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Bashō's Haiku: Selected Poems of Matsuo Bashō
Basho's Haiku offers the most comprehensive translation yet of the poetry of Japanese writer Matsuo Basho (1644-1694), who is credited with perfecting and popularizing the haiku form of poetry. One of the most widely read Japanese writers, both within his own country and worldwide, Basho is especially beloved by those who appreciate nature and those who practice Zen Buddhism. Born into the samurai class, Basho rejected that world after the death of his master and became a wandering poet and teacher. During his travels across Japan, he became a lay Zen monk and studied history and classical poetry. His poems contained a mystical quality and expressed universal themes through simple images from the natural world. David Landis Barnhill's brilliant book strives for literal translations of Basho's work, arranged chronologically in order to show Basho's development as a writer. Avoiding wordy and explanatory translations, Barnhill captures the brevity and vitality of the original Japanese, letting the images suggest the depth of meaning involved. Barnhill also presents an overview of haiku poetry and analyzes the significance of nature in this literary form, while suggesting the importance of Basho to contemporary American literature and environmental thought.
346 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1996
15 people are currently reading
356 people want to read
About the author
Matsuo Bashō
273 books570 followersKnown Japanese poet Matsuo Basho composed haiku, infused with the spirit of Zen.
The renowned Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉) during his lifetime of the period of Edo worked in the collaborative haikai no renga form; people today recognize this most famous brief and clear master.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matsuo_...
The renowned Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉) during his lifetime of the period of Edo worked in the collaborative haikai no renga form; people today recognize this most famous brief and clear master.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matsuo_...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews
January 27, 2018
Little drops of nature. I really liked Basho's poetry. You might think that haiku writers are just lazy guys that could write a whole book with 50 little poems. But not everybody can say that much in just three lines. There's a 5-7-5 syllable structure to play with, and you have to be able to capture nature's astonishing moments in a couple of words.
It was a nice read.
Aug 05, 13
* Also on my blog.
It was a nice read.
Aug 05, 13
* Also on my blog.
August 11, 2022
Little gems, little 'pictures' in which the poor poet tells us about his lonely life, his travels, his observation of the nature and the change of seasons, his sensations and emotions along the way.
Feelings in my thatched hut
banana in a windstorm:
a night of listening to rain
dripping in the tub
at a poor mountain temple,
a kettle crying in the frost,
the voice frigid
the year ending
with echoes of pounding rice-cakes—
a desolate sleep
the bell fades away,
the blossoms’ fragrance ringing:
early evening
eccentric—
on grass devoid of fragrance,
a butterfly settles
spend nights on a journey,
then you’ll know my poems—
autumn wind
Feelings in my thatched hut
banana in a windstorm:
a night of listening to rain
dripping in the tub
at a poor mountain temple,
a kettle crying in the frost,
the voice frigid
the year ending
with echoes of pounding rice-cakes—
a desolate sleep
the bell fades away,
the blossoms’ fragrance ringing:
early evening
eccentric—
on grass devoid of fragrance,
a butterfly settles
spend nights on a journey,
then you’ll know my poems—
autumn wind
April 2, 2017
In summer rains
The crane's legs
become short
Leaving the hot springs
Looking back how many times --
Beneath the mist
Ill on a journey:
My dreams roam round
over withered fields
Three of Basho's poems, from early, middle and late career. These new translations bring vividly to the present this poet who wandered around Japan over 300 years ago, writing of the moon, the rains, the call of the cuckoo, and the changing of the seasons. In a moment the distance and time can vanish and you are suddenly there with him, understanding something of what he's feeling, and catching a glimpse of what he's seeing. Basho's poetry link us together as humans even though we are far apart. What's not to love?
The crane's legs
become short
Leaving the hot springs
Looking back how many times --
Beneath the mist
Ill on a journey:
My dreams roam round
over withered fields
Three of Basho's poems, from early, middle and late career. These new translations bring vividly to the present this poet who wandered around Japan over 300 years ago, writing of the moon, the rains, the call of the cuckoo, and the changing of the seasons. In a moment the distance and time can vanish and you are suddenly there with him, understanding something of what he's feeling, and catching a glimpse of what he's seeing. Basho's poetry link us together as humans even though we are far apart. What's not to love?
