The world of nature and the world of man in Japanese haiku. The most beautiful three-verses written by Russian schoolchildren based on classic Japanese haiku
The beauty of poetry enchants almost all people. No wonder they say that music can tame even the most ferocious beast. This is where the beauty of creativity sinks deep into the soul. How are the poems different? Why are the Japanese three-line haiku so attractive? And how to learn to perceive their deep meaning?
The beauty of Japanese poetry
The light of the moon and the fragile tenderness of the morning snow inspire Japanese poets to create three lines of unusual brightness and depth. Japanese haiku is a poem characterized by lyricism. In addition, it may be unfinished and leave room for imagination and thoughtful reflection. Haiku (or haiku) poetry does not tolerate haste or harshness. The philosophy of these creations of the soul is directed directly to the hearts of the listeners and reflects the hidden thoughts and secrets of the writer. The common people are very fond of creating these short poetic formulas, where there are no superfluous words, and the syllable harmoniously passes from folk to literary, continuing to develop and give rise to new poetic forms.
The emergence of a national poetic form
The original poetic forms, so famous in Japan, are five-line and three-line lines (tanka and haiku). Tanka is literally interpreted as a short song. It was originally called folk songs that appeared at the dawn of Japanese history. Nagauts, which were distinguished by their excessive length, were forced out into the tank. Epic and lyrical songs of variable length have been preserved in folklore. Many years later, Japanese haiku separated from tanka during the heyday of urban culture. Hokku contains all the wealth In the history of poetry in Japan there were periods of both prosperity and decline. There were also moments when Japanese haiku could disappear altogether. But for big period time, it became obvious that short and capacious poetic forms are a necessity and an urgent need for poetry. Such forms of poetry can be composed quickly, under a storm of emotions. You can put your hot thought into metaphors or aphorisms, making it memorable, reflecting praise or reproach with it.
Characteristic features of Japanese poetry
Japanese haiku poetry is distinguished by its desire for conciseness, conciseness of forms, love for minimalism, which is inherent in Japanese national art, which is universal and can create minimalistic and monumental images with equal virtuosity. Why is Japanese haiku so popular and attractive? First of all, this is a concise thought, reflected by the thoughts of ordinary citizens who are wary of the traditions of classical poetry. Japanese haiku becomes the bearer of a capacious idea and most of all responds to the demands of growing generations. The beauty of Japanese poetry is in the depiction of those objects that are close to every person. It shows the life of nature and man in harmonious unity against the backdrop of the changing seasons. Japanese poetry is syllabic, with a rhythm based on the alternation of the number of syllables. Rhyme in haiku is unimportant, but the sound and rhythmic organization of the three-line is primary.
The size of the poems
Only the unenlightened think that this original verse has no parameters and no limitations. Japanese haiku has a fixed meter with a certain number of syllables. Each verse has its own number: in the first - five, in the second - seven, and in the third - only seventeen syllables. But this does not limit poetic liberty in any way. A real creator will never reckon with the meter in achieving poetic expressiveness.
The small size of haiku makes even a European sonnet monumental. The art of writing Japanese haiku lies precisely in the ability to express thoughts in a concise form. In this respect, haiku is similar to folk proverbs. The main differences between such proverbs and haiku lie in genre features. Japanese haiku is not an edifying saying, not a well-aimed witticism, but a poetic picture, framed in a few strokes. The task of the poet is in the lyrical excitement, the flight of the imagination and the detail of the picture. Haiku japanese examples has even in the works of Chekhov. In his letters, he describes the beauty of moonlit nights, stars and black shadows.
Necessary elements of the work of Japanese poets
The way of creating Japanese three-line poems requires the maximum activity of the writer, complete immersion in creativity. It is impossible to simply skim through the collection of haiku without focusing attention. Each poem requires thoughtful reading and philosophical reflection. A passive reader will not be able to feel the impulse inherent in the content of creation. Only with the joint work of the thoughts of the reader and the creator, true art is born, just as the swing of the bow and the trembling of the string give birth to music. The miniature size of haiku does not at all make it easier for the creator, because it means that you need to fit the immensity into a small number of words, and there is simply no time for a lengthy presentation of your thoughts. In order not to expound the meaning hastily, the writer looks for a climax in every phenomenon.
