashion.
Thirty four years old. How is he feeling?
Numb, as if he had just eaten fugu. Daring but delicious.
Or maybe he was just celebrating the fact that he had eaten blowfish soup the day before and nothing happened.
Basho haiku have been published in various anthologies, and he too has published his own anthologies. But Basho has not yet found his name for he still goes by the pen name Tosei, an unripe peach.
The French like their soup.
bien, rien ne se passé hier est parti — soupe de poisson-globe
.
Oh, mon Dieu, hier est passé, manger de la soupe de poisson-globe
Matsuo Basho, French
Fuga
If you prefer:
Thank God, Yesterday is gone, Eating Fugu soup
Tosei
Fugu. Blowfish are often grouped lowfish, pufferfish, porcupine-fish and trigger-fish. These delicacies are known for producing a neurotoxin that can numb, and even kill. I assume, but don’t know if the Japanese Lionfish is included in this group.
Japanese Proverbs:
Wanting to eat fugu, But wishing to live Another day.
.
Those who eat fugu soup are stupid, Just like those who don’t
Between Fall and Winter On a blustery day, I went for a jog In Pooh Park
Bashō no yōna, between fall and winter, 2023
‘Pooh Park’ better known as Chisholm Creek Park, home to the Great Plains Nature Center in Sedgwick County, Kansas. The volunteer at the Center explaining that the park has about one hundred acres of woods and fields, and all sorts of critters, but no bears, making it not quite ‘Pooh Perfect.’
Pooh, full name, Winnie the Pooh, is the creation of English author A. A. Milne and English illustrator E. H. Shepard. Pooh is a Matsuo Basho like bear who speaks in rhymes, while curiously seeking adventure.
FromNozarashi kikô Jokyo, year 1, Autumn, 1684, Matsuo Basho,age 41
Beating a cotton bow comforting like a lute, deep in the bamboo.
綿弓や琵琶になぐさむ竹の奥 watayumi ya biwa ni nagusamu take no oku
Matsuo Basho, Nozarashi kikô, Autumn 1684
Deep in a Bamboo Grove
By the late fall of 1684, Tokugawa Yoshimune (徳川 吉宗), the great grandson of Tokugawa Ieyasu (徳川家康), the founder of the Tokugawa shogunate , would become the eighth shōgun. Matsuo Basho lived in Edo, the capital of the shogunate, but by now he had removed himself from the city, across the river, to a little cottage in the quiet Fukagawa District.
Basho has finally taken on the nom de plume, Basho, (formerly Tosei, the unripe peach); he is a little gray around the temples, in the prime of his life, at the top of his career, embarking on the first of his travels — Nozarashi kikô, 野ざらし紀行 (Travelogue of Weather-Beaten Bones).
Basho writes:
“Entering Yamato province, at a place called ‘Amid the Bamboo Groves’ (Take no uchi) at a city called Katsuragi … Because this was my companion Chiri’s birthplace, we rested several days in a house deep within a bamboo grove.”
The 12th century poet/monk Saigyo spent three years in Yamato province. Basho visited his memorial on this trip. Basho made this trip the year after his mother’s death, and a stop included his hometown.
[The above English translation quote comes from the website of Dr. Gabi Greve, Daruma Museum, Japan. Another site in Japanese, Yamanashi, contains a discussion of the travelogue, but does not mention Chiri. In the prior entry, Basho writes of returning to Iga Ueno (his hometown) for the first time in nine years. For the peaceful bamboo grove, Basho likely had in mind the poem of the Tang dynasty poet Wang Wei.]
Basho, a Recluse
The life of a recluse often played on the mind of Matsuo Basho. The 12th century monk/poet Saigyo likely inspired Basho to leave Edo with its flashy art district, Nihonbashi, and move south, across the Sumida River, to the distant and remote Fukagawa District. There he lived alone, or sometimes taking in guests, composing, becoming Matsuo Basho. Basho because of the banana tree growing beside his cottage, weathering the storm, good for nothing but providing shade from the sun.
The symbol of bamboo is a pervasive one in Japanese, as well as Chinese, literature. Common and ordinary, bamboo could represent the people bowing to the will of the emperor. More often, bamboo represented the anonymity of being lost in a crowd. Thus, we have the story of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove. Chinese scholars, poets, and musicians of the Three Kingdom Period who retreated to a bamboo grove to be far from the watchful eye of the imperial court.
