An interesting and informative comment, Keith. First of all, Chiyo-ni is often overlooked when we talk about the 4 great Japanese masters of haiku; Bashō, Issa, Buson, and Shiki. From the moment I read her work, and about her, it was evident that her name should be added to the aforementioned four, as she is the most celebrated Japanese woman haiku master. Although I was quite lucky to find one early in my haiku journey, it was very hard to get a copy of the book ‘Chiyo-Ni: Woman Haiku Master by Patricia Donegan for a long time, and consequently it was very expensive. Recently, there has recently been a reprint though, and the wonderful book has become available for around 20 USD. As for this hokku by this lady haiku master, it is important to mention that many poets often revise older poems, during the development of their artistry. Also, the translations, which Keith mentions, were made in the light of Western understanding of the haiku form as seen by Western eyes. The translation by Blythe, for example, originates from before 1964. Back then, haiku were mostly written in 17 syllables and had to include a seasonal word (kigo). Also, the understanding of the Japanese culture and language was different. The difference between singular and plural nouns, as well as the understanding of Japanese morae and on(ji) (Japanese words and soundunits respectively) verses the Western syllables was misconceived, to name but a few. Moreover, although many early academics and translators knew of the existence of cutting words in the Japanese language, the translation into English (or other languages for that matter) was difficult as they do not include those words, that in themselves are without meaning. so, translating was a matter of experimentation, and probably still is, although there is a wide(r) consensus nowadays on the use of specific punctuation when those cutting words are being translated.
Thanks, Michael.
Yes indeed. Chiyo is terrific. Interestingly, quite a few of her haiku are statement-like. But they prompt reflection/meditation and contain insight, which for me rise above arbitrary considerations. We’ll have another one at the end of week four…
Translation often involves compromise. And yes, I think translators have occasionally cast their renderings the better to “sell” them (the haiku, that is) to anglophone readers —either less familiar with haiku (in the early days) but accustomed to English poetics; or more familiar with haiku but wanting to fit them into a universal, comprehensive form.
I totally agree with you on the reflection/meditation and insightful contents and/or implications in Chiyo-ni’s hokku. For me, this has always been a large part of the attraction of haikai in general! Not in the last place because I consider myself to have a Buddhist soul. 🙏🐸
Magic, indeed… Keith, your explication of these poems is illuminating.
There are two versions of this, slightly different but with almost the same import: one with “tada” (ただ), and one with “moto” (もと).
こぼれてはただの水なり紅の露 koborete wa tada no mizu nari beni no tsuyu the dew of the rouge-flower when it is spilled is simply water —Chiyo-ni tr Blyth
こぼれてはもとの水なり 紅の露 koborete wa moto no mizu nari beni no tsuyu when dropped it is only water — rouge-flower dew —tr. Donegan and Ishibashi
こぼれ koborete spills / spilled ては te wa when (or if and when) もと moto: original / former (or in the tada version ただ tada: merely, only) の no possessive particle: of 水 mizu water なり nari is (copula) 紅 beni rouge-flower (the safflower), crimson の no possessive particle: of 露 tsuyu dew
when spilled the dew of the rouge-flower is merely water (with ‘tada’) or: the dew of the rouge-flower is only water when spilled or: when spilled the dew of the rouge-flower reverts to water (with ‘moto’)
The reader is left to supply what is suggested but not written: that is, what would be seen before the dew is spilled. And there you have the intuitive ‘haiku moment’—the magical effect of the flower on the jewels of shining dew, which it colours, and of dew on the bloom, adding sparkle, intensifying its crimson. When the dew is spilled, it reverts to just the former water (and the safflower to just a safflower). The jewel-like magic of their combination is lost.
It’s a single theme couched as a statement. An observation and also an assertion. Whether we regard it as a continuous sentence with a subordinate clause rather depends on whether, and how, we interpolate a cut. If you take Shirane’s definitive list of kireji, there’s no cutting-word in this verse, even at the end. In the literal word order, there is a grammatical pause:
“when spilled it reverts to water, the dew of the rouge-flower.” To the English poetic ear, an inversion.
I suggest that in English, Blyth’s sentence with its subordinate clause captures the spirit of this verse best, by starting with the dew of the rouge-flower in the first line of the anglicized rendering—before it is spilled. I think that his rendering qualifies as one of the sentence-like examples that anglophone haiku poets, writing in English, need not feel shy of adopting, if they wish.
