Hello Judges (and by "judges" I mean anyone who happens to be reading these words - if you're here, I hope you vote and give your reasons!). Are you ready for some Seashell Gaming? In Basho's day little Japanese girls liked to amuse themselves at the beach, collecting shells and then matching them one-on-one in beachcomber beauty contests. Basho applied this technique to haiku in his earliest haibun,
The Seashell Game (
Kai ōi:1672). In that text Basho was the one and only judge, proclaiming his decisions and backing them up with reasons that shed light into the young haiku master's mind. Our game invites the world to play Basho's role, but just as in the 17th century, the important thing is to articulate justification for our choices.
For this round, we return to Japan, but for reasons that I will reveal later on, I won't give the poets' names right away. Let's call them Poet LEFT and Poet RIGHT.
Poet LEFT:
とりやげ婆が右の手也の紅葉哉
toriyagebaba ga migi no te nari no momiji kana
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT:
紅葉ぬと来て見よ樫の枝の露
momijinu to kite miyo kashi no eda no tsuyu
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
The English versions are my translations. Let's give ourselves a week to chat about these haiku (till 2/27/11), at which time I promise a Mystery Guest will weigh in.
based on Peters comments on
Reply #6 on: Today at 01:35:34 AM »
I deleted my post.
I am still struggeling with the Japanese ...
Gabi
紅葉ぬと来て見よ か 樫の枝の露
momijinu to kite miyo kashi no eda no tsuyu
.
Interesting...what is the difference between momiji and momijinu? The -nu at the end of the second word must change the word, but from what to what?
- Lorin
It makes it a negative Lorin. Like Gabi I am struggling with some differences of interpretation. I get the first to be something like
the midwife's right hand
has taken on
all the tints of autumn
and the second to be somewhere in the region of
no autumn tints here
come and see the dew
on the evergreen oak
The only thing I know for sure is that the first poem is 7/7/5. And I've dropped out the word bough/branch in the second poem in order to balance the English (and 'cos I think its a make-weight in the source text). For the rest - I really don't know, although I think the 'green' flag of か樫 (evergreen oak) is important in order to make 'autumn tints' (momiji) work. Or rather 'no autumn tints' (momijinu)
As the Piemontese say: Boh?!
Best wishes, John
based on Peters comments on
Reply #6 on: Today at 01:35:34 AM »
I, for one, intend to respond based on what David has presented. He has said they are "versions", not literal or close translations. I don't know how else to proceed. I'll check in later.
I deleted my post.
Gabi
Quotemaple leaf ... does not show the red momiji - effect, it could be the green leaf in spring/summer .
But in the poem about the midwife, using a translation including "leaf" would make more sense, since one leaf looks very much like the hand of a person - Gabi
Hi Gabi, my understanding was that
momiji as 'maple' (and hence the more direct connotation of
leaf) is usually written in kana: もみじ
Given that one of the synergies between these poems is
momiji , and that we are engaged in the shell game, a counter argument is that it makes most sense for the translations to voice equivalent terms.
Best wishes, John
I, for one, intend to respond based on what David has presented. He has said they are "versions", not literal or close translations. I don't know how else to proceed. I'll check in later.
sorry for treading on the sacrosanct Peter.
bye bye John
Yes, my tone no doubt sounded disapproving and in some measure was. I'm just kinda into these Seashell Games. But mostly, if we are to engage this time around, we need to start somewhere, and it seems like going with David's versions could work. No? (Insert somewhat conciliatory emoticon here).
Hi Everyone,
There was a typo in the Japanese. Gabi alerted me to it, and so I went back and deleted the hiragana "ka" before "kashi" (oak tree).
I don't mind at all if we discuss translation issues, as long as we then steer our attention back to what the poets are saying and then try to judge their work comparatively. Momiji is a challenging word. It can mean:
red leaves
crimson leaves
autumn leaves
autumnal tints
Japanese maple
As a translator, I had to make a choice, so when you read these poems, keep in mind that all of this is suggested.