Heroes of Japanese haiku
Many poets express their thoughts and emotions in haiku by giving the main role to a particular object. Some poets reflect the people's worldview with a loving depiction of small forms and the assertion of their right to life. Poets stand up in their creations for insects, amphibians, simple peasants and gentlemen. Therefore, the examples of Japanese haiku three-line examples have a social sound. The emphasis on small forms allows you to paint a picture of a large scale.
The beauty of nature in verse
Japanese haiku about nature is akin to painting, as it often becomes the transmission of the plot of paintings and a source of inspiration for artists. Sometimes haiku is a special component of a painting, which is presented as a calligraphic inscription under it. A prime example Buson's terse is considered to be such a work:
"Curse flowers around. The sun goes out in the west. The moon rises in the east."
Describes the wide fields covered yellow flowers colza, which seem especially bright in the rays of sunset. The fiery solar ball effectively contrasts with the pallor of the rising moon. There are no details in haiku showing the lighting effect and color palette, but it does offer A New Look to the picture. The grouping of the main elements and details of the picture depends on the poet. The laconic manner of depiction makes Japanese haiku related to ukiyo-e color engraving:
The spring rain is pouring!
They talk along the way
Umbrella and mino.
This Buson haiku is a genre scene in the spirit of ukiyo-e woodblock prints. Its meaning is in the conversation of two passers-by under the spring rain. One of them is covered with an umbrella, and the second is dressed in a straw cloak - mino. The peculiarity of this haiku is the fresh breath of spring and subtle humor, close to the grotesque.
Images in the poems of Japanese poets
The poet who creates Japanese haiku often prefers not visual, but sound images. Each sound is filled with a special meaning, feeling and mood. The howl of the wind, the chirping of cicadas, the cries of a pheasant, the singing of a nightingale and a lark, the voice of a cuckoo can be reflected in the poem. This is how haiku is remembered, describing a whole orchestra that sounds in the forest.
The lark sings.
With a ringing blow in the thicket
The pheasant echoes him.
(Basho)
Readers do not have a three-dimensional panorama of associations and images, but a thought awakens with certain directions. The poems resemble a monochrome ink drawing, without unnecessary details. Only a few skillfully selected elements help to create a brilliant picture of late autumn in its brevity. One feels the pre-wind silence and the sad immobility of nature. The light contour of the image nevertheless has an increased capacity and fascinates with its depth. And even if only nature is described in the poem, the state of the poet's soul, his painful loneliness, is felt.
Flight of the reader's imagination
The attraction of haiku lies in feedback. Only this poetic form allows you to have equal opportunities with writers. The reader becomes a co-author. And he can be guided by his imagination in depicting the image. Together with the poet, the reader experiences sadness, shares anguish and plunges into the depths of personal experiences. Over the long centuries of existence, ancient haiku have not become less profound. Japanese haiku rather does not show, but hints and prompts. The poet Issa expressed his longing for the dead child in haiku:
Our life is a dewdrop.
Let only a drop of dew
Our life is still...
At the same time, dew is a metaphor for the frailty of life. Buddhism teaches the brevity and ephemeral nature of human life and its low value. But still, the father cannot come to terms with the loss. loved one and cannot relate to life like a philosopher. His silence at the end of the stanza says more than words.
Inconsistency in hockey
An obligatory element of Japanese haiku is reticence and the ability to independently continue the line of the creator. Most often, the verse contains two meaningful words, and the rest is formalities and exclamations. All unnecessary details are discarded, leaving the bare facts without embellishment. Poetic means are selected very sparingly, since, if possible, metaphors and epithets are not used. It also happens that Japanese haiku verses are but at the same time direct meaning lies in the subtext.
