Carpe Diem Universal Jane #13 Sijo the Korean poem

Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,

Welcome at a new weekend meditation this week I love to introduce through the work of Jane Reichhold the beauty of Sijo, the Korean poem. I found a wonderful article on Jane and Werner Reichhold's website AHA Poetry which I love to share here with you. As you all know I am still a big fan of Jane Reichhold and still miss her every day. That's the reason why I have created this special feature for CDHK. Jane has done a lot for us and for me. So in honor of this great poetess, the queen of haiku and tanka, and as it turns out also a big creator of Sijo.

Sijo

The spring breeze melted snow on the hills then quickly disappeared.
I wish I could borrow it briefly to blow over my hair
And melt away the aging frost forming now about my ears.

© U T'ak (1262-1342, author of this oldest surviving sijo)

More ancient than haiku, the Korean SIJO shares a common ancestry with haiku, tanka and similar Japanese genres. All evolved from more ancient Chinese patterns.

Sijo is traditionally composed in three lines of 14-16 syllables each, totaling between 44-46 syllables. A pause breaks each line approximately in the middle; it resembles a caesura but is not based on metrics.

My body, in its withering, may become a lovely swallow.
Under the eaves of my loved one's home I'll build my nest of twigs.
After dusk I'll fly aloft and glide gently to his side.

© Anonymous

Mind, I have a question for you - How is it you stay so young?
As the years pile up on my body, you too should grow old.
Oh, if I followed your lead, Mind, I would be run out of town.

© Anonymous

Each half-line contains 6-9 syllables; the last half of the final line is often shorter than the rest, but should contain no fewer than 5.

A drum beats in the far temple; I think it's in the clouds.
Is it above the meadow and hill, perhaps below the sky?
Something sends a veil of mist, I cannot heed the drum.

© Anonymous

Oh that I might capture the essence of this deep midwinter night
And fold it softly into the waft of a spring-moon quilt
Then fondly uncoil it the night my beloved returns.

© Hwang Chin-i (1522-1565) most revered female Korean classical poet

The sijo may be narrative or thematic, introducing a situation or problem in line 1, development or "turn" in line 2, and resolution in line 3. The first half of the final line employs a "twist": a surprise of meaning, sound, tone or other device. The sijo is often more lyrical, subjective and personal than haiku, and the final line can take a profound, witty, humorous or proverbial turn. Like haiku, sijo has a strong basis in nature, but, unlike that genre, it frequently employs metaphors, symbols, puns, allusions and similar word play.

You ask how many friends I have? Water and stone, bamboo and pine.
The moon rising over the eastern hill is a joyful comrade.
Besides these five companions, what other pleasure should I ask?

© Yon Son-do (1587-1671)

Printing restrictions often cause Western sijo to be divided at the natural break and printed in 6 lines. Some translators and poets have adopted this technique, so modern sijo may appear in either 3 or 6 lines;

Under our oak the grass withers,
so we plant petunias;
We water them, we coddle them,
burn their youth with chemicals.
Digesting their timely death,
the oak renews our summer shade.

Because it was meant to be sung, and because of the nature Hangul (the Korean script), the structure of sijo often resembles biblical phrases. In English, it may resemble Hopkins' sprung rhythm. To achieve this phrasal quality, each long line, once divided, is divided again, into quarters averaging 3 - 5 syllables, as indicated by the slashes:

Without the pines / the wind is silent;
without wind / the pines are still;
Without you / my heart is voiceless,
without that voice / my heart is dead.
What potent power / of yang and yin
pairs us / before we sleep?

Though quarter lines are seldom divided so obviously, a discernible (even if slight) pause is usually evident. Sijo may be highly repetitive. Phrases may be repeated or echoed, a trait revealing the sijo's heritage to be sung or chanted. Meter is not vital, but that musical link should not be overlooked.

The 6-line form was preferred by William Kim (Unsong) in his translation of 100 classical sijo (Poet, An International Monthly, March, 1986). Kim experimentally employed end rhyme and broke the verse into three separate couplets, two conventions not usually used by other translators. Take care in using such devices. They can result in a poem that looks, sounds and acts so Western that it obscures its unique heritage. I have written both 3-line and 6-line patterns, but usually prefer the former when format allows. Poets are always free to make choices, but Elizabeth St Jacques, a leader in the sijo movement, offers good advice: never lose sight of the three characteristics that make sijo unique: basic structure, musical/rhythmic elements, and the twist.

Let me ask you, butterfly, do you remember your cocoon?
Perhaps you recall spinning thread, a caterpillar's ungainly crawl?
If we can jog your memory, maybe there is hope for me.

