Haiku & Tanka

Tree Haiku (Bloomsbury)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Tree Haiku
(Bloomsbury)

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All silvery silk,
its ball-gown is billowing:
the Monterey pine.

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A tall shady cave
filled with invisible song:
a group of old yews.

*

Those great wars do not
touch it, nor those great poems:
the ancient gingko.

*

Christina Egan ©2022

*


Only gingko-trees survived
the atomic bomb at Hiroshima;
Goethe wrote a much-quoted
poem about a gingko-leaf.

The “invisible song” was
perhaps of the goldcrest,
which I spotted with delight
at the same site another time.

*

Gingko biloba. Photograph by CS76, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Showers (Haiku)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Showers

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Snow

A thousand snow-flakes,
sent from the moon to the lake
like little kisses.

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Rain

The rain is dancing
on the skylight through the night.
We are wrapped in sleep.

*

Blossom

The cherry blossom
of your face on the pillow,
scented, resplendent.

*

Christina Egan ©2002

Raindrops on window, with pink flowers showing in the lens of each drop.
Raindrops on window, with flowers showing in each drop.
Photograph by Kumiko Shimizu on Unsplash.

One Drop of Rain

If one still drop of rain contains a rose
and if my eye encompasses your face,
a secret crystal must exist that holds
the sparkling galaxy in one round space.

Christina Egan ©2024

The breathtaking photograph I found as an illustration
for the haiku inspired another poem many years later!

Indigo Pond

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Indigo Pond
(Hiroshige, Wisteria)

Deep blue sky, deep blue pond.
Two black-and-white feathers
drifting – no, two ducks!
Two specks in the indigo
like two pearls in enamel.

*

The arched wooden bridge
is as steep as a rainbow,
exasperating.
So we meet only rarely
right above the brilliant blue.

Christina Egan © 2016

Lower half dark blue water, upper half very steep bridge and branches in cream colours, dark blue strip of sky at top

Utagawa Hiroshige: Wisteria at Kameido Tenjin Shrine (1856). One hundred famous views of Edo, No. 57.

With thanks to the Royal Academy of Arts for the postcard and to the British Museum for the digital image.

In this Japanese verse pattern, the first three lines of each poem could stand for themselves, while the last two add another aspect.

Snow, Slow / Schnee, langsam

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Patio with some plants at far end covered in thick fresh snow.Snow, Slow
(Christmas Haiku)

Snow, slow, abundant,
covering the sleek black soil
like icing-sugar.

*

Flames of real candles
in the darkened room, like stars
visiting the earth.

*

Tinsel billowing
on the fir-twigs, as if stirred
by an angel’s wing.

***

Schnee, langsam
(Weihnachtshaiku)

Schnee, langsam, reichlich,
fällt auf blanke schwarze Erde…
wie Zuckerstaub.

*

Wachskerzenflammen
im Dämmer… wie Sterne,
herniedergestiegen.

*

Lametta flattert
an Zweigen… wie angerührt
von Engelsflügeln.

 Christina Egan © 2017

 

Real candles, even made of beeswax, are still common on Christmas trees in Germany, and lametta is used more sparingly and usually silver, reminiscent of snow.

Thick snow is nowadays a rare phenomenon in England… Note the tiny Christmas tree taken out after the festive days (and later planted into the soil!). – Photograph: Christina Egan © 2018.

Three Weeds

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Three Weeds

(August Tanka)

Small flowering weed coming out of a crack between concrete surfaces.I.

Tall weed in the crack,
its flowers like little suns,
its shadow of ink.
The proud weed and its shadow,
its echo: beauty enough.

II.

Tiny weeds coming out of cracks, with their shadows.Cushion by the path,
tiny purple trefoil leaves
embroidered with stars.
The drought has tinted the green,
drawn up the blood of the earth.

III.

The dandelion
bursting from between the slabs,
Dandelion and other weeds coming out of cracks.yellow, pure yellow.
This brief bright blossom calls out,
clear like brass, like a tuba.

IV.

Three weeds I noticed
finely stitched onto the stone,
shreds of tapestry.
Three weeds I noticed today
and how many did I not?

Christina Egan © 2018

Observations from the great heat and drought of summer 2018. If only we took the time to see, to listen, to feel…

Unplanned addition to the garden. – Photographs: Christina Egan © 2020.

Waiting for the Frog

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Warten auf den Frosch

Warme nasse Nacht:
Ich will sehn, wie der alte Frosch
in den Teich springt!
Hockt er da drüben, glänzend?
Ach, bloß ein Bündel Blätter…

Muddy pond with waterlilies amongst greenery.

Waiting for the Frog

In the warm wet night
I want to watch the old frog
leap into the pond!
Is he crouching there, shiny?
Oh, just a bundle of leaves…

Christina Egan © 2016

Muddy pond with tadpole amongst aquatic plants.

For another tanka about frogs in honour of Basho, see In Starless Night.

Frog pond. Note the tiny tadpole! Photographs: Christina Egan © 2014.

In Starless Night

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

In sternloser Nacht

In sternloser Nacht
ein Silberfleck auf dem Moos:
verirrtes Fröschlein…
In den Garten, ins Gedicht
und hinaus hüpfen Frösche!

Muddy pond with tadpole amongst aquatic plants.

In the starless night
a silver speck on the moss:
a little lost frog…
In and out of my garden,
of my poems, those frogs hop!

Christina Egan © 2017

Muddy pond with waterlilies amongst greenery.

For another tanka about frogs in honour of Basho, see Waiting for the Frog.

Frog pond. Note the tiny tadpole! Photographs: Christina Egan © 2014.

A Patterned Carpet

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Silk cloth dominated by vivid pinks and greens.A Patterned Carpet
(July Tanka)

A patterned carpet,
the city is unrolling
between the bus stops…
I roll it up in my eye
and send it on to a friend.

*

Fountain in round basin in park, flanked by large flowerpots

Clouds, high in the sky,
saturated with sunshine,
rapidly drifting –
like currents across oceans,
like thoughts across continents.

Christina Egan © 2012

 

 

The idea of the big city as a woven carpet is  also pursued in the German poem Geflechte.

Photographs: Silk cloth from Madagascar. © The Trustees of the British Museum. — Schloßgarten Fulda. Christina Egan © 2014.

Yellow Fire (April Haiku)

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

Yellow Fire
(April Haiku)

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Little rust-red leaves,
no, blood-red in the sunlight,
there, throbbing with life!

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White stars are floating,
above the ancient tombstones,
on the slanting tree.

*

Little lime-green leaves
running along the hedges,
look, like yellow fire!

*

Christina Egan © 2017

Drawing of three old-fashioned spinning tops.Illustration from
‘Children’s games throughout the year’ 
(1949) by Leslie Daiken.

The Palms and the Poet

~ Christina Egan ~ Leave a comment

The Palms and the Poet

Short sturdy palm-trees, their leaves being blown to one side by a strong wind; blue sky, bright lawn.The palm-trees where the poet lingers
stretch out a thousand feathery fingers
and offer sweetest dates.
The shoulder-high ones’ shining tresses
give to the passing knight caresses,
the tall ones, sprinkled shades.

They weave their silken wings together
to shield him from the weighing weather
and point him to the wells.
He seems to smile, but does not notice
the leaves nor fruits, for in his throat is
a spring of syllables.

Christina Egan © 2005

Pond with weeping willow reflected and white goose crossing.

 

Huge Harp

The weeping willow
is smiling in the sunshine,
dancing in the wind.
You sit by the pond beneath,
as if inside a huge harp.

Christina Egan © 2017

The tanka’s image of the poet beside a large harp or lyre, as if he were sitting inside, was inspired by stained-glass windows or illuminated manuscripts showing King David performing the psalms he is said to have composed.

Photographs: Christina Egan © 2014 / © 2018.