If these poems seem "retro" compared to the ones we have been looking at so far, this is because they were written in the 17th century. In fact, they are two haiku that appear in the original "Seashell Game" of Basho. I wanted you to see them without knowing this, at first, so that you could form your own opinions--looking at them as if they were written yesterday and submitted to a journal. Which one would you accept for publicaiton? One? Both? Neither? And...the key question: WHY?
You can probably guess by now that our "Mystery Guest" will be Basho, who will give his judgment--later. Let's see if your 21st century thinking matches up with his ideas!
Though it indicates on the ID panel that I am "Global Moderator", this is an error which will be rectified soon. in fact, I aspire more to being Global Dominator, but until this is the case, I hope no one feels a need to modify anything on my behalf.
I respond to poems in a very text-based manner-- exactly what is said, the very words in the order they are used, is all important to me, even with translations. So different translations are essentially different poems for me.
Well, I'll just do the best I can.
coming from the English, I have the following musings:
maple leaf (kaede no ha) ... that could be a green leaf in spring and summer and is not a kigo.
red maple leaf is a kigo, on the other hand.
So maybe the poet is observing a delivery in the garden or the veranda of a home in summer?
. . . . .on the other hand
I remember a haiku set about a red pepper, add some wings and you get a dragonfly ... or worse
a dragonfly, take away the wings and you get a red pepper.
There was a time when poets just wrote clever images.
...
oak branch dew ... I wonder if the Japanese poet just thew in three words without any connection between them.
Dew on the branch of the oak ... now I wonder
Is this one branch with dew (as opposed to all the branches with dew? Why only one?)
. . . . or could it be
dew on the branches of the oak
. . .
red right hand ... I am looking forward to David explaining this !!
Gabi
Poet LEFT:
とりやげ婆が右の手也の紅葉哉
toriyagebaba ga migi no te nari no momiji kana
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT:
紅葉ぬと来て見よ樫の枝の露
momijinu to kite miyo kashi no eda no tsuyu
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
Poet Left:
*On the surface, shasei level, a maple leaf has five 'divisions' which with a little imagination resemble a hand. The midwife's hand in the course of birthing a baby would become bloody. Then there is the contrast between something dying and something being born. Temporality. I don't know what the significance of 'right hand' would be for someone in 17th century Japan and am resisting googling so as to approach the poem on its own merits and within the translation given. But, considering most people are right handed, it may deal with with strength. How would life be brought forth from something dying? Tone is more somber/reflective.
Poet Right:
* Autumn reddening is the beginning of the dying off for winter. I am picturing the poet as male in early middle age when one is still strong (oak) and yet with all the apparent denial of line one, there is the 'dew' on the branch signaling the approach of winter and decline/death.
Poet Left seems to be embracing the cycles of birth and death and their relationship to one another while Poet Right is denying them while at the same time recognizing their inevitability with a certain sadness as in court poetry and 'sleeves wet with dew'?
I am left to wonder if Poet Left and Poet Right might not be the same poet in different moods? Or perhaps it is just that the two poems are taken from the same time period and culture?
Not yet ready to vote. 8)
Note: the following was written while Karen was posting her response. I'll read hers when I've hit the "post" button below.
I now think it was useful that John and Gabi worked a little on the translation. I was impatient, at first, because I thought the thread could get sidetracked, and maybe because I was rather taken up by some thoughts I had on the verb "to become", and didn't want to lose that.
Still, I'll go with what David has presented.
LEFT has a gendai feel to it, maybe because of that verb "becomes", which seems a common usage. As said, I have some thoughts about that which I'll save.
One sense I have of this poem is that any intense experience tends to "color" other experience. The vividness of birth-- the shock of blood on a midwife's hand, will imprint itself for a time so sharply that something like a maple leaf will take on those qualities.
Image: a leaf attached to a tree by its umbilical stem. This is illogical, as a leaf feeds a tree; and a leaf is, microcosmically, fractally, a tree unto itself-- and yet the shock of blood and birth may not incline one to logic.
Image: a red leaf-- about to fall-- about to be delivered to the earth.... And so, the poem seems to say, birth is also a long floating back to the earth-- could take 70 years, or much shorter in old Japan.
Didn't Thoreau say: "nature but patented a leaf" or something like?
