Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,
Today we have a wonderful kigo to work with. Today it's Hototogisu (Little or English Cuckoo) and it is (and was) a wonderful kigo to all haiku poets, modern as well as classic. It's a very populair kigo and I have found several wonderful haiku written on Hototogisu. E.g. this one by Basho:
hototogisu otake yabu wo more tsukiyo
moonlight slants through
the vast bamboo grove
a hototogisu cries
R.H.Blyth comments, in his four Volume series Haiku Vol.3, on this verse saying:
It is said that even now there are great bamboo groves around the place where once Kyorai's villa stood at Saga. Basho spent two weeks here in April, in the fourth year of Genroku (1692). The Hototogisu corresponds more or less to the Little or English cuckoo. The breast of the male is blackish, with white blotches. The breast of the female is white, the inside of the mouth red; it has a crest of hair on the head. The legs are greenish. It doesn't make a nest of its own, but borrows that of the uguisu (The Japanese Bush Warbler (Uguisu), Cettia diphone, is a passerine bird more often heard than seen. Its distinctive breeding call can be heard throughout much of Japan from the start of spring. Some other Japanese names given to the bird are haru-dori ("spring bird"), haru-tsuge-dori ("spring-announcing bird") and hanami-dori ("spring-flower-viewing bird"). Its place in Japanese poetry has also given it the names uta-yomi-dori ("poem-reading bird") and kyo-yomi-dori ("sutra-reading bird"), the latter because its call is traditionally transcribed in Japanese as "Hō-hoke-kyo", the abbreviated Japanese title of the lotus sutra).
Credits: Uguisu |
From early summer, it (the hototogisu), sings day and night, and ceases in autumn. It is said to vomit blood and die after it has sung eight thousand and eight times.
Or what do you think of this one by Shiki:
tsuki no de no kusa ni kaze fuku hototogisu
the moon arising
there is wind in the grass
a hototogisu sings
Blyth says about this verse: Over the mountains the moon appears; a gust of wind moves the summer grasses, the sound already a little dry and melancholy. In the distance, a hototogisu suddenly breaks into song. The combination of sight and touch and sound is perfect, is complete, nothing more is required. In the succeeding stillness, the moon climbs higher and higher tinto the sky.
I have found a beautiful haiga by Buson in which he portrays a Hototogisu.
A little cuckoo across a hydrangea - Yosa Buson |
The haiku in this haiga is:
Iwakura no
kyoojo koi seyo hototogisu
cause the
madwoman at Iwakura
to fall more deeply in love
o hototogisu
to fall more deeply in love
o hototogisu
And I love to share another photo of the Hototogisu.
Credits: Hototogisu |
Enough about this wonderful and populair bird as classical kigo for mid-summer. Let me try to write a haiku about the Hototogisu.
little cuckoo
sings the whole day and night
his bleeding throat
his bleeding throat
sign for upcoming dead
just one song left
just one song left
thousands times he gave his concert -
fallen to earth
sings the whole day and night
his bleeding throat
his bleeding throat
sign for upcoming dead
just one song left
just one song left
thousands times he gave his concert -
fallen to earth
fallen to earth
completing the cycle of life
completing the cycle of life
little cuckoo
I hope you did like this episode, unless the sad ending of it. Be inspired and share your haiku with us all here on Carpe Diem.
This prompt will stay on 'til June 21th 11.59 AM (CET) and I will post our next episode, Yuunagi (Evening lull), later on today around 10.00 PM (CET). !! The linking widget of Hototogisu will open at 9.00 PM (CET) !!
cause the madwoman at Iwakura
ReplyDeleteto fall more deeply in love
o hototogisu
So beautiful!
And yours are too. Thank you for this prompt.
the number - 8008 - is perfect in symmetry and balance...
ReplyDeleteThat first haiku by Basho you found was brilliant - and I thought very much in the style of his 'old pond' haiku - here the picture of the moonlight slanted through the grove casting shadows suddenly broken by the cuckoo's call - and we have sight into sound, with a sudden 'cuckoo' ending the scene - the madwoman haiku was also just wonderful, on so many levels. I learnt so much, again.
ReplyDeleteYour cascade is wonderfully sad, Basho. Thanks for all the info
ReplyDeleteI've just returned from Spain (business trip). Looking at your Haiku I know, what I've missed.
ReplyDeleteI'm runing a day behind today, so sorry to all if I don;t get to comment on your posts.
ReplyDeleteLove your Little Cuckoo Kristjaan, such a sad story from nature.
You can find mine at: http://purplepeninportland.wordpress.com
ReplyDeleteSearch: little-cuckoo