From the heart of a peony
The bee crawls slowly...
Oh, with what reluctance!
Basho wrote this poem at the moment of parting with his friend's house and clearly conveyed all the emotions.
The Japanese position of haiku was and remains an innovative art owned by ordinary people: merchants, artisans, peasants and even beggars. Sincere feelings and natural emotions inherent in every person make people of different classes related.
The tradition of writing poetry in Japan has been passed down from generation to generation for centuries. With each new century, under the influence of time and cultural development, Japanese haiku poems underwent a number of changes, new rules for adding and writing poetry were developed and improved. Today, Japanese haiku verses have their own rules for versification, which are unshakable, cannot be adjusted, and must be strictly observed by everyone who wants to compose haiku.
Haiku is not easy Japanese verse
This is part of Japanese culture, for which the Japanese have great respect and love. Japanese haiku, like Japanese poetry itself as a whole, has distinctive features from the poetry of the Eastern and European schools.
Japanese poetry was formed under the influence of Zen - Buddhism,
which dictated the rules of minimalism, and the main theme is complete immersion in one subject, its comprehensive consideration, contemplation and understanding. Despite the fact that haiku is the poetry of minimalism, with a minimum of words, each word carries a great semantic load.
Japanese poetry, which has come down to our days, is represented by two types:
- japanese haiku ternary,
- five lines - tanka.
In order to understand haiku, it is necessary to have a background knowledge of Japanese history and culture.
Tanka- Japanese five-line, over the time of its development, it was formed into two types - two-line and three-line. In many cases, the authorship of the tanka belonged to several poets, one composed the first stanza, the second poet supplemented the tanka with the second stanza.
In the XII century, the so-called chains of verses began to form, which consisted of a three-line and a couplet, interconnected. The three-verse was called the "initial stanza", which was subsequently brought out into an independent terse - haiku. The opening stanza was the strongest point in the verse.
Initially, haiku was considered the pampering of Japanese peasants, and over time, representatives of the nobility began to get involved in compiling haiku. Every respected Japanese nobleman had a court poet with him. Poets, often, were representatives of simple working strata of the population, who, by the strength of their talent and craving for creativity, were able to make their way.
haiku refers to lyric poetry, which sings of nature, palace intrigues, love and unbridled passion. The main theme of haiku is the interaction of nature and man, their complete fusion.
In the 5th - 7th centuries, strict rules were applied to the addition of haiku and 
regulations that did not allow many, even very talented poets, to become famous. The most famous Japanese poets of that time are Issa And Basho who devoted their lives to the art of composing haiku.
The main talent of haiku is to say a lot using a minimum of words.
In three lines that contain no more than 10 words, you can tell a whole story.
The basic rules for the addition of haiku, which were formed in the 5th - 7th centuries - the 5-7-5 rule, are still applied today. Today, haiku is not just a Japanese three-verse, it is a separate area of Japanese culture, respected and revered.
Hokku flourished in the 17th century
It was during this period that haiku became a work of art. The famous poet of that time, Basho, brought haiku to new level revolutionized the world of poetry. He discarded all unnecessary elements and features of comedy from haiku, making the haiku rule 5-7-5 the main one, which is still used by Japanese poets of our time, and observance of which is the main rule for adding haiku.
Each poet who undertakes to write haiku faces a difficult task - to instill in the reader a lyrical mood, arouse boundless interest and awaken the imagination that draws colorful pictures when reading a three-verse.
It would seem that what can be said using only 17 syllables? But it is they who are able to immerse the reader in another, colorful world full of fantasies and philosophy. Hokku is able to change the worldview of a person, awakening in him philosophical view for everyday things.
Video: Haiku by Japanese poet Issa
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Don't imitate me too much!
Look, what's the use of such a resemblance?
Two halves of a melon. For students
I want at least once
Go to the market on holidays
Buy tobacco
"Autumn has already arrived!"
The wind whispered in my ear
Creeping up to my pillow.
