It has been called the most famous of all Japanese haiku, and yet it torments me greatly - i often wonder if it is not also the most misunderstood of all.
There are many translations of this verse - from Western misunderstanding of ancient text - to Eastern reflections from modern perspective. All of them torment me. Were this not a well known ku, and someone were to enter workshop with:
a pond
a frog
splash!
Of what significance would this be? None - comes to my mind. Since my first reading of my first found translation - i have seen only a puzzle that needs solving. Towards this end i have from time to time sought out trusted university professors. And still the mystery remains. Some findings however, bring me closer.
A teaching of Basho - if you want to know the pine, go to the pine. So - i go to Basho and his time ....
The ancient "definition" of Ya - is something like, Look - behold in awe!
Furukui can (in ancient times) be seen to signify the universe itself ... an unending, and ever expanding "pool" of life.
The word "frog" is not even present in the original penning ... but rather, an illusion to a water creature of unspecified classification.
As for splash, or sound of water - the ancient definitions speak of a resonance from the beginning of time to the present as reflected in a pause between the stillness of "now" and the action of becoming one with creation (past) - and moving into the present.
What think my fellow students? Was this verse a simple moment of observation - or was/is there something more deep to ponder? My offering as the questions continue - the photo is Basho's frog which appeared one evening upon my window glass ... or so i mused at the moment. I am greatly interested in the "translations" of other students.
(http://i1182.photobucket.com/albums/x455/asa-gao/Work%20in%20Progress/FuruikeYa.jpg)
古池や蛙飛び込む水の音
If we take and explore the Japanese rather than the romaji, I feel this best.
古 - old, ancient (a thing not a person)
池 - pond, pool (refers to the idea of "storage" when used in connection with other kanji)
や - a poetic kana in Japanese poetry to demark emphasis on the previous word or phrase
蛙 - frog, toad (using older kanji from Chinese)
飛 - kanji denoting flying through the air
込む -kanji + hiragana denoting crowded
飛び込む - taken together as one the meaning is "leap into" or "jump into"
水 - kanji for "water"
の - (possessive form equivalent to the English "'s") in this case, "water's")
音 - kanji for "sound or musical note"
As you are well aware there are hundreds of interpretative "translations" of Bashou's haikai no ku (not haiku for "haiku" is a word coined by Shiki hundreds of years later).
There are clues within the poem as to the feeling:
old pond may be an allusion to sameness
frog kanji used in the idiom "like father like son" refering to same old same old again emphasizing "oldness"
the "leap" or "jump" has change associated with the idea
"water's sound or note" might be an allusiong to change for water is associated with change and sound a mark of epiphany?
So... although on the "surface" this poem is about the sound of frog in an old pond as the results of jumping, Bashou may have been conveying many layers of meaning and feeling in the context of his times.
Then again... its just Bashou at an old scum covered pond enjoying the sound of frog jumps into the water... a muffled note as the frog hits the surface scum rather than if hitting a clean new pond?
ciao...
Finally - someone to discuss with, this ;D
The difficulty with this translation resides in modern definitions vs the ancient context in which the verse was written. Speaking from a modern perspective then yes, very simplified verse ... exploring the ancient definitions however, reveals perhaps something more, and too the influence over Basho of Saigyō Hōshi.
From speaking with a Professor at Sheffield university in England, i learned a few things about the language and definitions of the words used in the original verse. Was shocked to learn there was no frog but rather only allusion to an unspecified water creature, but certainly no frog.
The words used to describe an ancient pond - in original context, imply comparison to the universe, and of how there may a appear a surface stillness, yet much goes on beneath - along with actual instruction to - behold this (in awe).
The sound of water, speaks of contrast between a "leaping" into said universe; a momentary silence; and then the sound of entry into the universe (or pool of life); which results in some unspecified musical event that is new and yet eternal as time itself, like a splash of water.
Isn't that something?
Basho's frog--
four hundred years
of ripples
Basho was a very modern person for his time and would have slotted into present time reasonably easily.
Old pond was a style changing hokku allowing haikai to move onward.
Alan
Quote from: asa-gao on August 14, 2011, 08:51:08 AM
Finally - someone to discuss with, this ;D
The difficulty with this translation resides in modern definitions vs the ancient context in which the verse was written. Speaking from a modern perspective then yes, very simplified verse ... exploring the ancient definitions however, reveals perhaps something more, and too the influence over Basho of Saigyō Hōshi.