An interesting and informative comment, Keith. First of all, Chiyo-ni is often overlooked when we talk about the 4 great Japanese masters of haiku; Bashō, Issa, Buson, and Shiki. From the moment I read her work, and about her, it was evident that her name should be added to the aforementioned four, as she is the most celebrated Japanese woman haiku master. Although I was quite lucky to find one early in my haiku journey, it was very hard to get a copy of the book ‘Chiyo-Ni: Woman Haiku Master by Patricia Donegan for a long time, and consequently it was very expensive. Recently, there has recently been a reprint though, and the wonderful book has become available for around 20 USD. As for this hokku by this lady haiku master, it is important to mention that many poets often revise older poems, during the development of their artistry. Also, the translations, which Keith mentions, were made in the light of Western understanding of the haiku form as seen by Western eyes. The translation by Blythe, for example, originates from before 1964. Back then, haiku were mostly written in 17 syllables and had to include a seasonal word (kigo). Also, the understanding of the Japanese culture and language was different. The difference between singular and plural nouns, as well as the understanding of Japanese morae and on(ji) (Japanese words and soundunits respectively) verses the Western syllables was misconceived, to name but a few. Moreover, although many early academics and translators knew of the existence of cutting words in the Japanese language, the translation into English (or other languages for that matter) was difficult as they do not include those words, that in themselves are without meaning. so, translating was a matter of experimentation, and probably still is, although there is a wide(r) consensus nowadays on the use of specific punctuation when those cutting words are being translated.
Thanks, Michael.
Yes indeed. Chiyo is terrific. Interestingly, quite a few of her haiku are statement-like. But they prompt reflection/meditation and contain insight, which for me rise above arbitrary considerations. We’ll have another one at the end of week four…
Translation often involves compromise. And yes, I think translators have occasionally cast their renderings the better to “sell” them (the haiku, that is) to anglophone readers —either less familiar with haiku (in the early days) but accustomed to English poetics; or more familiar with haiku but wanting to fit them into a universal, comprehensive form.
I totally agree with you on the reflection/meditation and insightful contents and/or implications in Chiyo-ni’s hokku. For me, this has always been a large part of the attraction of haikai in general! Not in the last place because I consider myself to have a Buddhist soul. 🙏🐸
Magic, indeed… Keith, your explication of these poems is illuminating.
There are two versions of this, slightly different but with almost the same import: one with “tada” (ただ), and one with “moto” (もと).
こぼれてはただの水なり紅の露
koborete wa tada no mizu nari beni no tsuyu
the dew of the rouge-flower
when it is spilled
is simply water
—Chiyo-ni tr Blyth
こぼれてはもとの水なり 紅の露
koborete wa moto no mizu nari beni no tsuyu
when dropped
it is only water —
rouge-flower dew
—tr. Donegan and Ishibashi
こぼれ koborete spills / spilled
ては te wa when (or if and when)
もと moto: original / former
(or in the tada version ただ tada: merely, only)
の no possessive particle: of
水 mizu water
なり nari is (copula)
紅 beni rouge-flower (the safflower), crimson
の no possessive particle: of
露 tsuyu dew
when spilled the dew of the rouge-flower is merely water (with ‘tada’)
or:
the dew of the rouge-flower is only water when spilled
or:
when spilled the dew of the rouge-flower reverts to water (with ‘moto’)
The reader is left to supply what is suggested but not written: that is, what would be seen before the dew is spilled. And there you have the intuitive ‘haiku moment’—the magical effect of the flower on the jewels of shining dew, which it colours, and of dew on the bloom, adding sparkle, intensifying its crimson. When the dew is spilled, it reverts to just the former water (and the safflower to just a safflower). The jewel-like magic of their combination is lost.
It’s a single theme couched as a statement. An observation and also an assertion. Whether we regard it as a continuous sentence with a subordinate clause rather depends on whether, and how, we interpolate a cut. If you take Shirane’s definitive list of kireji, there’s no cutting-word in this verse, even at the end. In the literal word order, there is a grammatical pause:
“when spilled it reverts to water, the dew of the rouge-flower.”
To the English poetic ear, an inversion.
I suggest that in English, Blyth’s sentence with its subordinate clause captures the spirit of this verse best, by starting with the dew of the rouge-flower in the first line of the anglicized rendering—before it is spilled. I think that his rendering qualifies as one of the sentence-like examples that anglophone haiku poets, writing in English, need not feel shy of adopting, if they wish.
A magic haiku, one of my favourites.