One hundred times more noble
Who does not say at the flash of lightning:
"This is our life!"
All the worries, all the sadness
Of my troubled heart
Give it to the flexible willow.
What freshness blows
From this melon in drops of dew,
With sticky wet earth!
In the garden where the irises opened,
Chat with an old friend,
What a reward for a traveler!
Cold mountain spring.
I did not have time to scoop up a handful of water,
How the teeth are already broken
Here's a connoisseur's quirk!
On a flower without fragrance
The moth dropped.
Come on, friends!
Let's go wandering through the first snow,
Until we fall off our feet.
Evening bindweed
I'm captured... Still
I am in oblivion.
Frost hid him
The wind makes his bed...
Abandoned child.
There is such a moon in the sky
Like a tree cut down at the root:
White fresh cut.
The yellow leaf floats.
Which coast, cicada,
Do you suddenly wake up?
How the river overflowed!
The heron wanders on short legs
Knee-deep in water.
Like a banana moaning in the wind,
How drops fall into a tub,
I hear all night long. In a thatched hut
Willow leaned over and sleeps.
And it seems to me, a nightingale on a branch ...
This is her soul.
Top-top is my horse.
I see myself in the picture -
In the expanse of summer meadows.
You hear suddenly "shorch-shorch".
Sadness stirs in my heart...
Bamboo on a frosty night.
Butterflies flying
Wakes up a quiet meadow
In the rays of the sun
How the autumn wind whistles!
Then only understand my poems,
When you spend the night in the field.
And I want to live in autumn
To this butterfly: drinks hastily
Dew from the chrysanthemum.
Flowers withered.
Seeds are falling, falling
Like tears...
gusty sheet
Hid in a bamboo grove
And gradually calmed down.
Take a close look!
Shepherd's purse flowers
You will see under the fence.
Oh, wake up, wake up!
Become my friend
Sleeping moth!
They fly to the ground
Going back to old roots...
Separation of flowers! In memory of a friend
Old pond.
The frog jumped into the water.
A surge in silence.
Autumn Moon Festival.
Around the pond and around again
All night long!
That's all I'm rich in!
Light as my life
Pumpkin gourd. Grain storage jug
First snow in the morning.
He barely covered
Narcissus leaves.
The water is so cold!
Seagull can't sleep
Ride on the wave.
The pitcher burst with a crash:
At night, the water in it froze.
I woke up suddenly.
Moon or morning snow...
Admiring the beautiful, I lived as I wanted.
This is how I end the year.
Clouds of cherry blossoms!
The ringing of the bells floated ... From Ueno
Or Asakusa?
In a flower cup
A bumblebee is napping. Don't touch him
Sparrow friend!
Stork nest in the wind.
And under it - beyond the storm -
Cherries are a calm color.
Long day to fly
Sings - and does not get drunk
Lark in spring.
Over the expanse of fields -
Not tied to the ground
The lark calls.
May rains pour down.
What is this? Has the rim burst on the barrel?
The sound of an obscure night ...
Pure spring!
Up ran down my leg
Little crab.
It's been a clear day.
But where do the drops come from?
A patch of clouds in the sky.
As if taken in hand
Lightning when in the dark
You lit a candle. In praise of the poet Rick
How fast the moon flies!
On fixed branches
Drops of rain hung.
important steps
Heron on fresh stubble.
Autumn in the village.
Dropped for a moment
Threshing rice peasant,
Looks at the moon.
In a glass of wine
Swallows, don't drop
Clay lump.
There used to be a castle here...
Let me be the first to tell about it
A spring flowing in an old well.
How thick the grass is in summer!
And only one-leaf
One single sheet.
Oh no ready
I can't find a comparison for you
Three day month!
hanging motionless
Dark cloud in the sky...
It can be seen that lightning is waiting.
Oh, how many of them are in the fields!
But everyone blooms in their own way -
This is the highest feat of a flower!
Wrapped his life
around the suspension bridge
This wild ivy.
