Until recently, I hadn’t written any poetry for quite awhile. Then we got this sudden cold and snow, which I am totally not used to, and almost every time I looked out the window or stepped out the door, I was struck by a haiku moment.
On one of the coldest nights, my dog went outside for a quick visit to the backyard. When I opened the door to let him back in, I stood for a moment, caught by the smell of the cold, the closeness of the sky, the breath of the house billowing out into the night…. lines of haiku began to form and reform in my mind, so that I had a hard time getting to sleep after that.
sharp scent of cold air
clouds drift out the open door
absorbed by stillness
gathering close
pale sky touches white trees
hushed in snow
And from the next day:
icicles drip
decorating eaves troughs
warmed by house breath
during the cold snap
rats take refuge in my attic
the cat’s ears twitch
Haiku is supposed to contain 17 syllables in lines of 5-7-5, but I don’t think it matters if you follow that exactly. What matters is the moment shared. Anyone else care to share a moment?
In my November 29 post, “haiku snapshot,” I included a poem about a crow:
black shape on white snow
fathomless as a deep hole
until the crow caws
In the comments, my friend Jean-Pierre, who has lived in Japan for over 15 years, translated my haiku into Japanese:
Yuki ni yurei
Fukai ana soko nashi
Karasu naku
When he translated it back to English again, it came out:
Ghost in the snow
Deep hole no bottom
Crow cries
creating a totally different poem. Check out Jean-Pierre’s comment for more details about the translation process.