April 16, 2023
This is what Basho's Haiku feels like:
ivy planted,
and four or five stalks of bamboo
in the windstorm
dew trickles down:
in it I would try to wash away
the dust of the floating world
pine-filled berms
and blossoms – a manor built
deep in the forest
ivy planted,
and four or five stalks of bamboo
in the windstorm
dew trickles down:
in it I would try to wash away
the dust of the floating world
pine-filled berms
and blossoms – a manor built
deep in the forest
April 2, 2025
basho’s haiku are simple yet profound capturing nature emotions and reflections on life the book also includes additional explanations about the context of each poem helping readers better understand the poet’s intentions those interested in japanese literature lovers of short yet deep poetry and people who want to train their eyes to see beauty in the small details of life u should give it a try!!
March 4, 2021
It definitely IS a work of art, but it was an obvious risk I took and I knew it might not end up really well.
Poetry other than arabic is just not my thing, never was never will be. Still a work of art though!
Poetry other than arabic is just not my thing, never was never will be. Still a work of art though!
December 22, 2012
This is an extraordinary book on two counts: it is a penetrating commentary on Zen as lived by the poet Basho', and it is an exemplary translation of Basho's poetry.
What makes Basho's Haiku stand out? Translators of haiku, of which there have been many, have employed a variety of strategies in attempting to render the compact haiku form into English. In translating Basho, the author has adopted the only sensible strategy: he dispenses with the 5-7-5 syllable structure, for the simple reason that it doesn't work in English, and he resists any temptation to impose western poetic conventions. Instead, he focuses on capturing the Zen spirit of Basho'. It is here, in conveying the spirit of Basho's haiku, that Barnhill proves himself an adept.
For each poem, the author first gives his English translation, followed by a romanized version (ro'maji), and a literal, word-for-word transliteration of the Japanese. This allows the reader to appreciate both what the original poem looked like, and the liberties taken by the translator in `creating' an English version. This format discloses the translation process with uncommon honesty. It both allows and compels Barnhill to explain and justify his translations. Here is an example: The Old Pond
(First Barnhill's translation)
The old pond;
A frog jumps in--
The sound of water.
(Then the ro'maji)
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
(Then the literal transliteration)
Old pond!
frog jumps in
water of sound
Then, in a section called "The Form," Barnhill provides a detailed explanation of the pertinent grammatical features, such as the cutting word, "ya," and how the poem's structure creates its poetic effects. This section is then followed by the author's commentary: historical, poetical, and Zen-influenced. In his commentary, he provides critical evaluations of other translations, assessing their fidelity to the original, and provides a rationale for his own version. I personally found this commentary very helpful in appreciating Basho's haiku.
If you are interested in Bash'o, in haiku in general, in poetry, or in Zen, I think you'll find this an exceptional book.
What makes Basho's Haiku stand out? Translators of haiku, of which there have been many, have employed a variety of strategies in attempting to render the compact haiku form into English. In translating Basho, the author has adopted the only sensible strategy: he dispenses with the 5-7-5 syllable structure, for the simple reason that it doesn't work in English, and he resists any temptation to impose western poetic conventions. Instead, he focuses on capturing the Zen spirit of Basho'. It is here, in conveying the spirit of Basho's haiku, that Barnhill proves himself an adept.
For each poem, the author first gives his English translation, followed by a romanized version (ro'maji), and a literal, word-for-word transliteration of the Japanese. This allows the reader to appreciate both what the original poem looked like, and the liberties taken by the translator in `creating' an English version. This format discloses the translation process with uncommon honesty. It both allows and compels Barnhill to explain and justify his translations. Here is an example: The Old Pond
(First Barnhill's translation)
The old pond;
A frog jumps in--
The sound of water.
(Then the ro'maji)
Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
(Then the literal transliteration)
Old pond!
frog jumps in
water of sound
Then, in a section called "The Form," Barnhill provides a detailed explanation of the pertinent grammatical features, such as the cutting word, "ya," and how the poem's structure creates its poetic effects. This section is then followed by the author's commentary: historical, poetical, and Zen-influenced. In his commentary, he provides critical evaluations of other translations, assessing their fidelity to the original, and provides a rationale for his own version. I personally found this commentary very helpful in appreciating Basho's haiku.