Blanket for one.
And icy black
Winter night... Oh, sadness! Poet Rika mourns his wife
Spring is leaving.
The birds are crying. The eyes of fish
Full of tears.
The distant call of the cuckoo
Sounded right. After all, these days
The poets have moved.
A thin tongue of fire, -
The oil in the lamp has frozen.
Wake up... What sadness! in a foreign land
West East -
Everywhere the same trouble
The wind is still cold. To a friend who went to the West
Even White flower on the fence
Near the house where the mistress was gone,
Cold covered me. Orphaned friend
Broke off a branch
Wind running through the pines?
How cool is the splash of water!
Here in drunkenness
To fall asleep on these river stones,
Overgrown with cloves...
Get up off the ground again
Fading in the mist, chrysanthemums,
Crushed by heavy rain.
Pray for happy days!
On winter tree plums
Be like your heart.
Visiting cherry blossoms
I have been neither more nor less -
Twenty happy days.
Under the shade of cherry blossoms
I'm like an old drama hero,
At night lay down to sleep.
Garden and mountain in the distance
Trembling, moving, entering
In a summer open house.
Driver! lead the horse
Over there, across the field!
There is a cuckoo singing.
May rains
The waterfall was buried -
Filled with water.
summer herbs
Where the heroes have disappeared
Like a dream. On the old battlefield
Islands... Islands...
And crushed into hundreds of fragments
Summer day sea.
What a blessing!
Cool green rice field...
The murmur of water...
Silence around.
Penetrate into the heart of the rocks
Voices of cicadas.
Gate of the Tide.
Washes the heron up to the chest
Cool sea.
Drying small perches
On the branches of a willow... What a coolness!
Fishing huts on the shore.
Wooden pestle.
Was he ever a willow
Was it a camellia?
Celebration of the meeting of two stars.
Even the night before is so different
For a normal night! On the eve of Tashibam holiday
Raging sea space!
Far away, to the island of Sado,
The Milky Way creeps.
With me under the same roof
Two girls... Hagi branches in bloom
And a lonely month At the hotel
What does ripe rice smell like?
I was walking through the field, and suddenly -
To the right is the Gulf of Ariso.
Tremble, oh hill!
Autumn wind in the field -
My lonely moan. In front of the grave mound of the early deceased poet Isse
Red-red sun
In the desert distance ... But it freezes
Ruthless autumn wind.
Pines... Nice name!
Leaning towards the pines in the wind
Bushes and autumn grasses. A place called Sosenki
Musashi Plain around.
None will touch the cloud
Your travel hat.
Wet, walking in the rain
But this traveler is also worthy of a song,
Not only hagi in bloom.
O merciless rock!
Under this glorious helmet
Now the cricket is ringing.
Whiter than white rocks
On the slopes of the stone mountain
This autumn whirlwind!
Farewell verses
On the fan I wanted to write -
It broke in his hands. Breaking up with a friend
Where are you, moon, now?
Like a sunken bell
Hidden at the bottom of the sea. In Tsuruga Bay, where the bell once sank
Butterfly never
He won't be... Shaking in vain
Worm in the autumn wind.
House in seclusion.
Moon ... Chrysanthemums ... In addition to them
A piece of a small field.
Cold rain without end.
This is how a chilled monkey looks,
As if asking for a straw cloak.
Winter night in the garden.
With a thin thread - and a month in the sky,
And cicadas barely audible ringing.
Nuns story
About the former service at the court ...
Deep snow all around. In a mountain village
Children, who is faster?
We'll catch up with the balls
Ice cereal. I play with children in the mountains
Tell me what for
Oh raven, to the bustling city
Are you flying from here?
How tender are the young leaves
Even here in the weeds
At the forgotten house.
Camellia petals...
Maybe the nightingale dropped
Flower hat?
Ivy leaves...
For some reason their smoky purple
He talks about the past.
Mossy gravestone.