© Jane Reichhold

Well this is a wonderful kind of poetry and I hope I have inspired you to try it yourself. Here is an attempt I once made to create Sijo:

Cherry trees blossoming for the very first time
spreading their branches, reaching for the sun
thunderstorms raging, fragile blossoms scattered

© Chèvrefeuille

As you all know this "weekend-meditation" is open for your submissions next Sunday, March 26th at 7.00 PM (CET) and will be open until March 31st at noon (CET). I will try to publish our new post, arise, around 7.00 PM (CET) next Sunday Match 26th.

Have fun!

Carpe Diem Tokubetsudesu #57 Sijo, the ancient poem from Korea

Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,

My dad is recovering great from his heart attack of last Sunday. I am glad that the cardiologist has planned his release from the hospital this week. Thank you all for your warm thoughts, prayers and love.

In today’s Tokubetsudesu episode I would like to introduce to you SIJO an ancient Korean short poetry form.
Sijo share a common history with haiku and other Japanese forms. Sijo is a modern term for a Korean style of lyrical poetry, originally called tanga (literally, "short song"). The sijo strongly resembles Japanese haiku in having a strong foundation in nature in a short profound structure. Bucolic, metaphysical and astronomical themes are often explored. The lines average 14-16 syllables, for a total of 44-46. There is a pause in the middle of each line, so in English they are sometimes printed in six lines instead of three. Most poets follow these guidelines very closely although there are longer examples. Either narrative or thematic, this lyric verse introduces a situation or problem in line 1, development (called a turn) in line 2, and a strong conclusion beginning with a surprise (a twist) in line 3, which resolves tensions or questions raised by the other lines and provides a memorable ending. 

An example by Kwon Homun (1532-1587):

"The wind is pure and clear,
the moon is pure and bright.

The bamboo grove within the pines
is pure of worldly cares:

But a lute and piles of scrolls
can make it purer still"

Bamboo Groove

Another example by Yi Saek (1328-1396):

"the white snow has left the valleys
where the clouds are lowering

Is it true that somewhere
the plum trees have happily blossomed?

I stand here alone in the dusk
and do not know where to go"

Plum Trees

Korean poetry can be traced at least as far back as King Yuri's Song of Yellow Birds (17BC), but its roots are in still earlier Chinese quatrains. Sijo, Korea's favorite poetic genre, is often traced to Confucian monks of the eleventh century, but its roots, too, are in those earlier forms. Its greatest flowering occurred in the 16th and 17th centuries. 

Sijo is, first and foremost, a song. This lyric pattern gained popularity in royal courts as a vehicle for religious or philosophic expression, but a parallel tradition arose among the 'common' folk. Sijo were sung or chanted with musical accompaniment, and still are. In fact, the word originally referred only to the music, but it has come to be identified with the lyric as well.

The poet should not lose sight of three basic characteristics that make the sijo unique: its structure, its musical/rhythmic elements, and the twist which begins the final line. For best results, poets follow these and other guidelines very closely. (sources: Wonder Haiku Worlds)

My first attempt to write a Sijo I love to share here with you all.

Cherry trees blossoming
for the very first time

spreading their branches,
reaching for the sun

thunderstorms raging,
fragile blossoms scattered

© Chèvrefeuille

Cherry blossoms

Well ...  what do you think about this Sijo? As I was preparing this episode of Tokubetsudesu I also visited Jane Reichhold's AHA-Poetry website and I traced one of the oldest known Sijo written in the 13th century by U Tak (1262-1342):

The spring breeze melted snow on the hills
then quickly disappeared.

I wish I could borrow it briefly
to blow over my hair

And melt away the aging frost
forming now about my ears.

© U T'ak (1262-1342)

By the way the "6 lines" lay-out is not the original lay-out of the Sijo. It was written in three lines. So this Sijo by U Tak would look like this, in the original lay-out:

The spring breeze melted snow on the hills then quickly disappeared.

I wish I could borrow it briefly to blow over my hair
And melt away the aging frost forming now about my ears.

© U T'ak (1262-1342)

I think it's a nice poetry form, of course not an original Japanese form, but it's roots are in the same region as haiku. And in a way Sijo and haiku have something in common. Both are short and the main theme is nature.

Eagle

Try this nice little Korean verse and share it with us. I have another example of a Sijo by Narayanan Raghunathan which he wrote in 2005. Narayanan is co-founder of Wonder Haiku Worlds.

wonder days wander, eagles
on summer sky with thunder clouds

breeze from distant worlds arrives,
cool with swans on  billowing back

vast clouds  array ancient
fairy tales, epics of ether light. 

© Narayanan Raghunathan (co-founder of Wonder Haiku Worlds)

This episode of Tokubetsudesu is NOW OPEN for your submissions and will remain open until August 21th at noon (CET). I will publish our next episode, Monophysitism, later on..