If you are interested in Bash'o, in haiku in general, in poetry, or in Zen, I think you'll find this an exceptional book.
February 2, 2017
Almost everything I wanted in a Kindle edition of Basho's poems. More than 600 haiku in reliable translations and good notes--I checked many against explanations in Japanese editions. Well designed for Kindle reading. With romanization but without Japanese text. (The Basho database at Yamanashi University meant the texts were easy to find.)
February 10, 2013
I really like this translation, and the notes are nice. With poems this small, translation is extra important. If you like his poems, it's definitely worth reading multiple translations.
August 23, 2015
Over seven hundred haikus, plus extensive notes.
"the dignified stature
of the oak, indifferent
to the blossoms"
"the whole family
white haired, leaning on canes
a graveyard visit"
"the dignified stature
of the oak, indifferent
to the blossoms"
"the whole family
white haired, leaning on canes
a graveyard visit"
May 2, 2014
I read and reread a few pages of this regularly. Love it.
November 28, 2014
Of the poetry of Basho, the itinerant 17th-century Japanese master, roughly 980 hokku have come down to us. Hokku, you say? In traditional Japanese poetry, a hokku is the initial stanza of a linked cycle of verses. Formally, it must always express a clear reference to a season of the year (kigo), and structurally it must stand on its own. With time, hokku also often came to be appreciated as single verses, that is, not strictly part of longer cycles. The hokku bears strong similarity to the better-known - and later - haiku form, and in contemporary culture the two are largely identified by the latter term. Yes, the rough equivalent - the very rough equivalent - of those 5-7-5 rhythm poems they taught us to write in grammar school. Born into a low-ranking samurai family, Basho could have become a warrior, instead he chose poetry, grew into a master of the form, and the universe is the better for it.
So why read these? In this excellent treatment of Basho's poetry, Dr. David Landis Barnhill has translated and annotated 724 of the 980 hokku into English and, overall, the effect is bewitching. I found the author's willingness to acquaint us with the philosophy of Basho particularly helpful. By bringing us into that culture, we are edified in a fashion rarely encountered in a throwaway world. We are left with an understanding of the source of the grace that marks Basho's writing, a grace which is largely obscured in our own lives, and too often wholly absent from our literature. Among the ideas that most resonated with me was this: "...the natural world and the experience of nature are not wholly distinct. Each implies the other in a way that is similar to the school of phenomenology." And this: "...nature and culture are not separate...poetry is a natural expression of human feeling, akin to birdsong."
And that, to me, is why we read these. For the spare "hermeneutical space" that characterizes Basho's work, and allows us to enter the poem. For the resistance to over-explanation and the constraints of naïve empiricism. For the love of ambiguity. For the spirit in the world that is our spirit. For the chance to fly. For the call to stop and truly hear birdsong and the wind in the leaves. And for the gift of being allowed to slow down and consider:
like clouds drifting apart,
a wild goose separates, for now,
from his friend.
So why read these? In this excellent treatment of Basho's poetry, Dr. David Landis Barnhill has translated and annotated 724 of the 980 hokku into English and, overall, the effect is bewitching. I found the author's willingness to acquaint us with the philosophy of Basho particularly helpful. By bringing us into that culture, we are edified in a fashion rarely encountered in a throwaway world. We are left with an understanding of the source of the grace that marks Basho's writing, a grace which is largely obscured in our own lives, and too often wholly absent from our literature. Among the ideas that most resonated with me was this: "...the natural world and the experience of nature are not wholly distinct. Each implies the other in a way that is similar to the school of phenomenology." And this: "...nature and culture are not separate...poetry is a natural expression of human feeling, akin to birdsong."
And that, to me, is why we read these. For the spare "hermeneutical space" that characterizes Basho's work, and allows us to enter the poem. For the resistance to over-explanation and the constraints of naïve empiricism. For the love of ambiguity. For the spirit in the world that is our spirit. For the chance to fly. For the call to stop and truly hear birdsong and the wind in the leaves. And for the gift of being allowed to slow down and consider:
like clouds drifting apart,
a wild goose separates, for now,
from his friend.