From speaking with a Professor at Sheffield university in England, i learned a few things about the language and definitions of the words used in the original verse. Was shocked to learn there was no frog but rather only allusion to an unspecified water creature, but certainly no frog.
The words used to describe an ancient pond - in original context, imply comparison to the universe, and of how there may a appear a surface stillness, yet much goes on beneath - along with actual instruction to - behold this (in awe).
The sound of water, speaks of contrast between a "leaping" into said universe; a momentary silence; and then the sound of entry into the universe (or pool of life); which results in some unspecified musical event that is new and yet eternal as time itself, like a splash of water.
Isn't that something?
LOVE this Al ... yes indeed!! Well done :-))
Quote from: al fogel on August 14, 2011, 08:59:06 AM
Basho's frog--
five centuries and the old pond
still rippling
Yes .. moving on with the kinship, and under the influence of Saigyō Hōshi .. which is quite a revelation in and of itself .. i'm thinking ....
Quote from: Alan Summers on August 14, 2011, 09:10:08 AM
Basho was a very modern person for his time and would have slotted into present time reasonably easily.
Old pond was a style changing hokku allowing haikai to move onward.
Alan
Quote from: asa-gao on August 14, 2011, 08:51:08 AM
Finally - someone to discuss with, this ;D
The difficulty with this translation resides in modern definitions vs the ancient context in which the verse was written. Speaking from a modern perspective then yes, very simplified verse ... exploring the ancient definitions however, reveals perhaps something more, and too the influence over Basho of Saigyō Hōshi.
From speaking with a Professor at Sheffield university in England, i learned a few things about the language and definitions of the words used in the original verse. Was shocked to learn there was no frog but rather only allusion to an unspecified water creature, but certainly no frog.
The words used to describe an ancient pond - in original context, imply comparison to the universe, and of how there may a appear a surface stillness, yet much goes on beneath - along with actual instruction to - behold this (in awe).
The sound of water, speaks of contrast between a "leaping" into said universe; a momentary silence; and then the sound of entry into the universe (or pool of life); which results in some unspecified musical event that is new and yet eternal as time itself, like a splash of water.
Isn't that something?
Quote from: asa-gao on August 14, 2011, 08:51:08 AM
Finally - someone to discuss with, this ;D
The difficulty with this translation resides in modern definitions vs the ancient context in which the verse was written. Speaking from a modern perspective then yes, very simplified verse ... exploring the ancient definitions however, reveals perhaps something more, and too the influence over Basho of Saigyō Hōshi.
From speaking with a Professor at Sheffield university in England, i learned a few things about the language and definitions of the words used in the original verse. Was shocked to learn there was no frog but rather only allusion to an unspecified water creature, but certainly no frog.
The words used to describe an ancient pond - in original context, imply comparison to the universe, and of how there may a appear a surface stillness, yet much goes on beneath - along with actual instruction to - behold this (in awe).
The sound of water, speaks of contrast between a "leaping" into said universe; a momentary silence; and then the sound of entry into the universe (or pool of life); which results in some unspecified musical event that is new and yet eternal as time itself, like a splash of water.
Isn't that something?
Well... asa-gao san, I think there is nothing "certain" about the poem (which is the mark of a masterpiece and classic). So, I must disagree about the uncertainty of the frog or toad. Some critics have pointed out this was most likely a memory from Bashou based upon him being near a pond or pool near one of his many transient "huts". Surely, there is a certain degree of ambiguity as to one or many frogs/toads (most likely a frog as toads do not live in ponds), just as "hachi" 蜂 can mean bee or wasp (totally different insects) you may notice the first kanji in the combination similar to 蛙, too!? At any rate, your professor's suggestion excluding "frog" as a possible candidate is (with respect) misguided, I feel.
I get the feeling that like the asagao of Chiyo-ni's famous verse (which she later lamented its popularity) the kawazu of Bashou might be over analyzed and if we ever have a time machine that allows returning to the past, might find, it's simply a poem about pond noise! ;D
ciao...
