February 17, 2012 (revised version)
暮れそめてにはかに暮れぬ梅林 日野草城
kuresomete niwakani kurenu umebayashi
sun starts to set…
a plum grove suddenly
grows dark
Sojo Hino
from “Haiku Dai-Saijiki” (“Comprehensive Haiku Saijiki”), Kadokawa Shoten, Tokyo, 2006
Fay’s Note: Sojo Hino (1901-1956)
Shortly after I uploaded the translation of the above haiku, Kiyoshi Hanatani sent me an e-mail. He graciously pointed out, the letter “ぬ” (“nu”) in this haiku indicates “completion” of the word “kureru” (“get/grow dark”); not negates the verb. At first, I did not agree with him. When I read this haiku, I saw a grove with white plum blossoms. I imagined the grove refusing to surrender itself to the night’s darkness.
Then, Kiyoshi sent to me a commentary written by Nobuko Katsura, one of the prominent female haiku poets in the twentieth century, from her “Sojo Jùnikagetsu” (“Sojos’s Twelve Months”) privately published in 1980. Still, I did not agree with him.
Finally, Kiyoshi sent me the following five haiku from “Kinô no Hana” (“Yesterday’s Blossoms”), Sojo’s haiku collection published in 1932. The second one is the one I found in “Haiku Dai-Saijiki.” Let me provide translation of these five haiku.
梅日和をはる夕日の障子かな
ume-biyori owaru yûhi no shôji kana
a perfect day
for plum blossoms ends
shoji screen at dusk
暮れそめてにはかに暮れぬ梅林
kuresomete niwakani kurenu umebayashi
sun starts to set…
a plum grove suddenly
grows dark
遠き灯のかがやきそめぬ梅林
tôki hi no kagayaki-somenu umebayashi
distant light
the plum grove starts
to glow
夜に入りて鼓を打つや梅の宿
yo ni irite tsuzumi o utsu ya ume no yado
at night
playing the tsuzumi drum –
plum blossom inn
春の宵灯ともれば灯にひびく水
haru no yoi hi tomoreba hi ni hibiku mizu
spring night—
when the light gleams
water reverberates it
Finally, I realize I made a mistake…
Fay Aoyagi
February 22, 2012
Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi) 
Hi, Fay, This brings up a very interesting contemplation. Often the haiku we write and send out into the world are reinterpreted in many ways by many people … which is more valid? The motivation of the haiku poet or the interpretations as those words reflect moments in other people’s lives. Long ago I gave up worrying about whether anyone would understand what I had experienced… I was just glad when it meant something to them. One time was even a bit embarrassing since it meant something I had never dreamed of but seemed to reflect actions way beyond my abilities or inclinations. Words are slippery things. So I honor your translation as much as the original…and have to tell you it’s interesting to me that people care enough to try to seek out the original experience. Once again, haiku proves that words are important and for that I am thankful.
Very interesting – being involved in doing translations between languages that are a bit closer to eachother than Japanes and English I yet recognize this aspect of interpretation and understanding…and this is such an elucidating example, how it can be worthwhile to actually dig into the poet’s very language during the process – i e also read other of his/her poems than the ones that one is about to translate. Thank you for sharing this!
Thank you, all for your kind words! I may never forget this plum grove haiku! ^_^;;
Helga: this poet, Sojo (pronounced ‘soh-joe’) is a man.
Lovely – and very interesting! I have recently bought a book called “On the Smell of an Oily Rag’. It is not by a Japanese author, rather Chinese, but the point is the same – the book is about the differences, similarities and parallels in the way Chinese people use language as opposed to people who speak English. It is very illuminating – due to our differing cultures and history, and even the way we write our language, of course we think differently. Therefore translation is bound to be fraught with intricacies!
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