Thursday, 16 November 2023

Whispering Winds: Autumn’s Touch

In the quiet embrace of the changing season, Teiga pened this delicate yet profound haiku.

草の戸や畳の上の秋の風
kusa no to ya tatami no tie no aki no kaze[1]

a humble hut
over the tatami mats blows
the autumn wind
—Teiga[2]

Shining Wind by Sano Seiji
“Shining Wind” by Sano Seiji

We are talking about a simple house here, a “grass hut” symbolizing simplicity and impermanence. This kind of hut wouldn’t have kept out the weather very well, especially allowing the wind to blow straight in, which could be good or bad but certainly would bring us closer to nature.

The idea of allowing the wind straight in may sound somewhat miserable, but the autumn wind is not thought of as being especially cold; it is more a gentle reminded of the season, bringing to us that crisp autumn smell that is a pleasant welcome after the hot and humid summer. When that scent hits us, it brings a tranquility, where the hustle of the world fades away, and one is left with the simple, yet profound beauty of nature. I think that’s why most of us enjoy autumn.


From Wikipedia

Tatami mats were the traditional floor coverings of Japan. They are typically used in karate practice halls or other Japanese martial arts, so you may be somewhat familiar with them. They are made from straw and are soft to walk on. They are beautiful, give off a pleasant fragrance, and are nice to sit, walk, and sleep on. Unfortunately they are rather expensive and somewhat difficult to maintain, so newer houses no longer have them, or at most limit them to a single room.

The kigo (season word) in this haiku is autumn wind. It is a kigo for all of autumn. The nature of this wind changes as the season progresses: it starts with the residual heat of summer and gradually becomes cooler and more refreshing, and by late autumn, it carries a chill, contributing to a more desolate atmosphere.

  1. See: Pronunciation of Japanese  ↩

  2. See: a note on translations  ↩

Wednesday, 8 November 2023

To Kill an Ant; Shūson’s Haiku and a Parent’s Dilemma

Parents know the trap: doing the very thing we tell our kids not to do. Shūson captured it perfectly in this haiku:

蟻殺すわれを三人の子に見られぬ
ari korosu ware o sannin no ko ni mirarenu[1]

I killed an ant…
then realized
my three kids were watching
—Shūson[2]

Shinsuke Minegishi - An Ant
Shinsuke Minegishi – “An Ant”

Shūson was one of the more famous modern haiku poets. Initially he hated the restrictive format of haiku and preferred the 31-mora tanka.[3] Then he met Shūōshi Mizuhara, a highly acclaimed haiku poet, and fell in love with the small verse. He had a serious illness in the 1960s and once recovered from it, his haiku took on ideas of human life and life in general.

His mentor, Mizuhara, was one of the free style[4] haiku poets of whom I’ve talked before. We can see that influence in this haiku, which by my count is 5/8/6 instead of the standard 5/7/5 count.

One of Shūson’s best-known verses, it captures that parental moment of being caught breaking your own rules.

I can especially relate. I always teach my boys to not kill and be kind to insects and animals. If we find spiders or even cockroaches in the house, I always get my boys to help me trap them, then we let them go outside. Yet a summer or two ago I was being bothered by mosquitoes at my in-law’s house and I impulsively smashed one that was biting my leg. Suddenly I heard a small voice cry: “Papa, why did you kill that bug?! That was a bad thing to do!”

I had no responce.

[Last updated: 8 Aug 2025]

  1. See: Pronunciation of Japanese  ↩

  2. See: a note on translations  ↩

  3. We usually say 17 and 31 syllables for haiku and tanka out of convinience and simplicity, but the Japanese poems actually use mora, not syllables. Briefly, mora are almost the same but are often shorter. Perhaps I will write about this sometime, but check out Wikipedia for now.  ↩

  4. Or gendai — “modern style” — haiku poet.  ↩

Saturday, 24 June 2023

Rainy Season Flowers

紫陽草や薮を小庭の別座敷
ajisai ya yabu o koniwa no betsuzashiki[1]

hydrangea…
a thicket for a little garden
of this cottage
—Bashō[2]

Tomoda Mitsuru - Hydrangea in Rain
Tomoda Mitsuru – Hydrangea in Rain

In Japan, it’s currently the season of the beautiful hydrangea. My wife always calls them rainy season flowers because they begin their bloom during this season. I’m not sure if that’s a common nickname in Japan or a term my wife coined herself. At any rate, they are an absolutely beautiful flower. The grey skies of the rainy season make their color and beauty pop even more than they otherwise would.

This haiku was written for a renga session Bashō was invited to that was held in a small room surrounded by a very rustic garden. Bashō used this haiku not only as the leading verse of the renga, but also to illustrate his concept of karumi, or “lightness”, in haiku.

Karumi was Bashō’s final and ultimate philosophy of haiku which he created not long before his death. It highlights that great attention should be paid to the mundane aspects of life and that the seriousness of classical Japanese and Chinese poetry should be avoided. In many ways, karumi really shows Bashō’s progress in his Zen Buddhism. When he was a young man, his haiku were full of clever wordplay, numerous inside jokes, references to deep topics of old Chinese poets, and so on. But the older he grew, and the deeper he settled in his Zen, the more his haiku philosophy moved in the direction of being simpler and simpler, ultimately resulting in his idea of karumi.