Said professor, is one of a very very few to keep an art of antiquity alive. And while i can well understand the shocking revelation, that this verse contains no frog .. the fact does remain that, in the language of the time in which the verse was written ... the definition at that time, was an unspecified allusion to a water creature - perhaps a minnow, but at the time of writing - this word was not used for frog. Frog (by modern translation) or minnow (of antiquity) ... it really does not matter, imo, outside of a little known fact. Greater is - the ideas, under influence of Hōshi, that is fact. I have always felt that the over simplification of something grander, has been a bit of a loss.
If in the end, there are two camps; one seeing a pond and noise ... and the other seeing something else - i'll be over in station #2 :-)))
Quote from: chibi575 on August 14, 2011, 10:54:21 AM
Quote from: asa-gao on August 14, 2011, 08:51:08 AM
Finally - someone to discuss with, this ;D
The difficulty with this translation resides in modern definitions vs the ancient context in which the verse was written. Speaking from a modern perspective then yes, very simplified verse ... exploring the ancient definitions however, reveals perhaps something more, and too the influence over Basho of Saigyō Hōshi.
From speaking with a Professor at Sheffield university in England, i learned a few things about the language and definitions of the words used in the original verse. Was shocked to learn there was no frog but rather only allusion to an unspecified water creature, but certainly no frog.
The words used to describe an ancient pond - in original context, imply comparison to the universe, and of how there may a appear a surface stillness, yet much goes on beneath - along with actual instruction to - behold this (in awe).
The sound of water, speaks of contrast between a "leaping" into said universe; a momentary silence; and then the sound of entry into the universe (or pool of life); which results in some unspecified musical event that is new and yet eternal as time itself, like a splash of water.
Isn't that something?
Well... asa-gao san, I think there is nothing "certain" about the poem (which is the mark of a masterpiece and classic). So, I must disagree about the uncertainty of the frog or toad. Some critics have pointed out this was most likely a memory from Bashou based upon him being near a pond or pool near one of his many transient "huts". Surely, there is a certain degree of ambiguity as to one or many frogs/toads (most likely a frog as toads do not live in ponds), just as "hachi" 蜂 can mean bee or wasp (totally different insects) you may notice the first kanji in the combination similar to 蛙, too!? At any rate, your professor's suggestion excluding "frog" as a possible candidate is (with respect) misguided, I feel.
I get the feeling that like the asagao of Chiyo-ni's famous verse (which she later lamented its popularity) the kawazu of Bashou might be over analyzed and if we ever have a time machine that allows returning to the past, might find, it's simply a poem about pond noise! ;D
ciao...
asa-gao san,
I certainly feel a "leap" of faith to believe there is no frog when Bashou himself alluded later to such, I believe; and, this is neither an and or nor to have two schools of thoughts on this mulilayered poem. I know it is a bit of an initiation in Japan to discuss just how many frogs (or possibly minnow or pond denizen) there were in Bashou's famous poem. In fact, in the museum dedicated to Edo in Tokyo, representing Bashou's frog looks more a toad! The antiquity of fact merges to myth in this case.
What was your intial "feel" when you first read or heard Bashou's poem?
I have to admit mine was complete dismay on how this poem could have ever leaped into notoriety as a master level poem. Yet, as more an more I read and acquired expierences associated with the poem did I get a "forced" depth.
ciao...
for those who read Japanese, here is a bit about the use of kawazu in normal language, in poetry, in the town of Edo and in the Japanese rural areas . . .