RIGHT. I agree more or less with what Melissa has said. It contrasts custom (or stale perception) with freshness. It contrasts, I'm tempted (and will succumb) to say-- the density or solid thingness of a leaf with the transparence and light gathering quality of dew. In other words, it seems to say: go beyond your reified concepts-- orient yourself to what's alive. Well, I like that approach, and may be imposing it.
So we seem to have one poem involving blood, and the other involving water.
I'll come back with my vote later.
And just add now, that I find David's version of LEFT skilful in presenting the shock of blood-- the physicality of it emphasized:
it's beCOME a MIDwife's
RED RIGHT HAND...
MAple leaf
This kind of accenting puts the poem in another category from the original, of course. It's a tool we have available to us, and which goes relatively unused I think.
Quote from: Peter Yovu on February 25, 2011, 10:21:28 AM
I now think it was useful that John and Gabi worked a little on the translation. I was impatient, at first, because I thought the thread could get sidetracked, and maybe because I was rather taken up by some thoughts I had on the verb "to become", and didn't want to lose that.
Still, I'll go with what David has presented.
Well, Peter, what David has actually presented is:
Poet LEFT:
とりやげ婆が右の手也の紅葉哉
toriyagebaba ga migi no te nari no momiji kana
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT:
紅葉ぬと来て見よ樫の枝の露
momijinu to kite miyo kashi no eda no tsuyu
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
---
Each English version of the poems is preceded by the Japanese and
romanji poems. If the idea is that people are
not to take the Japanese into account at all within discussions (both those with no Japanese and those with some) and not to ask questions then it would be clearer to have only the English versions.
The fact that the Japanese and
romanji versions are given is an implicit invitation to those who have Japanese to include the Japanese versions in their consideration of the poems, and an implicit invitation to those, like myself, who do not have Japanese, to ask questions. I'm glad I did ask the question because, over the course of Gabi's, John's and David's responses, I learnt a little...enough to allow me to feel more comfortable in orienting myself to the English versions.
I truly regret that Gabi felt it necessary to delete her comments, since some of the conversation now stands without it's full context. I have a distaste for discussion threads with deleted comments, except when the comments are abusive or just plain off-topic, such as advertisements for oneself.
(two sentences deleted, Sunday, 27th Feb. AEST)
---
Goodness knows what Basho's thinking was when comparing these two, and I look forward to reading about it.
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
... but I will vote now: this is my preferred poem of the two.
It goes beyond the striking image, the comparison of leaf shape and colour with a midwife's hand. A midwife's main job is to deliver babies, assist in birth; her 'right hand' (given that most are right handed, this is a norm, but I also think of the expression 'right hand man' and the sense of 'right hand' being that of one's strongest support) supports the baby's head, and yes, there is blood involved, especially with the afterbirth, the source of all nutrition for the baby up until birth, which the midwife also assists in 'delivering'. That blood is life-blood. Until our modern ages, the afterbirth was buried in the earth where it composted and again provided nutrition, this time for the soil organisms and the green things, the plant life. Or in the case of animals such as even domestic cats, eaten. (Even now, the best way to ensure a good, healthy and fruitful passionfruit vine is to bury an animal's liver beneath the roots of a new plant)
For new leaf buds to develop, old leaves must fall. A red maple leaf, soon to fall, prepares the way for a new birth, a new leaf. Further, it composts, providing nutrition for soil organisms and eventually the tree and the new leaves. The maple leaf, compared to the midwife's right hand, will assist the new leaf birth by falling, then continue to assist by providing nourishment for a new leaf. It actually goes further than a midwife.
Autumn, traditionally a time of a certain sadness about endings, aging, the immanence of cold Winter is incorporated into a meditation on the necessity of endings in the scheme of things in this poem, and the focus is of the 'endings are beginnings' kind, the continuous cycle of life.
---
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
To me, this is the inferior of the two poems. It could be a poem written in answer to the first poem. It speaks of denial in the first line, and the author declares that there is a greater revelation in the sight of dew on an evergreen oak (btw, I did not know there were such things as evergreen oaks until this 'seashell game', so another thing learnt) 'Dew' is a major
kigo for Autumn, and its significance is that of transience. I think especially of Issa's heartbreaking dew poem, written after the death of his child, "and yet...".