An interesting thing about this haiku is it is one of only two that he wrote about hydrangea. I’ve searched thousands of them, but I can’t find that Issa ever wrote any on the flowers either, nor Buson. There is a reason these three haiku masters avoided featuring the flower. During the Edo period in which they all lived hydrangea became very unpopular because they were considered a symbol of moral infidelity. While I’m sure Bashō would have cared little for any strange samurai influenced moral outlook imposed on flowers, it seems he was influenced by it. Like all of us, Bashō was a product of his culture, and it wouldn’t be surprising if it influenced his work.

  1. See: Pronunciation of Japanese  ↩

  2. See: a note on translations  ↩

Tuesday, 23 May 2023

20 Sen from 1909・Old Japanese Coins

If you’ve ever been curious about old Japanese coins, this is the post for you! I have a small collection of old Japanese coins and I think I’m going to start sharing some of it.

Today I want to cover a 20 sen coin I picked up a while ago. First we’ll give you some stats then we’ll look at the design a little closer and finally I’ll give some historic info.

Stats

4.1 g
20.3 mm diameter
1.2 mm thickness
edge: reeded

It’s 80% silver and 20% copper.

I’ll give a comparison with US money at the end to but that diameter in perspective.

Front side

The front side has a radiant sun shining in the middle surrounded by cherry blossoms. Around the edge it reads: 20 Sen, Great Japan (大日本), Meiji 42 (明治四十二年). It’s read from right to left, which is not the normal way today, but was common at the time.

Meiji 42 means the 42nd year of the reign of the Meiji Emperor, Mutsuhito, which would be 1909.

Back side

The back features the text 20 sen in the middle (二十銭). The imperial crest which is a chrysanthemum is at the top, and we have the arms of the laurel wreath on the sides. The left arm is a paulownia flower and the right is a Chrysanthemum flower, both important in Japanese culture.

Overall

All in all, a beautifully designed coin. It’s a shame they don’t use this design anymore. This is the third of three different designs they used during the production of the 20 sen coin. It’s the smallest of the three.

Here it is laying on top of a ¥100 coin, which is just slightly smaller than a US quarter.

And on a quarter.

About

Before the hyperinflation following World War II rendered it useless, the yen was subdivided into 100 sen, making it a little like dollars and cents. But with the incredible inflation after the war it was decided to eliminate the sen and rebase the yen to make it the only unit used.

Interestingly, in the 1990s the Bank of Japan was considering adding a new unit above a yen so we could have returned to this mixed unit system, but ultimately they thought it would be too confusing so they decided to stay with only the yen.

Friday, 19 May 2023

A Nightcap

Written the other night as I relaxed before bed.

冷酒啜り世界忘れてしばしかな
reishu susuri sekai wasurete shibashi kana[1]

sipping sake
while I try to forget the world
for a while

Sake set, by Epopt
Sake set, by Epopt

’m not a big drinker, but I do enjoy sake sometimes (usually called nihonshu 日本酒 in Japanese). If you’ve never tried it before, it has a wonderful smooth taste. Not as strong in effect as whisky, nor as strong in taste as red wine; a little stronger than beer, but smoother, with some hints of fruitiness which is always very mysterious to me given it comes from wine. That’s something the koji adds, I suppose? (koji is the mold used to ferment the drink). It is usually translated as “rice wine”, but since rice is a grain it’s more of a beer than a wine. But the taste is more similar to a wine. All around great drink.

Whatever the case many be, it’s a delightful drink. If you’ve never tried it before, see if you have a Japanese grocery nearby and if so go buy some. I’m not an expert, so I don’t know well all the different types. My friend who is an expert told me to look for junmai daiginjo (純米大吟醸) or daijinjo (大吟醸), so those are what I always get. You might look for that too if you have a chance. But even the cheap stuff is usually pretty good. When I buy it I look for the good quality kinds that my friend suggested, but when my wife buys it for me she often buys these big 2 or 3 liter cartons that are only something like ¥1000. Cheap stuff, in other words. But even that is pretty good, so I have no complaint.

Although you may have read that some places serve it hot, it is best cold, so I’d suggest that.

I wrote the above haiku when I was having a cup at the end of the day. That particular day had been a little busy. Not bad, just busy and hectic so I was worn out. I always try to leave work at work and clear my mind of things. My zazen (Zen style meditation) helps with that and has conditioned my mind enough that I’m pretty good at leaving the world behind and living in the moment. That said, the sake does help with that, loosening my thinking just enough to allow the stress of the day to more easily slip away.

Like many many Japanese men say, I look forward to when my sons are of age so I can drink with them.

You may be surprised that sake is a kigo (season word). There are actually many kigo for sake of all different seasons. Reishu or hiyazake, words for “cold sake” would have been used back in the day instead of nihonshu. All three can be used as summer kigo. According to the traditional Japanese almanac which haiku follows, we just started summer a few days ago, making the summer kigo apt.

  1. See: Pronunciation of Japanese  ↩

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