Gabi
(living in rural Japan with many kawazu and kaeru and Karl-Kun)
＞１、古い時代、「かはづ」と「かえる」はどう区別されていたのか？
歌語(かご)と古語と俗語
「主として和歌をよむ時だけに用いる言葉。鶴(つる)に対する「たづ」、蛙(かえる)に対する「かはづ」など」(小学館「国語大辞典」)
1)かはきぎす(川雉(子))
川で「きぎ」と雉(きじ＜古名＞ぎぎし／きぎす)のように鳴く河鹿蛙／かわず。別名：金襖子(きんおうし)／錦襖子(きんおうし)／石鶏(せきけい)。(東京堂「類語辞典」)
2)かはづ(川津)
万葉集では「鳴川津(なくかはづ)」は「石本去らず(澄んだ川瀬の石の下)」であり、「川津妻(かわづつま)」も「上つ瀬に(澄んだ川上の浅瀬で)」であり、川瀬のとおり澄んだ河鹿蛙の鳴き声が詠われている。(東京堂「古典読解辞典」)
3)かいろ
「牡鹿が雌鹿を恋い慕って鳴く声を、古くは「かひよ(カイヨ)」と聞き取ったが、これを「帰ろ」の意にとりなしていったもの。」(「古語大辞典」)
4)かへら／かへる／かいる(蛙)
蛙の古語、川雉子とも。「田火(でんか)／玉芝(ぎょくし)／風蛤(ふうこう)／活東(かつとう)／かわず」(東京堂「古典読解辞典」)
雄雉のキギと鳴く、あるいは牡鹿のカイヨと求愛する声に近いことから、澄んだ川辺での鳴き声のきれいな蛙を、特にかわづとして歌語にしたものでしょうか。そういう意味からすれば、「蛙の目借時」という季語も、実は川津の雌狩(めかり)、あるいは媾離(めかり)時なのかも知れません。
＞２、芭蕉や一茶の時代はどう区別していたのか？
近世前期を代表する俳諧作法書「毛吹草」(岩波文庫)の「巻第三 付合」のリストの中では、「蛙(かへる)」の項には「蛇(くちなは）、梢(こずゑ)、井戸、仙人、月、蜒(なめくじり)」が、一方「樂(がく)」の項に「鶯、蛙(かはづ)、天王寺、住吉、行幸、法事、神前」とある。従って、日常・生活上での蛙は「かへる」であり、特にその音楽的な鳴き声を採るときは「かはづ」ということなのでしょうか。
初蛙／遠蛙／昼蛙／夕蛙などは「かはづ」と読むが、その他の「痩せ蛙」など、その一般的な特徴では「かへる」もしくは「かいる」ということでしょう。
この「毛吹草」には、「巻第五 春」で6句、更に「追加題目録 春」の部で9句、都合15句の「蛙」の歌が載っていますが、その大半は「今よむも古歌の心や引かへる」の例のように「かへる」と読んだ方が望ましい具合です。
なお「芭蕉の句に出てくる古池の蛙は、殿様蛙か土蛙で、足音が近づくとすぐ水に飛び込む」と。(角川小辞典「入門歳時記」)
当時、「かはづ」と呼ぶ人と「かえる」と呼ぶ人がいて、江戸っ子、町人は「かはづ」、地方や農民は「かえる」が多かった？
前田勇編「江戸語の辞典」によれば、
かいる【蛙】（「かへる 」の訛）口語としては室町時代以降これが普通。訛って「かいろ」「けれろ」とも。
「かいるのつらへみず」「かいるが鳴くよ、おいら内へかいろ」「蟇(かへる)ひとひよこ三(み)ひょこひょこ」「帰(かへ)ろひょこひょこ三ひょこひょこ」
方言ですと「がーた」(徳島)「ぎゃく」(新潟)「たんがく」(福岡)「びき」(青森)「ごんのー」(駿河)など実に多彩です。
and a lot more interesting stuff:
quoted from http://soudan1.biglobe.ne.jp/qa3066121.html
.
My collection of "mizu no oto" information
http://haikutopics.blogspot.com/2006/06/sound-of-water.html
.
I have to admit my first "feel" was very much like yours. Bothered me a great deal. I went about looking deeper and did find a university professor well schooled in the ancient language as it was used at the time the verse was written .. and from there have formed some controversial opinions, in light of what has always been accepted. I've written to the Professor to ask for clarification and permission to share his answer in forum. Just received an automated response that he is away till the 16th.
I know it sounds crazy - but maybe it is possible that the antiquated interpretation of the original penning is not quite the same as the more modern interpretation/translation developed many years after the original penning. If the professor allows it - will share his comments here.
Quote from: chibi575 on August 14, 2011, 08:47:30 PM
asa-gao san,
I certainly feel a "leap" of faith to believe there is no frog when Bashou himself alluded later to such, I believe; and, this is neither an and or nor to have two schools of thoughts on this mulilayered poem. I know it is a bit of an initiation in Japan to discuss just how many frogs (or possibly minnow or pond denizen) there were in Bashou's famous poem. In fact, in the museum dedicated to Edo in Tokyo, representing Bashou's frog looks more a toad! The antiquity of fact merges to myth in this case.