Poets of the Tang dynasty, like Wang Wei, would play upon this theme of retreat, of solace, of peace. Basho would often tell his disciples, “Learn about pines from the pine, and about bamboo from the bamboo.” This means the poet must immerse himself, of herself, in Nature to understand its mysteries, its beauty.
Notes on Translation
The retreat belonged to Kiemon Aburaya, a village headman in Katsuragi (Nara prefecture), near Mt. Yamato. The poet Saigyo is associated with this area. The haiku is likely a poem of greeting to Keimon, Basho’s host.
watayumi (the process of beating raw cotton into cotton using a bow made of bamboo) ya (exclamation) biwa (biwa, the Chinese lute) ni (in) nagusamu (comforting one’s worries) take (bamboo) no oku (deep within, the original meaning of this character 奥 referred to somewhere far removed and out of sight.)
Meigitsu 名月 — bright moon, full moon, in Autumn we call Harvest Moon. September, the acorns are falling, there is dew in the grass once again, it is cooler, and the world is experiencing its last Super Moon until 2037. Is the moon locking up the summer heat? We hope.
Zansho残暑 — the heat lingers on Summer is over its heat sent to the Harvest Moon, let’s enjoy the coolness
夏かけて名月暑き涼み哉 natsu kaketemeigetsu atsukisuzumi kana
Matsuo Basho, Autumn 1693
natsu kakete (natsu, summer; kakete, over; meaning thank God, ‘summer is over’) meigetsu (harvest moon, full moon) atsuki (heat, hot) suzumi (beat the heat, cooling off) kana (expressing hope)
Summer is Over
Zansho, 残暑. And still, the heat lingers on.
Gabi Greve, in her excellent website on all things Basho, notes that this haiku was written “on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month of 1693”. It was Matsuo Basho’s last harvest moon. Tired and not feeling well, Basho was ready for a break from teaching, visitors, and family (he had been caring for his nephew who was ill).
Note. Full moons in the Japanese lunar calendar had occurred on the 13th day. In 1684, the Japanese lunar calendar was shifted so that the new moon fell on the first day of each month, moving the full moon to the 15th day of the month. On a western calendar, this is bumped to September, Friday, September 29th, to be precise.
Extra:
Just for fun, check out Ruth Etting singing Shine on Harvest Moon
As September turns into October, one’s thoughts turn to the past.
Going home, but where is home?
Five years before Matsuo Basho set off on the journey into Japan’s Northern Interior (Oku no Hosomichi), he took a trip back to his family home (near Ueno, in Iga Province). It was time. His mother had died the year before, and he needed to pay his respect. The travelogue (Basho’s insights plus haiku) he created was given the name — Nozarashi Kiko. It was the first of four.
And what lies ahead is his past.
The first two haiku set the tone. Thoughts of his dead mother, in his mind and heart. Ten years now in Edo (Tokyo), truly what is home?
bleached bones on my mind, a piercing wind to my soul 野ざらしを心に風のしむ身哉 nozarashi o kokoro ni kaze no shimu mi kana note. nozarashi (sometimes translates to ‘bleached bones in a field,’ sometimes, to a ‘weather beaten’) o (particle meaning ‘of’) kokoro (heart, soul, core) ni (in, at) kaze (wind) no (of) shimu (blowing) mi (body) kana (!). Matsuo is thinking about his mother, now dead for one year. This thought touches both his mind and soul.
autumn, ten years gone, now I point to Edo as my hometown 秋十年却って江戸を指す故郷 aki totose kaette Edo o sasu kokyo aki (autumn) totose (ten years gone) kaette (now, instead, rather) Edo (江戸, the Japanese capital where Basho has lived for the last ten years) o (particle ‘from’, now if asked, Basho says he is from Edo) sasukokyo (point to home)
Matsuo Basho, Autumn 1684
I love to travel in Autumn. The leaves turning red and gold. The kids back in school. The summer heat is done. The cool weather makes it nice to hike. It is easier to find a room at half the price.
September, October, Pack your bags and go, Until it snows in November
Bashō no yōna, September 2023
Going Home
Matsuo Basho’s trip to Ueno to see his siblings (It is said that he had six brothers and sisters.) was only a portion of the trip. Other stops included the Grand Shrine at Ise, and Yamato Province, in the vast Ryōhaku Mountains, to walk in the footsteps of Saigyo and see the remains of his hut.