June 27, 2020
What I find most fascinating about Basho's haiku is the implicit tension between past, present and future.
Let me elaborate:
Bashō was a follower of Zen, a practice that is devoted to being present. Zen's ultimate goal is the perfection of personhood, and it aims to do so by quieting thoughts and feelings. Things that tie us to the non-existent past and yet-to-come future. The only way to achieve oneness (or 'Not-two' to use the Zen term, the erasure of ego to remove any sense of separation from nature) is to be mindful of the current moment, to exist in the now.
But poetry, and indeed all art, cannot help but be mementos. Maybe a poem can be written that reflects the exact moment it is being written at, i.e. the present. But the present passes in a flash, and any future reader of the poem will be transported back into the past, to the moment when the poem was written.
Thus we have a dilemma. A seeming paradox. Because almost all of Bashō's haiku are exactly that: beautiful, vivid attempts to capture the present. But when I read them, hundreds of years after his death, I can't help but see images of the distant past. Can't help but be yanked out of the present.
So, does Zen truly allow room for art?
I don't really know. A Zen master would probably tell me it's a false dichotomy created by misuse (or just use) of language.
And I might be inclined to believe them.
Let me elaborate:
Bashō was a follower of Zen, a practice that is devoted to being present. Zen's ultimate goal is the perfection of personhood, and it aims to do so by quieting thoughts and feelings. Things that tie us to the non-existent past and yet-to-come future. The only way to achieve oneness (or 'Not-two' to use the Zen term, the erasure of ego to remove any sense of separation from nature) is to be mindful of the current moment, to exist in the now.
But poetry, and indeed all art, cannot help but be mementos. Maybe a poem can be written that reflects the exact moment it is being written at, i.e. the present. But the present passes in a flash, and any future reader of the poem will be transported back into the past, to the moment when the poem was written.
Thus we have a dilemma. A seeming paradox. Because almost all of Bashō's haiku are exactly that: beautiful, vivid attempts to capture the present. But when I read them, hundreds of years after his death, I can't help but see images of the distant past. Can't help but be yanked out of the present.
So, does Zen truly allow room for art?
I don't really know. A Zen master would probably tell me it's a false dichotomy created by misuse (or just use) of language.
And I might be inclined to believe them.
February 24, 2024
"Written during illness
ill on a journey:
my dreams roam around
over withered fields"
Basho died three days later.
This entire compilation has prompted so much creativity in me. I wrote like I never did, trying to say enough with as little words as possible. Whether I failed or succeeded, the little gems in this book and this man from the 1600s of Japan will always be dear to my heart.
ill on a journey:
my dreams roam around
over withered fields"
Basho died three days later.
This entire compilation has prompted so much creativity in me. I wrote like I never did, trying to say enough with as little words as possible. Whether I failed or succeeded, the little gems in this book and this man from the 1600s of Japan will always be dear to my heart.
July 30, 2011
A large selection of poems, but suffers from a fairly lifeless translation and only sometimes helpful notes.
February 17, 2019
Fascinating. Repetitive. Fascinating in its repetition.
June 30, 2021
Favorites:
foolishly, in the dark,
he grabs a thorn:
hunting fireflies
the bell fades away,
the blossoms' fragrance ringing:
early evening
just as I scoop it,
it rings in my teeth:
spring water
say something
and the lips go cold:
autumn wind
with a full wine cup
I drink to three names
this evening
overcome with illness,
I can't eat a rice cake:
peach blossoms
with a young leaf
I would wipe the tears
from your eyes
where is the moon?
the temple bell sunk
to the bottom of the sea
sunk in sorrow,
make me feel loneliness
mountain cuckoo
on the gold screen
a pine of great age -
winter seclusion
foolishly, in the dark,
he grabs a thorn:
hunting fireflies
the bell fades away,
the blossoms' fragrance ringing:
early evening
just as I scoop it,
it rings in my teeth:
spring water
say something
and the lips go cold:
autumn wind
with a full wine cup
I drink to three names
this evening
overcome with illness,
I can't eat a rice cake:
peach blossoms
with a young leaf
I would wipe the tears
from your eyes
where is the moon?