What was your intial "feel" when you first read or heard Bashou's poem?
I have to admit mine was complete dismay on how this poem could have ever leaped into notoriety as a master level poem. Yet, as more an more I read and acquired expierences associated with the poem did I get a "forced" depth.
ciao...
One more comes to mind
『古池に蛙は飛びこんだか』
長谷川 櫂
Did the frog jump into the old pond?
by Hasagawa Kai
http://gendaihaiku.com/hasegawa/index.html
Gabi
I am looking forward to your professor's explanation (if he gives permission).
For all I know it was a kappa no haikai no ku! ;D ::)
Al and Gabi ... thanks for the notes and comments.
If I may refer to the Introduction p15 of Haruo Shirane's "Traces of Dreams" (c) 1998:
"According to one source, Kikaku (1661-1707), one of Bashou's disciples, suggested that Bashou use yamabuki ya (globeflower!) in the opening phrase, which would have left Bashou's hokku within the circle of classical associations. Instead Bashou worked against what was considered the "poeic essence" (bon'i), the established classical associations, of the frog. In place of the plaintive voice of the frog singing in the rapids or calling out for his lover, Bashou gave the sound of the frog jumping into the water. And instead of the elegant image of a frog in a fresh mountain stream beneath the globeflower (yamabuki), the hokku presented a stagnant pond. Almost eight years later, in 1789, Buson (1716-83), an admirer of Bashou, offered this poetic meta-commentary.
jumping in
and washing off an old poem --
a frog
tobikonde | furu-uta | arau | kawazu | kana
jumping-in | old-poem | wash | frog | !
Bashou's frog, leaping into the water, washed off the old associations of the frog with classical poetry, thus establishing a new perspective. At the same time, Bashou's hokku gave a fresh twist to the seasonal associaion of the frog with spring: the sudden movement of the frog, which suggests the awakening of life in spring, stands in contrast to the implicit winter stillness of the old pond."
Some have criticized Professor Haruo Shirane for over analyzing, but, I find his words insightfully reasonable. Please note, Kikaku and Buson, rely on the interpretation of Bashou's "kawazu" to be a frog. Seems a preponderance of interpretation might weigh towards the noise maker in question to be in fact frog(s) jump into water? I would question whether Bashou's original a hokku, but rather, a haikai no ku (composed in a poet gathering for the purpose of haikai no ku rather than haikai no renga) as I have yet to see evidence that the old pond poem was included in a haikai no renga. Does this make a difference? I intuit, yes, but, have little evidence to discern such.
ciao...
Hey Chibi,
Shirane has produced a fabulous book in Traces of Dreams. It's a must have in my opinion. It is very clear that Buson accepted Bashou's kawazu as indeed a frog(s). I imagine if Bashou is reincarnated this exchange between them will continue! I can only imagine the third poem (by Bashou) and what it would be. I think Bashou needs to hurry back if he's going to. Yet, if he returns as a frog, how will his poem proceed then?
and, for fun:
kawazu
do you wash your hands
of this dilema? (don)
LOL
best to ya,
Don
Kaneko Tohta has some interesting things to say about the poem:
"Of the three poems mentioned above, I would like to speak a little about the one by Basho. When he wrote "the sound of water," Basho did something new. Until then, Japanese poets had only written about the croaking of frogs. Basho's use of the sound made when the frog entered the water was revolutionary. Indeed, we can call it a present to the world of haiku. In this haiku, the pond - "the old pond" - occupies the most important part. How prosaic it would have been if he had written "the old swamp." And I don't know if anything like "the old sea" exists. Therefore, "the old pond" is a very fitting expression.
By the way, foreigners usually look at the old pond in the poem very philosophically. I don't agree. The old pond is muddy, filled with algae, the water in it hardly ever moving. Not clear, it reflects the sunshine, and there are bugs jumping in it. That is what the "old pond" is like. I insist that with such an old pond, I can hear the splash of a frog. It jumped in somewhere. When I hear this sound, I imagine the old pond. The combination of these two - the old pond and the sound made by the splash - forms the world of the haiku. After this, each reader receives his own image.
