The Oldest Haiku translations

The Oldest Haiku

These are my translations of some of the oldest Japanese waka, which evolved into poetic forms such as tanka, renga and haiku over time. My translations are excerpts from the Kojiki (the "Record of Ancient Matters"), a book composed around 711-712 A.D. by the historian and poet Ō no Yasumaro. These are lines from one of the oldest Japanese poems, found in the oldest Japanese book:

While you decline to cry,
high on the mountainside
a single stalk of plumegrass wilts.
―Ō no Yasumaro (circa 711), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Here's an excerpt with a humorous twist from the Kojiki:

Hush, cawing crows; what rackets you make!
Heaven's indignant messengers,
you remind me of wordsmiths!
―Ō no Yasumaro (circa 711), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Here's another, this one a poem of love and longing:

Onyx, this gem-black night.
Downcast, I await your return
like the rising sun, unrivaled in splendor.
―Ō no Yasumaro (circa 711), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

A Brief History and Chronology of Haiku

Snow-obscured heights,
mist-shrouded slopes:
this spring evening.
―Ilio Sōgi (1421-1502), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Soundlessly they go,
the herons passing by:
arrows of snow
filling the sky.
―Yamazaki Sōkan (1464-1552), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

O, fluttering moon,if only we
could hang a handle on you,
what a fan you would be!
―Yamazaki Sōkan (1464-1552), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Has an orphaned blossom
somehow returned to its bough?
No, a solitary butterfly!
―Arakida Moritake (1472-1549), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Life: a solitary butterfly
swaying unsteadily on a slender grass-stalk,
nothing more. But ah! so exquisite!
―Nishiyama Soin (1605-1682), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The hushed sound
of the scarecrow falling
gently to the ground!
―Nozawa Bonchō (1640-1714), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

When no wind at all
ruffles the Kiri tree
leaves fall of their own will.
―Nozawa Bonchō (1640-1714), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Sunlight slants
through a red pine grove:
the shrike's shriek.
―Nozawa Bonchō (1640-1714), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

This darkening autumn:
my neighbor,
how does he continue?
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch


Let us arrange
these lovely flowers in the bowl
since there's no rice
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Come, investigate loneliness!
a solitary leaf
clings to the Kiri tree
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The first chill rain: so raw!
Poor monkey, you could use
a cape of woven straw!
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

This snowy morning:
cries of the crow I despise
(ah, but so beautiful!)
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Like a heavy fragrance
snowflakes settle:
lilies on rocks
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The cheerful-chirping cricket
contends gray autumn's gay,
contemptuous of frost
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

An ancient pond,
the frog leaps:
the silver plop and gurgle of water.
―Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

When the blossoms
bloomed,
I understood the Way.
―Kyorai Mukai (1651-1704), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

While nobody's watching
the pepper pods redden.
―Kyorai Mukai (1651-1704), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Motionless spring mist:
mid-afternoon lethargy.
―Kyorai Mukai (1651-1704), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

My eyes,
having observed all sums,
returned to the white chrysanthemums.
―Kosugi Isshō (1652-1688), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

A white swan
parts the cherry-petalled pond
with her motionless breast.
Roka (1671-1703), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

NOTE: Roka became a pupil of Basho and studied haiku with him in 1694; that would have been in the last year of Basho's life.

These useless dreams, alas!
Over fields of desiccate grass
winds whisper as they pass.
―Uejima Onitsura (1661-1738), loose translation by Michael R. Burch 

Observe:
see how the wild violets bloom
within the forbidden fences!
―Shida Yaba (1663-1740), loose translation by Michael R. Burch 

Ah butterfly,
what dreams do you ply
with your beautiful wings?
―Fukuda Chiyo-ni (1703-1775), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Because morning glories
hold my well-bucket hostage
I go begging for water
―Fukuda Chiyo-ni (1703-1775), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Leaves,
like the shadows of crows
cast by a lonely moon.
―Fukuda Chiyo-ni (1703-1775), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

A kite floats
at the same place in the sky
where yesterday it floated ...
―Yosa Buson (1716-1783), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Since I'm left here alone,
I'll make friends with the harvest moon.
―Yosa Buson (1716-1783), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The pear tree flowers whitely―
a young woman reading his letter
by moonlight
―Yosa Buson, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Picking autumn plums
my wrinkled hands
once again grow fragrant
―Yosa Buson, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

White plum blossoms―
though the hour grows late,
a glimpse of dawn
―Yosa Buson (1716-1783), loose translation by Michael R. Burch; this is believed to be Buson's death poem and he is said to have died before dawn

Standing beneath cherry blossoms
who can be strangers?
―Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

An enormous frog!
We stare at each other,
both petrified.
―Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Skinny frog,
hang on ...
Issa to the rescue!
―Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Right at my feet!
When did you arrive here,
snail?
―Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I toss in my sleep,
so watch out,
cricket!
―Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Petals I amass
with such tenderness
prick me to the quick.
―Kobayashi Issa (1763-1827), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

The autumn wind eludes me;
for me there are no gods,
no Buddhas
―Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Such a small child
banished to become a priest:
frigid Siberia!
―Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I'm trying to sleep!
Please swat the flies
lightly
―Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

After killing a spider,
how lonely I felt
in the frigid night.
―Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

As the monks sip their morning tea,
chrysanthemums quietly blossom.
�"Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The fragrance of plum blossoms
on a foggy path:
the sun rising.
�"Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The sea darkens ...
yet still faintly white
the wild duck protests.
�"Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Pear tree blossoms
whitened by moonlight:
a young woman reading a letter.
�"Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Outlined in the moonlight ...
who is that standing
among the pear trees?
�"Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your coolness:
the sound of the bell
departing the bell.
�"Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As the moon flies west
the flowers' shadows
creep eastward.
�"Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

By such pale moonlight
even the wisteria's fragrance
seems distant.
�"Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Leaves
like crows’ shadows
flirt with a lonely moon.
Kaga no Chiyo (1703-1775), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let me die
covered with flowers
and never again wake to this earthly dream!
�"Ochi Etsujin, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To reveal how your heart flowers,
sway like the summer grove.
�"Tagami Kikusha-Ni (1753-1826), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In the thicket's shade
a solitary woman sings the rice-planting song.
Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Unaware of these degenerate times,
cherry blossoms abound!
Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

These silent summer nights
even the stars
seem to whisper.
Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The enormous firefly
weaves its way, this way and that,
as it passes by.
Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Composed like the Thinker, he sits
contemplating the mountains:
the sagacious frog!
Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A fallen blossom
returning to its bough?
No, a butterfly!
Arakida Moritake (1473-1549), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Illuminated by the harvest moon
smoke is caught creeping
across the water ...
Hattori Ransetsu (1654-1707), loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fanning its tail flamboyantly
with every excuse of a breeze,
the peacock!
Masaoki Shiki (1867-1902), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Waves row through the mists
of the endless sea.
Masaoki Shiki (1867-1902), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

I hurl a firefly into the darkness
and sense the enormity of night.
�"Kyoshi Takahama (1874-1959), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

As girls gather rice sprouts
reflections of the rain ripple
on the backs of their hats.
�"Kyoshi Takahama (1874-1959), loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Reviews

[Jack Baird]

These are really nice thanks, quite a few I didn't know

[Michael R. Burch]

I'm glad you liked my translations and thanks for taking the time to read and comment. That is much appreciated.