Out of the blue, a lovely comment from Maria:
Fine di un amore —
andando verso un nuovo
batticuorea finished love —
Maria, 2024
on the way to a new heartbeat
Making love, Maria reminds one, is sometimes about something more.
A lovely thought,
Bashō no yōna, February, 2024
Making love, a mother’s thought
Of the future
New Year, 1685
From the Nozarashi kiko (1684-1685), the year after his mother died. From Edo, along the Tokaido Road, home to Iga, then to Nagoya, on the road to Nara, Basho chanted verse to himself, as we all like to do when we walk alone.
年暮れぬ . 笠きて草鞋 . はきながら
Matsuo Basho, Nozarashi kikō, New Year, 1685
Toshi kurenu . kasa kite waraji . haki nagara
The year is fading,
wearing a hat and straw sandals,
while aspiring to keep it together
toshi (year) kurenu (getting dark, fading) kasa (covering hat, often made of bamboo) kite waraji (straw sandals) haki (can mean drive or ambition) nagara (while, simultaneously)
Maybe Basho’s student is aspiring to find a little more meaning in an otherwise straight forward haiku. Most transalators do no better than to say,
“Another year is gone, and I still wear a bamboo hat and straw sandals.”
Americans have a saying “squeeze the lemon” which can mean getting the last ounce of goodness out of something. A pejorative twist is to get everything you can from another person, for good or bad. And then sometimes, when you squeeze a lemon all you get is lemon juice, meaning “that’s it.”
Bashō no yōna often thinks there is more to a haiku, and there isn’t.
The Lunar New Year this year comes February the 10th. It will be the year of the dragon, which I suppose is something. And if you are born this year then you are naturally lucky and gifted.
Squeeze the lemon
Bashō no yōna
All you get
is lemon juice
.
easy peasy
lemon squeezy
that was easy
.
mi kasa
y su kasa
make two kasa
Matsuo Munefusa, as he was then known, wrote this haiku when he was only nineteen.
“It is only the twenty ninth (of January), yet Spring has sprung (Risshun, 立春).“
春や来し年や行きけん小晦日
Matsuo Chūemon Munefusa, Matsuo Basho, Spring, 1663
haru ya koshi | oh spring, has sprung
toshi ya yukiken | year after year is gone,
kotsugomori | it’s New Year’s Eve
If it was still January, then Spring was early for the budding poet. For the Lunar New Year took place on February the 8th.
This haiku, like many others that I have translated, comes back again and again, year after year, like Spring, then gone.
This is the first known haiku by the poet who would one day become Matsuo Basho. It was written in the Spring of 1663. The young poet was then a servant to his samurai master, Tōdō Yoshitada.
One has to ask …
The Japanese, like the Chinese (and not unlike the ancient Egyptians), used a lunar calendar to calculate when to plant, harvest, and celebrate the cycles of the year. Already, the young poet who would become Matsuo Basho was
Spring, by Oriental reckoning, begins in February when it is still very cold, but the first signs of Spring can be seen in a few blades of green grass that sprout, the swelling buds on trees, and a warm breeze.
Shin’nen’omedetō 新年おめでとう,
“Happy New Year!” Matsuo Basho and Bashō no yōna send you greetings, wishing you and yours peace and harmony throughout the year.
The Roman calendar had the two-faced god Janus looking backwards and forwards. So, it is not surprising that the Japanese lunar calendar should start with February, not January. For an agricultural society whose lives revolved around the moon it is perfectly logical to want to begin a new year one month after the Winter Solstice (December 21st).
That was, after all, the shortest day of the year.
Thus, the Japanese lunar year often begins in the month we call February. But beware! Because the Gregorian Calendar has been adopted in Japan, one will often see Shiwasu (January) as December, presumably on the theory that shoppers are scurrying to buy presents and celebrate the end of the year as December 31st.
Here are the names of the Japanese lunar months.
| February | Mutsuki 睦月 | Month of Peace and Harmony |
| March | Kisaragi 如月 | Month to Change Clothing |
| April | Yayoi 弥生 | Plants Begin to Grow |
| May | Uzuki 卯月 | Month of Deutzia (Flower Blossoms) |
| June | Satsuki 皐月 | Month to Plant Rice |
| July | Minazuki 水無月 | Month of Water, Flooding |
| August | Fumizuki 文月 | Month of Literature, Arts |
| September | Hazuki 葉月 | Month of Leaves, Leaves Turning Color |
| October | Nagatsuki 長月 | Long Month* |
| November | Kannazuki 神無月 | Month of no Gods |
| December | Shimotsuki 霜月 | Month of Frost |
| January | Shiwasu 師走 | Month of Running Priests |
Notes
February, it is too cold to fight. Isn’t it sweet to begin a New Year not running around but in peace and harmony.
March, the weather keeps changing from cold to warm and back again. And so do the clothes.
April, Spring is in the air, the earth turns green.
May, Cherry trees blossom.
June, plant rice because the summer monsoon rains will soon begin.
July, the rice paddies are flooded.
August, in between the planting and harvesting there is time to read and write.
September, the leaves on the trees turn glorious colors.
October, long because the farmer is harvesting the crops.
November, godless because the gods are off somewhere. The leaves from the tree fallen, brown and black, the earth being bitter and cold.
January, running priest, hurrying to get ready for Lunar New Year.
You looking at me
Me looking at you,
Looking at me, oh dear!
This is the idea of the following haiku In the vastness of Muashi province a deer’s call is very small and does not go far.
武蔵野や一寸ほどな鹿の声
musashi no ya | Muashi province
issun hodo na | is very small and does not go far
shika no koe | a deer’s voice
Saigyo, who travels deep into Musashino, meets an old monk at a hermitage in a secluded grassland.