This world of dew
is only a world of dew. . .
and yet
- trans. Sam Hamill
Neither of these poems achieve the fullness of humanity in the Issa poem. Poet RIGHT seems to revel in the transience of dew on an evergreen oak (is it something like, "Ha! I can show you something more brief in its transience than autumn leaves and show a contrast with an evergreen tree to boot. Top that!" ?)
Poet LEFT's finding of an identity between a maple leaf that has become red and a midwife's right hand goes further than a superficial (clever) comparison of colour and shape. It's an 'earth poem', aware of the processes by which one thing (midwife, midwife's hand or leaf) ages and dies and yet becomes something else, or really, has always been and continues to be part of something else, life itself and it's processes.
- Lorin
Quote from: Gabi Greve on February 25, 2011, 02:21:05 AM
coming from the English, I have the following musings:
maple leaf (kaede no ha) ... that could be a green leaf in spring and summer and is not a kigo.
red maple leaf is a kigo, on the other hand.
So maybe the poet is observing a delivery in the garden or the veranda of a home in summer?
red right hand ... I am looking forward to David explaining this !!
Gabi
Hi Gabi, ...true that 'maple leaf' alone does not show Autumn, but when one says 'a maple leaf has become a... red hand..., surely that shows that the leaf has become red , and this implies an Autumn leaf?
---
I forgot to say, in my post above, that I very much like the rhythm of this poem in English. It rolls more naturally and rhythmically off the tongue than the 'dew' poem.
- Lorin
Hi Gabi, ...true that 'maple leaf' alone does not show Autumn, but when one says 'a maple leaf has become a... red hand..., surely that shows that the leaf has become red , and this implies an Autumn leaf?
Well, the whole point of Japanese kigo is to state the season, not imply it thoughout the whole text.
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
This makes me wonder why the poet did not use the kigo (check maple leaf in the online dict. it gives kaede no ha)
Did he have a special reason for implying the season as he did? It does not make much difference to the contents, grant you that.
But it makes a difference to the way this haiku would be placed in a Japanese saijiki.
as it is now, it is a zappai (miscellanous) or maybe even a senryu ?
If it were like this, it would be placed in autumn
it's become a midwife's
right hand...
red maple leaf
To me, what this haiku seems to say is simply this :
A red maple leaf reminds me of / looks like / ... the right hand of a midwife.
Gabi
.
Quote from: Gabi Greve on February 25, 2011, 06:50:54 PM
Well, the whole point of Japanese kigo is to state the season, not imply it thoughout the whole text.
Gabi
.
hmmm... my kigo education is far from complete, as you know, Gabi, but will you tell me how, for example "ants out of a hole" states the season? Or (I just did a quick & random scan through the wikipedia article, to save time) how "sea-devil stew" (ankō nabe) states the season?
To my mind, most of the
kigo imply the season, including those two I mention above and the old faithfuls, "moon viewing" and "distant thunder".
What I'm inferring, though, is that you mean that once a word or phrase has officially become a
kigo, , that is, listed in a
saijiki, the game is to incorporate that word or phrase precisely as it's listed.
But can poetry be reduced to such a game? And if we regard haiku as poetry, then can we apply such strict parlour game rules to it?
- Lorin
What I'm inferring, though, is that you mean that once a word or phrase has officially become a kigo, , that is, listed in a saijiki, the game is to incorporate that word or phrase precisely as it's listed.
But can poetry be reduced to such a game?
And if we regard haiku as poetry, then can we apply such strict parlour game rules to it?
As to your first statement, yes, that is what I wanted to say. Sorry my German mind takes over sometimes and my explanation was not clear enough.
As for your question, I can not answer for what "WE" feel.
All I can say is that traditional Japanese haiku works that way,
it is formal poetry and adheres to the form (5 7 5 , one kigo, one cut marker).
Many haiku poets up till our time have used this form and still love to use it.
If "WE" think that makes it a "parlour game", so be it.
Gabi
Talking about "parlor games" . . .
the seashell game is such a game.
The poets present at a meeting are asked to write about a certain theme, usually a kigo
In this game, it was momiji . . .