the temple bell sunk
to the bottom of the sea
sunk in sorrow,
make me feel loneliness
mountain cuckoo
on the gold screen
a pine of great age -
winter seclusion
Read
March 19, 2020the faces of blossoms,
do they make you shy?
hazy moon
among blossoms:
grieving that I can’t even open
my poem bag
wake up! wake up!
let's be friends,
sleeping butterfly
ah spring, spring,
great is spring,
etcetera
do they make you shy?
hazy moon
among blossoms:
grieving that I can’t even open
my poem bag
wake up! wake up!
let's be friends,
sleeping butterfly
ah spring, spring,
great is spring,
etcetera
June 29, 2020
Iris blossoms:
conversations about them are
one joy of the journey
Beautiful, evocative, moving poetry, both simple and nuanced in a fascinating way. I think I may curate my favorites for various seasons and return to them every year.
conversations about them are
one joy of the journey
Beautiful, evocative, moving poetry, both simple and nuanced in a fascinating way. I think I may curate my favorites for various seasons and return to them every year.
on-hold
March 10, 202012
“blossoming waves:
has snow returned to water,
flowering out of season?”
“blossoming waves:
has snow returned to water,
flowering out of season?”
May 31, 2022
I’m more firmly convinced that even on communism I’m going to still not be at ease.
May 8, 2023
Majority of the stuff is uncomprehensible because of the cultural references. But the rest is as good as haiku can get.
November 12, 2017
Not much to say: 724 of Basho's haiku collected, and the translation is among the best I have read thus far - even when it is not the best in rare cases. Word-for-word translation and explanation for most given notes - which must be read parallel if you are not familiar with Japanese culture.
While reading, I translated over a 100 into Hindi, and stuck to 5-7-5 in my translations. Going to reread the book now - because I have a feeling I rushed through it in the first go.
Get a copy.
While reading, I translated over a 100 into Hindi, and stuck to 5-7-5 in my translations. Going to reread the book now - because I have a feeling I rushed through it in the first go.
Get a copy.
May 1, 2024
One can take one's pick of translations into English of Basho's poetry, which to readers like me who haven't an iota of Japanese, becomes an exercise in whose style of interpretation one prefers on its own merits. For example, I have read a number of translations of Basho's haiku, and for reasons probably having little to do with Basho's actual verse, I find myself partial to David Barnhill's version overall. In part, this may be thanks to the cogent, helpful introduction by the translator which gives a good sense of the perspective and aims of Basho's writing, and the climate in which he wrote.
It's nice to think when reading any poetry in translation that some grasp of the original makes its way through, though we can't pretend that any rendition of verse perfectly captures the original from a language we don't know. Words can for the most part be translated, but we know that poetry is far more than just words. Nevertheless, whatever version I read of Basho, there is something that makes its way through that makes me feel like I'm gaining glimpses of a place far away, long ago, and uniquely beautiful.
It's nice to think when reading any poetry in translation that some grasp of the original makes its way through, though we can't pretend that any rendition of verse perfectly captures the original from a language we don't know. Words can for the most part be translated, but we know that poetry is far more than just words. Nevertheless, whatever version I read of Basho, there is something that makes its way through that makes me feel like I'm gaining glimpses of a place far away, long ago, and uniquely beautiful.
January 1, 2017
I've read that Basho is the poet who invented the haiku, and he's also the one responsible for the famous 'frog jumping into a pond' poem everyone knows and loves. True to his reputation, this was a lovely compilation that gave me truly vivid, visceral images of his life in traditional Japanese society. Heck, Basho himself just seems like a tranquil, merry and understanding person - the kind of joyfully meditative grandpa everyone wishes they had. I've bookmarked 17 favourites to come back to, but could have done with many more.
August 3, 2007
You can never have too many translations of Basho.
May 14, 2009
A good edition but still haven't found what I'm looking for.
February 20, 2017
I have been sharing a page a day on a Japanese Death Poem group on Facebook for months now.
not finished but completely life affirming
not finished but completely life affirming
January 3, 2023
The whole field
planted with rice - now I separate
from the willow tree
planted with rice - now I separate
from the willow tree
Want to read
February 22, 2013great!
Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews