Three Haiku Poems on the Spring Moon

三句 春の月

ステイ ホーム! ここの老人ホームでは、我々はほぼ個室に閉じ込められている。しかし、幸いに窓からは山野と空が見える。春の月を眺めて、三句を得たので共有したい。
Stay home! Here at this home, we are more or less confined to our single rooms, but fortunately, we can see the mountains and fields, and above them a broad sky. Watching the spring moon, I managed to compose three haiku poems and would like to share them with you.

In the cold spring sky
There is nothing but the sharp
Sickle of the moon.

A star in her womb,
The new moon, floating in mist
Like a sick woman.

Early spring morning;
The moon sets, its pallid face
That of a drinker.

Sosui (Nobuyuki Yuasa)

5 responses to “Three Haiku Poems on the Spring Moon

  1. Unusual attributes for the moon. I confess I find them disconcerting.
    ‘A star in her womb /The new moon floating in mist…’ – very evocative. Very elegantly visual. The 3rd line, a reference to Covid 19? Intentionally jarring? ‘Palid face’ also evocative. Again the 3rd line comes as a shock. I feel I want to protest and hold up the moon’s reputation! Haiku no.1 – very tactlle – a clear sense of the chill of the ‘cold spring night’; the visual clarity of the empty sky, bar the tactile pointedness (and even hint of danger?) of that ‘sharp sickle’. Visually beautiful, slightly edgy. Reflecting on these in the wee small hours, the wind moans.

  2. I like the second haiku. It is misty moon night. I feel there is a vague star floating in mist near the crescent moon, but it is difficult to appreciate the first line. This new moon is just like a depressed woman, isn’t it?

      春月の病めるが如く黄なるかな    松本たかし
      shungetsu no yameru ga gotoku kinaru kana
                   Matsumoto Takashi
    名ある星春星としてみなうるむ    山口誓子
      na aru hoshi shunsei to shite mina urumu
    Yamaguchi Seishi


  3. Mr. Sosui: 春月3態いいですね。第2句は‘鬱’あるいは‘官能的’いずれかの佳句ですね。ところで、句会で「ステイホーム野原の散歩亀鳴いて」を出句しましたら、作者はステイホームしていない! と叱られました。「亀鳴く」は春の季語ですが、「鳴く」の適切な英訳語を御示唆頂ければ幸です。WhisperはMr. Titoによるone suggestionです。

  4. These are beautiful poems. Thank you.
    There is an early Imagist poem by the movement’s founder, T.E. Hulme, which your haiku brought to mind.

    A touch of cold in the Autumn night —
    I walked abroad,
    And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
    Like a red-faced farmer.
    I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
    And round about were the wistful stars
    With white faces like town children.

  5. I find the first poem captivating in how the word play and imagery combines three seasons in one. It’s also interesting that there is a period closing the verse.