Haiku: Natural Simplicity
I have read many Haiku while studying Japanese history, and each and every time I am fortunate enough to read one, I am struck by the weight that the poem can deliver in such a limited space. The Haiku is perhaps one of the best examples of the idea of minimalism/simplicity in Japanese culture. There is a common story tossed around concerning this philosophy, which is about how to make a chopstick. The instructions go; first, you must start with a tree, then you remove everything from that tree that is not a chopstick. Similarly, nature in that way is very simple, most parts of biology and the theory of evolution promote the idea that evolution removes most everything from it’s creatures and plants that is not needed for their survival. The Haiku as a form represents both that frugality and emphasis on nature. Yosa Buson’s haiku below, expresses this.
“The horse’s tail
Caught in the bramble
On the withered moor (Buson 221).”
The image that comes to my mind is a weary traveler, on horseback. Cold and wet from long weeks of travel. Now we find him riding through an open moor, the ground soaked with rain, air heavy with mist, every rock covered in moss and lichen. The tall dry grass and small bushes reaching up to scratch at the legs of his horse. Then as they pass by a thorny bramble, the long tail of the horse gets caught on its branches, causing it to whine in pain, as the thorns tug at the hairs. The rider is startled, and hangs on desperately as the horse stamps its feet and jerks it’s head, letting loose saliva from its mouth. Clumps of mud fly high into the air in front of the crazed eyes of the horse, and the desperate clench of the rider, trying not to fall onto the many large boulders below.
This poem is very gritty and raw, it does not have the calming effect of a flowing stream or rose petals, common to many haiku. Two words aid in this feeling, “caught” and “withered.” To me, “caught” suggests a sense of danger and urgency, particularly from the person/thing/creature that has been caught. Then “withered” brings out that dark and almost lonely feeling from the moss covered rocks and mist, as if this moor has seen a millennium of rough storms, death, and seasonal change. Caught can mean more than just urgency though, it is also a description of what happened, the army of thin wavy hairs of the tail tangled up in each branch of the thorny bramble, tugging, twisting, pulling at each root and stem of hair. If the horse is dancing in agony, we see why it does so through the tail and bramble. Imagery is essential to the Haiku, because where it lacks in word count, it makes up for in the weight of each word, as each comes bearing a natural element and sensory feeling behind it.
Buson, Yosa. An Exaltation of Forms: Contemporary Poets Celebrate the Diversity of Their Art, Edited by Anne Finch and Kathrine Varnes, U. of Michigan P, 2002, pp. 221.
Chu, Jean Hyung Yul. “Haiku.” An Exaltation of Forms: Contemporary Poets Celebrate the Diversity of Their Art, Edited by Anne Finch and Kathrine Varnes, U. of Michigan P, 2002, pp. 217–222.