LEFT choose to compare the red autumn leaves to the hand of a midwive.
RIGHT chooses to write about the absence of it.
It is now up to the judge to decide which one is better or worse, more imaginative or whatever criteria are used to decide such a game.
Enjoy your decisionmaking.
Gabi
I would like (and truly hope) to make a couple of things clear: I am not a "global moderator"-- that's Jim Kacian. The designation is there (on the panel to the left of the my posts) by mistake, and as I said in a prior post, that will be rectified.
If anyone thought I was in any position to direct this thread in any way, that is a misperception possibly bolstered by my first post, which I copy and italicize here:
I, for one, intend to respond based on what David has presented. He has said they are "versions", not literal or close translations. I don't know how else to proceed. I'll check in later.
This was only meant to express what at that moment was a feeling of frustration (which I admitted in a later post) which I soon recognized in itself could put a crimp in the discussion. It was meant as a suggestion, though I was heavy handed about it. When I said "I'll check in later" I only meant I was not prepared at that moment to go on with some thoughts about the poems, but would come back to do that.
David came in and made his intentions clear, and I stood corrected.
I try my best to be clear, especially as I recognize that things like "tone" can easily be lost or misread in communications such as these.
If anyone wishes to discuss this further, please contact me by email. I'll add that I'm thankful for a private conversation I have had about this which helped me understand what may have happened. Thanks.
hmmm...I think see what you mean as far as 'seashell game' goes, Gabi. Yes, I know it originated in a parlour game which paired shells, similar to some of the card games many of us played as kids. But I've heard that that Basho raised it to a level of critical comparison and a way of teaching. I haven't read his 'seashell games' writings, though. Not even sure if they've been translated.
So, is what you're saying something like, "Because these two poems, as translated, don't have precisely same stated kigo, they can't legitimately be compared in a traditional, Basho-style 'seashell game'?
- Lorin
ah, Peter, thanks for the enlightenment.
So we don't need to treat you as if you were a galactic overlord or the like, then? ;D
I must say that combination of 'Global Moderator' combined with that alien-looking cat or alligator eye glinting at one from the left hand border was a tad intimidating.
Thanks for explaining!
- Lorin
So, is what you're saying something like, "Because these two poems, as translated, don't have precisely same stated kigo, they can't legitimately be compared in a traditional, Basho-style 'seashell game'?
I think this is an English Language Sea Shell Game,
David has presented some haiku in original English and some translated from other languages, including Japanese so far.
If he thinks they can be compared, that is fine with me.
Whether the translations can be improved or not is a different question, maybe to be discussed in a thread about translations.
Poet LEFT:
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT:
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
Gabi
I suppose by now you know that I am game for ... a game and am generally a good sport, despite not being terribly "good" at games (or sports). But I am a trier. :)
Ahem.
Poet LEFT:
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT:
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
I choose poet LEFT.
Because? The poet has thought about the observation and the poem feels as though there is plenty of back story, tragedy probably. I'm swimming in tragedy just now, along with all the 4m people that live in my country, but especially those who are dying, injured, grieving and frightened in Christchurch.
This poem speaks to me (that is, the fibre of what is me, to my waters). It is about elemental things, earth, air, fire. It is true and it is about the core of being a human. I am a woman who has given birth and who has been in the care of a midwife for the delivery. This is my poem.
The other is someone showing off - look! - (don't tell me what to do, mate, I'll look if I want to). And the poetry seems mundane. "oak branch dew", pah! Send him back to write out poem LEFT 500 times.
Vote cast.
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
It's curious as to why "left" didn't write it this way:
it's become a midwife's
right hand ...
red maple leaf
To me, that would have cinched it. But, as it stands, it feels awkward, though less so in some way as compared to "right".
"Right" on the other hand, as mentioned, has an awkward rhythm to it and is lacking in anything really interesting. I do like simple observations ... but I don't think the poem settles well there either.
To me: they're a tie! No vote for either! Let Basho call it! :)
Don
" I'm swimming in tragedy just now, along with all the 4m people that live in my country, but especially those who are dying, injured, grieving and frightened in Christchurch."
