Tag Archives: Matsuo Basho

autumn bliss (tan renga)

Today our host and mentor  at CarpeDiemHaikuKai invites us to take part in a renga party.

Chevrefeuille says: “ I love to use, was written in Autumn 1689. The title for this renga is: “best for seeing the moon”. As the title of this renga tells us the haiku is a real autumn verse. As you (maybe) know the moon is a seasonword for autumn. In Japan they find the moon of autumn the most beautiful and there are lot of haiku written with the autumn moon. The moon was (and is still) a seasonword for autumn. In my country, The Netherlands, poets find the moon of winter the most beautiful. Maybe that’s true, but as a haiku poet I find the moon of autumn the most beautiful and spectacular. Why? I can’t say why it’s a feeling. Maybe it’s because of my interest in the classical haiku, maybe it’s because the Japanese haiku poets have written such beautiful haiku about the autumn moon.

Here is the haiku, the hokku of this renga party, by Basho:”

let’s visit the places
best for seeing the moon
sleeping on a journey
©Matsuo Basho

dreaming of yesteryear
that last September kiss

soft lips
pressing urgently
leaf on her shoulder


Related image
© https://www.dreamstime.com/stock-illustration-man-woman-front-full-moon-silhouette-lying-grass-image59924013


Plop interuptus (haiku)

Our host at Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie has asked us to rewrite this famous haiku by the master, Matsuo Basho

furu ike ya / kawazu tobi komu / mizu no oto

old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water

© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

A description of the surroundings when Basho experienced this moment, by the old pond were Japanese yellow roses (yamabuki) growing around the pond.  Here is my rewrite.

Yamabuki (Yellow Roses, Kerria Japonica)

scent of roses
by the old pond
frog plops

© Tournesol ’15


night meets dawn (haibun)

asamutsu ya tsukimi no tabi no ake banare
bridge of morning
a journey of moon-viewing
at dawn
© Basho

Our host has written:

in the thin line
as the night flows into the day
sun and moon together

© Chèvrefeuille

sun and moon dancing
as the night flows into the day –
a skylark’s song

© Chèvrefeuille

Here is my attempt:


She reflects on her evening’s work; so many youths lost in suffering. It makes her think about life, her adult children and her grandson. Her heart filled with love as she walks back home late into the night.

At home, she sits and begins to write…a purging of thoughts flooding her screen that shines brightly like the full moon in the window. All these thoughts, suffering, doubts and concerns fill her screen as she turns her head towards the window, as if the moon has answers.

hushed contemplations
scrolls by light of the moon,
the early bird chirps

© Tournesol ’15

On The Trail With Basho Encore #9 Bridge of Morning

le prunier très cher/ the prized plum tree (haibun)

Credits: Japanese Plums

Retour sur la piste de Basho Encore” qui a écrit le haïku suivant peu après la mort soudaine de son ami, Yoshitada.

furu oto ya mimi mo su-naru ume no ame

un son tombant
aigrir mes oreilles
la pluie des prunes

© Basho (Clr traduit de la traduction anglaise par Jane Reichhold)

le prunier très cher

Mon beau-père est décédé mardi. Ce haïbun est écris dans le souvenir de monsieur Bernard. Le haïku de Matsuo Basho m’a rappelé de bon souvenirs de ce grand homme.

Je n’ai jamais vu un prunier avant celui qui était dans la cour de monsieur Bernard (grand-père de nos enfants) quand j’avais à peine seize ans et la fiancée de son fils. Je me souviens de l’arbre qui était grand et maigrichon ; nous avons ri et l’avons tous taquiné à combien d’années qu’il faudra pour enfin voir des fruits ;  mais nous avions tort. En quelques années, l’arbre a fleuri et a porté ses fruits.

Il était si fier de son prunier. Cela signifiait plus qu’un arbre pour lui. Ce fut sa première nouvelle maison dont qu’il et son épouse avaient réussi à gratter et économisez pour loger leurs trois enfants adolescents. Leur fils aîné avait déjà deux petits enfants. Maintenant, ils avaient la liberté d’une grande espace verte avec une petite clairière au fond de la cour. Ils avaient lutté pendant de nombreuses années et maintenant ils avaient humble jardin, quelques arbres et une maison pour appeler «le leur».  C’était une grande victoire.

douce éclat
whoosh sur les brins d’
première goutte de prune

© Tournesol ‘15


“Back on the trail of Basho Encore” who wrote the following haiku shortly after the sudden death of his friend, Yoshitada.

furu oto ya mimi mo su-naru ume no ame
a falling sound

that sours my ears
plum rain © Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

 the prized plum tree

My father-in-law and the grandfather of our children, died on Tuesday. This haibun is in memory of monsieur Bernard. Basho’s haiku reminded me of this great man.

The first plum tree I ever saw was in his back yard when I was barely sixteen, engaged to his son. I remember how tall and scrawny the tree looked and we all chuckled and teased him at how many years it would take to see any fruit but we were wrong. In just a few years, the tree blossomed and bore fruit.

He was so proud of his plum tree. It meant more than a tree to him. This was his first new house his wife and he had managed to scrape and save to own and house their three adolescent children. Their eldest son had already two small children. Now they had the freedom of a huge backyard with a wooded area beyond the property. They had struggled for many years so a humble garden, a few trees and a home to call “theirs” was a huge victory.

soft thump
swish on blades of grass
first plum drop

© Tournesol ’15

Carpe Diem, on the trial with Basho Encore