The reason this haiku interests me so much is because I perceive animism here. "Animism" is a dangerous expression, but I have followed the dictionary's meaning. I think that Basho feels that each living thing is important and that it possesses a soul. Indeed, Basho's animism appears in "the old pond." Frankly, I want to emphasize his sensitivity toward living creatures."
(http://www.haiku-hia.com/tohta_k_en.html (http://www.haiku-hia.com/tohta_k_en.html)
What strikes me as important from what Tohta mentions is that Bashō did something new, something fresh, something radical/revolutionary, something non-traditional, something unforseen with this poem. Perhaps some at the time asked the question: Why is this hokku? It breaks the rules.
It also seems important to note that this poem is not based on direct experience but a combination of experience and imagination, composition, editing, fusion. From page 140 of Makoto Ueda's Bashō and His Interpreters, it is noted that it was not a pond but a river Bashō heard the sound. The first line/part was not written. "the mountain roses" was suggested by a student. But he chose "the old pond" for its simplicity and substance. And for the reasons above: for its newness and its resistance to tradition, in order to expand that tradition.
Also, Ogiwara Seisensui, in writing about his concepts of free verse haiku in the early 20th c. writes extensively about this poem. He felt the first line was "superfluous" and "proposed changing the poem to:
a frog leaps in—
the water's sound
Here is his explanation:
What motivated Bashō to write this haiku was the sound of a frog jumping in, nothing more." He felt the poem in just a "two line" form expresses the poet's feeling better. "Seisensui peculated that even a master poet like Bashō fell victim to his own conventional idea of form and conceived a weak first line when he wrote the frog haiku. In Seisensui's view, the poem shows the need for breaking down the 5-7-5 pattern" (Modern Japanese Poets and the Nature of Poetry, Makoto Ueda, chapter seven).
Gabi mentioned Hasegawa Kai's discussion of this ku. Kai mentions how this ku "offers us several relevant contemporary topics". His ideas are exciting i think. One: that this ku is a combination of elements, a combination of realities: one of the imagination. The frog/s was/were not seen but heard. The old pond was not there but imagined: "the vision of the old pond arose in his mind". Also: "it juxtaposes two different material dimensions": the objective and the imaginative. "Read in this way, this haiku is not a scene composed of the viewing an object, but rather of listening to sounds, and furthermore, Bashō composed this ku via active imagination (the haiku is not shasei, an objective sketch) . . . This haiku was written 300 years ago and it has been misunderstood for 300 years" (Poems of Consciousness, Richard Gilbert, pp 71-75).
On another note, Kai utilizes this ku when talking about kire (cutting) and how it has three cuts, not just one:
/ old pond / frog(s) jump-in sound of water /
at the beginning and the end. The cuts before and after the ku indicating how it has been "cut from ths reality within which we live—form the literal place/environment/atmosphere ("ba") of literal existence" (77).
re: Scott's comment (of which I completely agree) -
How often have we critiqued someone's poem for being redundant? How many times have poets changed a word here or there to rid the poem of unnecessary words, thematic conflicts and redundancy?
/ old pond / frog(s) jump-in sound of water /
As it so happens, Basho included both water and pond; and, they appear redundant to one another - especially considering they are referencing the same body of water. The thought that line one (as it has been handed down over generations) was thrown in for need to conform (even Basho might have felt that pressure from time to time) makes complete sense, however. There seems to be historicity to support the notion.
And, when pondering:
a frog leaps in –
the water's sound
... what else needed to be said? But wait; the word "old" ... it modifies both water(s) ... in a way. Therefore, it also modifies the sound of the water. Or, does old water and new water sound the same when hit by a frog? Can one be that attuned to know the difference? Was Basho? Rewind ... did he "throw in a line" to conform?? It appears so; and, if so, it worked ... the poem is one of the most famous of all history. Figure that ...
These are a few of the questions; not, whether or not there was a frog. That's a given at this point.
Just rambling ... and pondering ... to no end, I suppose ... other than it's entirely fascinating.
Don
I have always felt that "old pond" also applied to the poetic community of the time, with its over-reliance on accepted norms, tradition, and dogma. An idea which fits nicely with Basho's shift away from said tradition in his new use of frog, and works well with the stagnation that Scott sees. So in that case, I think the first line is needed.
Paul
I agree Paul ... and, that's an interesting take that should not be overlooked.
