i'd like to throw out a bunch more examples in this reply (my apologies if they are too many) that i think relate to transformation. Lorin used the word "metamorphosis" and perhaps i should have used that in the first place, as i like how it relates as an allusion with Franz Kafka's novella "The Metamorphosis"—a completely implausible tale, but, nevertheless, extremely emotional and a fantastical journey of relationships, family, social class, love, etc. Not that anyone is necessarily saying this, but haiku can do this too. The implausible is rich territory to explore with our ku. As said by someone or other, sometimes the fictional is far more real than the "true".
Two quick notes first before more examples of more metamorphoses.
i feel that Jack is right in that the Tohta ku is a metaphor, and i like John's association with "rebellion". Here is another translation of it that makes the metaphor/simile obvious:
After hateful words,
I roar off
like a motorcycle.
(tr. by Lucian Stryk)
Fay notes that her 'swan' ku in issue 28.2 (2005) of Frogpond was inspired in part by another poem, which i think gives her poem more depth, playing with both the vertical (past) and horizontal (present) axes simultaneously:
my wife on New Year's Eve
taking a bath
as though she is a swan
—Sumio Mori
New Year's bath—
I fail to become
a swan
—Fay Aoyagi
One poet i found again yesterday in looking for more examples who writes a lot about metamorphosis, or transfiguration (as Ueda notes), is Mitsuhashi Takajo. Her years are 1899-1972. Very much the 20th c poetess. Some examples:
climb this tree
and you'll be a she-devil—
red leaves in the sunset glow
up on a hydro pole
the electrician turns
into a cicada
the southerly wind
becoming a peacock
challenges death
the aged person
wanting to become a tree
embraces a tree
(all tr. by Makoto Ueda in his anthology *Far Beyond the Field*)
Other examples i found from this anthology:
turned into blossoms
or drops of dew?
this morning's snow
—Chiyojo
inhaling urban dust
and turning it into flesh
a carp-shaped banner
—Takeshita Shizunojo
having eaten a lizard
how carefully the cat
licks its own body!
—Hashimoto Takako
faces with no mask
turned into masked faces
around the fire
—Uda Kiyoko
white leek
turned into light beam
now being cut up
—Kuroda Momoko
Some examples of English-language ku i like:
white raven
being this . . .
and that
Robert F. Mainone
*One* reading of this one by Mainone could be transformation/metamorphosis. Other readings are certainly possible. But i like the possibility of the white raven being (changing into) this and that (snow, the tip of a mountain, a cloud, the poet's shadow, etc.... Of course it could very well be the unstated "I" that is being considered.
under a stainless steel
bridge
a country disappears
Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah
Here the change is not into something else that's tangible but into *nothingness*. And the intriguing question i return to in this one is "why?". i feel this is an extremely well done ku that is politically charged, showcasing the changes that have gone on in the world over the last two centuries, dealing with colonialism, imperialism, globalization, and reflecting on culture. i'm reminded of the novel *Things Fall Apart*. A powerful poem i think.
Others:
ocean
+ forest
horses
—Aram Saroyan (1968)
a fork in the
the road turning into a
a clock
—Peter Yovu
And a few more from *The Haiku Universe for the 21st Century* anthology that i think contain elements of metamorphosis/transformation:
More and more quickly
my lungs are turning blue—
a trip by sea
—Hōsaku Shinohara
Beat of a war drum
in autumn desolation
turns into
a contusion
—Shigenobu Takayanagi
The falling leaves—
rushing underground I notice
scales on my skin
—Mikajo Yagi
As a single drop
of moonlight
I am walking
—Shōshi Fujita
When the frozen butterfly
finally reaches its end:
a hundred towers
—Yasumasa Sōda
And one last one, by Bashō:
A crow
has settled on a bare branch—
autumn evening.
(from *Essential Haiku* by R. Hass)
on a bare branch
a crow has alighted . . .
autumn nghtfall
(tr. by Ueda)
But this might only work with/for the above translation, which i think it's possible to read as:
crow + bare branch = autumn evening
and, therefore, a transformation into a . . . climate?
Hiroaki Sato's version defeats this notion though:
On a dead branch crows remain perched at autumn's end