...and no doubt, there will be women giving birth in the midst of it all, too. I've been following the news of the Christchurch earthquake, Sandra. Pleased to know you're not among the dead or injured, but of course it's a great shock and ongoing stress for all of you.
best wishes,
- Lorin
Yes, my vote to poem LEFT for being the more organic-- for locating the human in a context of nature, and nature in the context of humanity-- an intersubjecivity.
Poet LEFT: "real" name Sanboku
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT: "real" name Dasoku
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
I put "real" in quotes since these were their made-up haiku names, just as "Basho" was.
Here's what Basho had to say about these two haiku, as translated by Makoto Ueda in
Matsuo Basho (Tokyo: Kodansha, 1970) 149.
The first poem employs a unique conceit in dealing with the subject of colored leaves. The second is well said, but it shows the poet to be a man of queer tastes: he likes a colorless oak tree and has no liking for the world of colors. The first poem suggests, with its lines about a midwife's red right hand, that the poet is well versed both in the art of love and in the skill of giving birth to vigorous language. It ranks thousands of leagues above the second poem. Therefore, if invited to come and look at such a happy product, the writer of the oak poem should withdraw his wooden sword and flee.
What do you think of Basho's judgment--both its content and tone? Does it tell us anything about our view of haiku in the 21st century? Are we still playing the Seashell Game by the same rules--or have the rules of what constitutes a good haiku changed over the past 339 years?
Here's what Basho had to say about these two haiku, as translated by Makoto Ueda in Matsuo Basho (Tokyo: Kodansha, 1970) 149.
Dear David,
could you also post the translations of Ueda for both of the haiku in this game?
It would be much appreciated, since I do not posess the book.
Thanks so much !
Gabi
Sure, Gabi. Here is Ueda's translation of the two haiku, FYI:
How like it is to
A midwife's right hand--
Crimson maple leaf!
"I haven't crimsoned.
Come and look! So says the dew
On an oak branch.
Whow, thanks for sharing indeed !
Gabi
How like it is to
A midwife's right hand--
Crimson maple leaf!
"I haven't crimsoned.
Come and look!" So says the dew
On an oak branch.
David
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
.
Quote from: David Lanoue on February 28, 2011, 07:22:59 AM
Poet LEFT: "real" name Sanboku
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
Poet RIGHT: "real" name Dasoku
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
I put "real" in quotes since these were their made-up haiku names, just as "Basho" was.
Here's what Basho had to say about these two haiku, as translated by Makoto Ueda in Matsuo Basho (Tokyo: Kodansha, 1970) 149.
The first poem employs a unique conceit in dealing with the subject of colored leaves. The second is well said, but it shows the poet to be a man of queer tastes: he likes a colorless oak tree and has no liking for the world of colors. The first poem suggests, with its lines about a midwife's red right hand, that the poet is well versed both in the art of love and in the skill of giving birth to vigorous language. It ranks thousands of leagues above the second poem. Therefore, if invited to come and look at such a happy product, the writer of the oak poem should withdraw his wooden sword and flee.
What do you think of Basho's judgment--both its content and tone? Does it tell us anything about our view of haiku in the 21st century? Are we still playing the Seashell Game by the same rules--or have the rules of what constitutes a good haiku changed over the past 339 years?
Hi David,
My apologies for coming back to this a bit late.
It's fascinating to read Basho's judgment! And interesting that, although phrased differently (and more succinctly and confidently) that Basho's conclusions are not unlike those of ours, who participated in this 'seashell game'.
Quite what to make of the tone I'm not certain, but I'll hazard a guess that it's a humorous tone and used in the context of a group of people who trust his judgment and are not too thin-skinned. One thing Basho had going for him that we don't, in ELH and on the internet, is a shared culture and a shared vernacular. I'll even hazard a guess that there are sexual innuendos and playful jibes in Basho's commentary that would have some contemporary blokes (unless they were in a group who knew each other well, where anything goes) furious about 'insults to their manhood'.
I can see that Basho might've well been much loved for his playful humour. :D
- Lorin
- Lorin
...and I must add, the comparison between David's English versions and Ueda's, is revealing, too.