For what it's worth, I found something about the meaning of 'kawazu' online on a blog called "No-sword", posted by Matt Treyvaud (http://no-sword.jp/blog/2007/10/types_of_frogs.html):
Types of frogs
Responding to my Monday post about tadpoles and snails, Thomas asks: "So what's the difference between the two words for frog: kaeru and kawazu?" The common answer is that kawazu is the "old word" that got replaced by the "new word" kaeru, but this is a misconception. It's really just another case of semantic overlap combined with poetic versus everyday register.
It's true that there are no kaeru as such in the Manyōshū -- all the frogs that appear as frogs are kawazu (/kahadu/, at the time). But this is not because the word kaeru had yet to be invented. How do we know this? Because it appears inside other words -- specifically, kaerude (literally "frog hand"), which became the modern word kaerude, maple. Check out this poem by Lady TAMURA (田村大嬢) to her younger sister:
wa ga yado ni/ momitu kaherude/ miru goto ni/ imo wo kaketutu/ kohinu hi ha nasi
吾屋戸尓/ 黄變蝦手/ 毎見/ 妹乎懸管/ 不戀日者無
Every time I see the maple leaves turn in my garden, that day does not exist, O sister, which does not find me longing for your company
Some versions have momituru kahede or some minor variation, but the use of the kanji 蝦, which means "toad" or "big frog", to get the kae(ru) sound is constant. So, the word was there. Why didn't they use it?
One reason was that kaeru was a general word, while the original meaning of kawazu seems to have specifically been "kajika frog". The kajika frog is so called because it lives in rivers (ka(wa)) and has a haunting call like a deer (shika), making it ideal for use in poetry. Virtually all of the Manyōshū poems that include a kawazu specifically refer to its call.
Maybe for this reason, kawazu also seems to have been the preferred word in poetry for frogs in general. There is a word for this in Japanese aesthetics: kago (歌語, "poetry word"). Another good example is references to cranes: the word tsuru is plenty old (some say it came over direct from the continent), but most early poems used the word tazu (たづ) instead. That was the kago.
So maybe kawazu originally meant "kajika frog" in particular, but it didn't take long before it just meant "frog [+poetic]" in general. Meanwhile, kaeru was a perfectly healthy synonym meaning "frog [-poetic]".
Eventually, poetry would be modernized in such a way that people felt quite comfortable using the word kaeru, which left kawazu stranded, gradually shifting towards meaning simply "frog [+archaic]". Kaeru, on the other hand, became simply "frog" (unmarked).
Kawazu would probably have been forgotten by all but the specialists by now (much like tazu) if it weren't for one thing: the Dark Side of the Moon of traditional Japanese poetry, that one haikai by Bashō that everyone knows...
古池や かはづ飛び込む 水の音
Furuike ya/ Kawazu tobikomu/ mizu no oto
Old pond/ Frog jumps in/ Sound of water
Bonus fact: Bashō was actually consciously playing with the kawazu tradition here by attributing the sound to the water rather than the frog. The frog's implied silence, after centuries of naku kawazu, is a crucial part of the stillness that allows the sound of water to make its impact.
P.S. I disagree with Seisensui about the first line of furuike ya being superfluous. Seisensui is being iconoclastic, just as Shiki is in his essay about Furu-ike ya that Blyth translates as Chapter XXVI in A History of Haiku, Vol. Two.
One example of this is Seisensui not applying the same criticism to one of his own 'haiku' that Ueda gives in the same essay mentioned by someone already about Seisensui in chapter 7 of Modern Japanese Poets.
Tanpopo tanpopo sunahama ni haru ga me o hiraku
dandelions
dandelions
on the sandy beach
spring
opens its eyes
--Seisensui, trans. Ueda
(in Modern Japanese Haiku: An Anthology, Ueda gives the third line as: "on the sandy shore---")
Applying Seisensui's critique of furuike ya to his own poem, one could say that the scene-setting phrase "on the sandy beach/shore" (sunahama ni) is equally superfluous. I, on the other hand, have nothing against scene-setting, unless it is totally gratuitous. And I think furuike ya functions as much more than mere scene-setting, although it serves that purpose as well.
A very interesting discussion. I was inspired to add this to my daily haiku chain.
discussions on Basho
all these frogs
one still pond