People, Pay attention

At a party in Iga, Ueno
Genroku 2, 1689
Basho, age 45

It is difficult to get everyone’s attention at a party, especially if its cold. A group of Basho’s friends and disciples have joined him in Iga, Ueno province (where Basho was born) at the local inn. Everybody, pay attention, I know its cold, but let’s get this renga party going before we’ve drunk too much.

人々をしぐれよ宿は寒くとも
hitobito o shigureyo yado wa samuku tomo

Friends and disciples,
It’s sleeting and freezing,
Though the inn is cold, pay attention!

Good friends, everyone,
Listen up, it is sleeting!
Though the inn is cold.
(5-7-5 pattern)
Matsuo Basho, December 1689

[hitobito (people, everybody) o (particle expressing emphasis, ‘pay attention’) shigureyo (late autumn, early winter shower, December shower) yado wa (the inn is) samuku (cold, freezing) tomo (friends)]

Matsuo Basho, 1689

The year 1689 was one with a major accomplishment — Basho and Sora’s five month journey into Japan’s northern interior that would become Oku no Hosomichi, published after Basho’s death. The journey ended in Ōgaki, Gifu Prefecture, near Nagoya. Basho rested in the area for a while, then he traveled south to Iga, in Mie province perhaps to visit with family one more time.

There, friends and disciples gathered at an inn to catch up on old times, to recite haiku, and drink.

人々をしぐれよ宿は寒くとも
hitobito o shigureyo yado wa samuku tomo
Pay attention, listen up, outside it is freezing, let’s party

The Sound of Ice

Winter 1693

Kenkō, 兼好 (1283–1350) Buddhist monk and author wrote this:

“It is foolish to be enthralled by fame and fortune, painfully striving all your life, and not enjoy a moment of peace and quiet.”
Yoshida Kenkō, How Will You Spend Your Last Day

By the winter of 1693, Matsuo Basho was back in Edo, again in the Fukagawa neighborhood across the frozen Sumida River, living in a simple cottage. Cottage might be an overstatement. A hut with a thatched roof that let the rain in would be a better description with buckets to catch the pattering rain.

But as it is winter, the sound of ice at night, signals the end is near.

A bottle breaks
An icy night,
I’m awake!

The crock cracks,
I am awake,
Ice at night

Awoken by
The cracking crock
— An icy night

瓶割るる夜の氷の寝覚め哉
kamewa ruru / yoru no koori no / nezame kana

Matsuo Basho

Notes on Translation

Kamewa ruru, 瓶割るる, the bottle breaks, the crock cracks. Not a shattering of the glass, but a slender crack that appears, like ice in a pond.

Yoru no kōri no, 夜の氷の, the ice at night.

Nezame kana, 寝覚め哉, one has the sense of suddenly being awoken from a deep sleep.

Kaba-t,カバっ, an onomatopoeic expression for waking up with a start.

Shiwasu, December

Being rushed,
I give a forget-the-year party
In a good mood,
I wonder?

Setsuka rete Toshi wasure suru Kigen kana

せつかれて　年忘れする　機嫌かな

**Shiwasu, December, Priests rushing to make ready the Temple**

Forget the Year

I have no year for which to date Matsuo Basho’s New Year’s haiku. The winter of 1682 is a likely year, for his Banana Hut was destroyed in a fire. The following year his mother died. There are perhaps other likely candidates, but I don’t suppose we will know.

This haiku is like a scrap of paper fallen from a pocket as one fiddles about for change to feed the parking meter when rushing about on New Year’s Eve.

Of course it is now January 2021. Being rushed by the holidays, worried about a pandemic, and an election crisis, I almost forgot to celebrate the passing of 2020. Or, Basho would agree, I simply wanted to forget an awful 2020.

Shiwasu, 師

In 17th century Japan, Japanese families prepared for the New Year’s Eve party by rushing to a Shinto shrine to venerate their ancestors. For this reason, December is given the name Shiwasu, 師走, which translates as the “month of running priests” who are busy sweeping up and setting out candles. At the temples and shrines, wishes for the new year must be made, and new omamori (charms) bought and old ones returned to be be burned.

Today, as back then, there is a bit of sadness mixed in with gladness. The Japanese call these New Year’s parties 忘年会, bonenkai, literally forget the year party. For Basho, this becomes 年忘れする, toshi wasure suru, forget the year. Perhaps it was a bad year.

We all have those. And come the New Year don’t we wish to be in a good mood, 機嫌 Kigen. I wonder, かな, kana. And don’t some like to keep grudges. Hmmm?