How like it is to
A midwife's right hand--
Crimson maple leaf!
"I haven't crimsoned.
Come and look!" So says the dew
On an oak branch.
- Ueda
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
no autumn reddening for me -
come look!
oak branch dew
- David
To me, 'it's become a midwife's red right hand' is stronger than 'How like it is to
A midwife's right hand', as well as fulfilling the EL haiku norm of "showing, not telling", whilst "I haven't crimsoned" is painfully awkward and embarrassingly 'cute' in English, whatever it might be in Japanese.
The comparison shows, to me, that a translator needs to keep the contemporary audience as well as the target language (the language something is being translated into) in mind.
"crimsoned" ! We might've been able to get away with it in the C17.
- Lorin
Poets participating in David's sea-shell games may be interested in reading a new article by John Carley on the trials and tribulations of translation from Japanese to English. Read it here:
http://www.poetrysociety.org.nz/monthlyarticle
Best,
Sandra
Great link. Thanks!
Don
I appreciate your reflections, Lorin. Indeed, our 21st century judgment was, for the most part, closely in tune with Basho's. The midwife's bloody hand is a strong and daring image. I'm a little surprised that no one questioned the use of metaphor--a rhetorical ploy that is out of fashion in EL haiku these days. Maybe we forgive the leap from midwife's hand to the autumn leaves because the juxtaposition is so striking and original. Maybe Basho felt the same way. Still, there's a problem with metaphor, even a bold one like Sanboku's: for me, as a reader, there's too much cleverness in it--akin to the use of rhyme but not quite as bad--that pulls me away from the moment and into a consciousness of the poet's wit. As such the poem puts artifice in the foreground instead of hiding it in the background, as great poets (from Basho on down to 2011) have done. I have a feeling that this poem, even though it's the better of the two, wouldn't be accepted for publication today.
I thank all of you for participating in these Seashell Games. If you feel like adding more thoughts, please do. Otherwise, we can all pat ourselves on the backs for a job well done: a high-level discussion that (as I think I've said before) made me feel like I was in a graduate seminar--the kind of course that I wish had existed back when I was a grad student. Ah well, better late than never.
Speaking of late, as I write this it's approaching 3:00 a.m. on Mardi Gras morning. The partying throngs (who woke me two hours ago) must have crawled back into their holes until tomorrow. Happy Carnival to all! Perhaps, tomorrow when I'm watching the Rex parade and screaming for beads, an idea for the next Periplum topic will conk me on the head like a Zulu coconut. We shall see!
Sorry, I've been out of laptop range attending the American Crafts Council in Baltimore, MD. If I'm too late sorry but I pick left because it tracks well in the Japanese to me:
My pick... left
とりやげ婆が右の手也の紅葉哉
toriyagebaba ga migi no te nari no momiji kana
it's become a midwife's
red right hand...
maple leaf
My paraverse:
Not sure about "toriyagebaba"... parts put together seem to be involving an old woman (baba) possibly a mid-wife, but, I guess I like the translation though it's difficult.
the old woman's
right hand turns red!
autumn colors
It makes sense to have the "baba" performing as mid-wife, but, I just don't know.
Hi Chibi san, I just posted this on another thread
toriyage baba :
this is either a mis-spelling or an old version of toriage baba 取り上げ婆 ... tori ageru - taking out and lifting up .. what a midwife does with a newborn baby. baba here could refere to any woman of this profession, does not have to be an old one. But in the Edo period, most elderly woman tended to the younger ones, because they had more experience.
Gabi
You might be interested in reading further here
http://www.thehaikufoundation.org/forum_sm/sails/sailing-14-what-kind-of-sword-do-you-carry/
.
Thanks for your thoughts, Chibi, and I thank you for the correction, Gabi. I copied the romaji from Ueda's book. Perhaps he had a typo: "toriyage" for "tori-age." He didn't supply the Japanese text, so I based this on the romaji.
So, to set the record straight, here's what I think the original haiku must have looked like:
とりあげ婆が右の手也の紅葉哉
toriagebaba ga migi no te nari no momiji kana
it's become a midwife's
red right hand . . .
maple leaf
Sanboku