This appears to relate to the Love Songs from the Man’yoshu (8th century).
Night deepens
with the sound of a deer calling,
hearing my own one-sided love.
—-Ono no Komachi, from The Man’yoshu
Muashi, Muashi province. The sound of Musashino’s noise was loud, and we parted ways, and in the evening we would not meet again
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
Matsuo Bashō, Edo Sangin, Spring 1678
ara nan tomo na ya kinō wa sugite fukuto-jiru
well, nothing’s happened
yesterday is gone
— blowfish soup
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,
Matsuo Basho, French
hier est passé,
manger de la soupe de poisson-globe
If you prefer:
Thank God,
Tosei
Yesterday is gone,
Eating Fugu soup
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
Japanese proverbs
are stupid,
Just like those who don’t
Still curious about Fugu? Check out WKD.
Eating fugu and blowfish was banned by the shogunate after a number of samurai died from fugu poisoning.
氷苦く偃鼠が咽をうるほせり
Matsuo Basho, Winter 1683
kōri nigaku . enso ga nodo o . uruoseri
Ice is bitter, in a rat’s mouth, but it quenches his thirst.
Ice that’s bitter, in a rat’s mouth, just enough to shut him up
Shut up, uru sei
Most translators are happy to let the rat quench his throat with the bitter taste of ice. A second interpretation is that it makes him ‘shut up’. Uru sei (うるせい) and Uru oseri (うるほせり) being the slight distinction. Of course, For Basho, it is winter, bitterly cold and he is trying to get some sleep. A noisy rat needs to shut up.
The year 1683 was bitter for Matsuo Basho, whose mother died earlier that year. His beloved Basho-an, his hut in Fukagawa, had burned down the previous winter, but friends had found him a new one. One no doubt he was getting used to, accompanied by the river rats. (Basho lived near the Sumida River.)
No doubt, also on his mind was that, in the Japanese zodiac, the year to come, February 15, 1684, to be exact was the year of the Rat.
The year 2024 is the year of the Dragon, almost half way in to 12 year cycle that makes up the Chinese and Japanese zodiac. The Rat begins again the cycle.
Gentle Reader, in case you are curious, today, for those born under the Rat sign things look fabulous — despite the bitterly cold weather sweeping the land.
Please, will someone let the weatherman know.
kōri (water) nigaku (bitter) enso (rat, mouse) ga nodo (rat’s mouth) o uruoseri (quench, satisfy). Uru sai literally means noisy or annoying, but is often used to get someone to shut up. Being a non-native student of Japanese, I come up with ‘get satisfied’ for uro oseri うるほせり.
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
Matsuo Basho, Oi no Kobumi, Winter 1687-8
yuki ya suna uma yori ochiyo sake no yoi
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?
“Monkey see, monkey do” is an old saying meaning doing something without understanding what one is doing.
AI and Monkeys
I tested Chatgpt to come up with a New Year haiku and got this:
Midnight whispers cease,
Chatgpt, New Year haiku, 2023
Hope unfurls in quiet dawn,
New year’s breath begins.
Next year, I will try it again, and again…
年々や – 猿に着せたる – 猿の面
Matsuo Basho, New Year, 1693
Toshi doshi ya – saru ni kisetaru – saru no men
Year after year,
dressed like a monkey
wearing a monkey mask
Penultimate
Matsuo Basho gave us this one in the next to very last year of his life. Penultimate, is a fancy word for it. Meaning, next to last. (Basho died in November of 1694.) Basho was, one presumes, visiting the Sarutahiko Shrine in Ise, Mie, near his hometown. A bitter farewell to the old year, a farewell to home and youth. Before the New Year one buys a monkey mask to ward off evil spirits.
I sense some irony in humans aping monkeys and not the other way around.
Monkeys Typing
Speaking of monkeys and AI, there is the infinite monkey theorem that states that a monkey randomly clicking keys on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will produce all the great literature of the world, and what remains to written.
Which is scary, if one has the time to read it.
Coincidentally, the ending year, 1692, had been the year of the monkey. The next year of the monkey won’t begin until February of 2028.
And yes, I know, the Japanese New Year correctly begins in February.
Mori Sosen, a Japanese painter of the Shijō school during the Edo period, was famous for painting monkeys over and over again.
Last year, first news
Genroku, 7th year, 1694
New Year’s Feast at Edo
The news is not good in Edo. It is cold. His sick nephew Toin, who he had taken in, had died of tuberculosis, and Basho is alone in his cottage. Basho himself is dealing with recurring stomach problems. At a New Year’s gathering, Basho wants to hear of the news at the Grand Shrine at Ise.
In the summer of 1694, Basho would leave his cottage for the last time. He would die in November.
At a New Year’s Feast
Matsuo Basho, Edo, New Year 1694
I want to hear
The first news at Ise
蓬莱に聞かばや伊勢の初便り
hōrai ni kika baya Ise no hatsu dayori
Matsuo Basho visited the Grand Shrine at Ise many times. This is not surprising since the Buddhist shrine is in Mie province, near to Iga-Ueno where Basho was born. On the New Year the shrine is particularly popular with visitors and the news would be buzzing about.
hōrai (a New Year’s feast) ni (a participle to indicate location); kika hear, ask, listen; baya (want) Ise (Grand Shrine of Ise) no (participle connecting Ise with the New Year tidings) hatsu dayori (hatsu, first time, and dayori, news of tidings, New Year’s news or tidings)
Horai. A paradise based upon the Chinese Penglai. In Horai there is no death, no pain, and there is no winter. Horai also refers to the New Year’s banquet.
matsuo-basho-haiku 