Sadly, when he began the trip he came across an abandoned child along the Fuji River. Does one who loses a mother think of oneself as such?
A Japanese cottage by a lake. A little too large to be Matsuo Basho’s.
Summer, 1689. The Mogami River tumbles into a mountain valley in northern Yamagata Prefecture. There one finds peaceful Obanazawa, 尾花沢, meaning Marsh of Irises. Matsuo Basho, and his companion Sora, are staying with Seifu, a well-to-do safflower merchant and haiku poet.
涼しさを我宿にしてねまる也 suzushisa o waga yado ni shite nemaru nari
making coolness my lodging for a while, I may rest
這出よかひやが下のひきの声 Haideyo kaiya ga shita no hiki no koe
Crawl and creep From under this shed You loud mouth frog
Note. Hai, the first character in this haiku has several meanings. Creep and crawl is the intended meaning, but as homophone, it means to bow reverentially. Another meaning is “to give up.” Kaiya, the shed where the silkworms are kept. Kiki. A Bullfrog. Frogs and toads eat caterpillars. Kaiya, also a Japanese feminine name meaning “Forgiveness.”
まゆはきを俤にして紅粉の花 mayuhaki o omokage ni shite beni no hana
recalling to mind an eyebrow brush benihana (Safflower blossoms)
Oku no Hosomichi, Obanazawa, Summer 1684, Matsuo Basho
Note. Mayu, まゆ the first two characters, means eyebrow. Its homophone, 繭 a silkworm cocoon. Beni no hana, 紅粉の花, literally red powder flower. Safflowers produce yellow and red dyes which range from light yellow through pink, rose and crimson. For this reason, they are popular in cosmetics.
Basho’s annotation from the travelogue, Oku no Hosomichi:
“I visited Seifu in Obanazawa. He is a rich merchant of a truly poetic turn of mind. He has a deep understanding of the hardships of being on the road, for he himself had often traveled to the capital city. He invited me to stay at his place as long as I wished, trying to make me comfortable in every way he could.”
蠶飼する人は古代のすがた哉 kogai suru hito wa kodai no sugata kana
those tending silkworms keep their ancient appearances
Sora
Note. Kogai, 蠶飼. Silkworms are the larval form of the silk moth. The caterpillar spins a cocoon out of silk fibers for its metamorphosis into a moth. Silkworms have been domesticated since at least 3500 BC.
The hearts of two wayfarers, too soon comes the hour, we are saddened by parting, and death’s flower.
Resembling the heart of a wayfarer, a Chinquapin flower A wayfarer’s heart resembles, a Shinohana 旅人の 心にも似よ 椎の花 Tabibito no Kokoro nimo niyo Shinohana
Note – Shi, 死 the Japanese word for death. Shinohana, a homophone, death’s flower.
A sorrowful person will learn from the trip, taught by the flies of Kiso 憂き人の旅にも習へ木曽の蝿 uki hito no tabi ni mo narae Kiso no hae .
Matsuo Basho, Summer 1693, Kiso Valley
For Matsuo Basho, the end is near. It is the summer of 1693. His nephew Koin, who was staying with him in his Fukagawa hut, had died. Basho is on the Nakasendo Road to his home. Perhaps to deliver the news. Perhaps, Kyoriku, an artist friend accompanied him, part way, or the two met along the way. Then parted, wayfarers on life’s short journey.
Horse Chestnut flowers fallen on the ground
Much like the Horse Chestnut (Ozark chinquapin) that blooms in my backyard, in June, the Castanopsis flowers, or Chinquapin, too, are blooming in Japan’s Kiso mountains. The long cattail-like flowers falling and littering the ground.
The wabi-sabi, 侘び 寂び of the moment moves Matsuo Basho. On the one hand, the flower falling to the ground comforts him with its fleeting beauty.
On the other hand, the flies give him no peace.
Found on the Internet
Letter to Kyoroku, late April, 1693.
For five or six days now, his misery has been intense,
Toin appears close to death. Last evening, Torin came over to nurse him all night long. But this is tuberculosis, there is no quick end. The beauty of cherry blossoms dwell in my heart, and as this was Toin’s last season, I took him to see the blossoms, and he was happy.
Note. Taihakudo Torin (d. 1719), Basho’s friend and disciple, who retraced Basho’s 1689 journey three years after his death, preparing the way for the publication of Oku no Hosomichi.