人一人蝿も一つや大座敷 hito hitori hae mo hitotsu ya ōzashiki —Issa 1819
人 hito person 一人 hitori one-person (also can mean alone) 蝿 hae fly (also person of little worth) も mo too, also 一つ hitotsu one や ya cutting word for emphasis or exclamation 大 (dai) big, large 座敷 zashiki tatami room or traditional Japanese reception room = 大座敷 ozashiki
one man / one fly too! / big tatami room (or perhaps “one man alone”)
or: one man, one fly one large sitting room —tr. Lanoue
Issa grew up in the era when senryū was a young offshoot of haikai, and like many of his poems, this one is in the grey area between haiku and senryū. It has a cut between the two listed elements of man and fly (a summer kigo in the saijikis) and the third noun image element. So in a way, it is “two parts with a cut” but in another way, it is rather three separate but related noun images with one semantic cut between the first two animated noun images, and one formal cutting word (perhaps unnecessary: what do you think?) between them and the inanimate third element.
These three elements work together wonderfully well and economically to paint the picture of Issa trying to sit still while there is a tiny fly that, despite having the whole of this large area at its disposal, buzzes intermittently and inevitably homes in on him. We picture the poet sitting cross-legged, twitching and brushing off the fly repeatedly. The tatami room can be more than just a physical setting. For a practising Buddhist it’s a dedicated space for meditation. You may prefer this rendering for Issa, a Pure Land Buddhist—it brings into play mindful contemplation and devotions. How can a Buddhist empty his mind when there is this pesky manifestation of nature intruding? And if, even so, he cannot train himself to accept and ignore the fly, he has a long way to go…
As so often, we warm to Issa’s human and humane humour. He’s like us. Blyth, expert and profound in the genre, came to value gentle humour among other characteristics of haiku: “The humour of haiku…belongs to the spirit rather than the form. It is some indispensable element without which haiku can hardly exist, some poise of the mind, some balance of conflicting elements from which arises that pleasure whose peculiar quality causes us to give it the name of humour” (Blyth Haiku vol. 1, Chap “The Technique of Haiku” p. 353)
John Stevenson’s evocative verse is similar:
first
apartment
art
and
a bed
人一人蝿も一つや大座敷
hito hitori hae mo hitotsu ya ōzashiki
—Issa 1819
人 hito person
一人 hitori one-person (also can mean alone)
蝿 hae fly (also person of little worth)
も mo too, also
一つ hitotsu one
や ya cutting word for emphasis or exclamation
大 (dai) big, large
座敷 zashiki tatami room or traditional Japanese reception room
= 大座敷 ozashiki
one man / one fly too! / big tatami room
(or perhaps “one man alone”)
or:
one man, one fly
one large
sitting room
—tr. Lanoue
Issa grew up in the era when senryū was a young offshoot of haikai, and like many of his poems, this one is in the grey area between haiku and senryū. It has a cut between the two listed elements of man and fly (a summer kigo in the saijikis) and the third noun image element. So in a way, it is “two parts with a cut” but in another way, it is rather three separate but related noun images with one semantic cut between the first two animated noun images, and one formal cutting word (perhaps unnecessary: what do you think?) between them and the inanimate third element.
These three elements work together wonderfully well and economically to paint the picture of Issa trying to sit still while there is a tiny fly that, despite having the whole of this large area at its disposal, buzzes intermittently and inevitably homes in on him. We picture the poet sitting cross-legged, twitching and brushing off the fly repeatedly. The tatami room can be more than just a physical setting. For a practising Buddhist it’s a dedicated space for meditation. You may prefer this rendering for Issa, a Pure Land Buddhist—it brings into play mindful contemplation and devotions. How can a Buddhist empty his mind when there is this pesky manifestation of nature intruding? And if, even so, he cannot train himself to accept and ignore the fly, he has a long way to go…
As so often, we warm to Issa’s human and humane humour. He’s like us. Blyth, expert and profound in the genre, came to value gentle humour among other characteristics of haiku: “The humour of haiku…belongs to the spirit rather than the form. It is some indispensable element without which haiku can hardly exist, some poise of the mind, some balance of conflicting elements from which arises that pleasure whose peculiar quality causes us to give it the name of humour” (Blyth Haiku vol. 1, Chap “The Technique of Haiku” p. 353)