Under it - is it in reality or in a dream? -
A voice whispers prayers.
Everything is spinning dragonfly ...
Can't get caught
For stalks of flexible grass.
Do not think with contempt:
"What small seeds!"
It's red pepper.
First left the grass...
Then he left the trees...
Lark flight.
The bell is silent in the distance,
But the scent of evening flowers
Its echo floats.
The cobwebs tremble a little.
Thin strands of saiko grass
They tremble in the twilight.
dropping petals,
Suddenly spilled a handful of water
Camellia flower.
The stream is slightly visible.
Float through the thicket of bamboo
Camellia petals.
May rain is endless.
Mallows are reaching somewhere
Looking for the path of the sun.
Weak orange flavor.
Where?.. When?.. In what fields, cuckoo,
Did I hear your flying cry?
Falling down with a leaf...
No, look! Halfway
The firefly fluttered.
And who could say
Why do they have such a short life!
The silent sound of cicadas.
Fisherman's hut.
Messed up in a pile of shrimp
Lone cricket.
White hair fell.
Under my headboard
The cricket does not stop.
Ill go down goose
On the field on a cold night.
Sleep lonely on the way.
Even a wild boar
Will swirl, take away with it
This winter whirlwind of the field!
It's the end of autumn
But believe in the future
Green tangerine.
Portable hearth.
So, the heart of wanderings, and for you
There is no rest anywhere. At the road hotel
The cold came along the way.
At the bird's scarecrow, or something,
In debt to ask for sleeves?
Seaweed stalks.
The sand creaked on my teeth...
And I remembered that I was getting old.
Manzai came late
To a mountain village.
The plums are already blooming.
Why all of a sudden such laziness?
They just woke me up today...
Noisy spring rain.
sad me
Drink more sadness
Cuckoos distant call!
I clapped my hands.
And where the echo sounded
The summer moon is blazing.
A friend sent me a gift
Risu, and I invited him
Visit the moon itself. On a full moon night
deep antiquity
A breeze ... Garden near the temple
Covered with dead leaves.
So easy-easy
Came out - and in the cloud
The moon thought.
Quail scream.
It must be evening.
The eye of the hawk faded.
Together with the owner of the house
I listen silently to the evening bells.
Willow leaves are falling.
White fungus in the forest.
Some unfamiliar leaf
Sticking to his hat.
What sadness!
Suspended in a small cage
Captive cricket.
Night silence.
Just behind the picture on the wall
The cricket is ringing.
Glittering dewdrops.
But they have a taste of sadness,
Don't forget!
That's right, this cicada
Is it all out of foam? -
One shell remained.
Fallen leaves.
The whole world is one color.
Only the wind hums.
Rocks among cryptomeria!
How to sharpen their teeth
Winter cold wind!
Planted trees in the garden.
Quiet, quiet, to encourage them,
Whispering autumn rain.
So that a cold whirlwind
To drink the aroma, they opened again
Late autumn flowers.
Everything was covered in snow.
Lonely old woman
In the forest hut.
Ugly raven -
And he's beautiful on the first snow
On a winter morning!
Like soot sweeps away
Cryptomerium tops treplet
A rising storm.
Fish and birds
I don't envy anymore... I'll forget
All the sorrows of the year Under the new year
Nightingales sing everywhere.
There - behind the bamboo grove,
Here - in front of the river willow.
From branch to branch
Quietly running drops ...
Spring rain.
Through the hedge
How many times have they fluttered
Butterfly wings!
Closed her mouth tightly
Sea shell.
Unbearable heat!
Only the breeze dies -
Willow branch to branch
The butterfly will flutter.
The winter hearth is getting along.
How old the familiar stove-maker has aged!
Whitened strands of hair.
Year after year, the same
Monkey amuses the crowd
In a monkey mask.
Didn't take my hands off
Like a spring breeze
Settled in a green sprout. planting rice
Rain follows rain
And the heart is no longer disturbed
Sprouts in the rice fields.
Stayed and left
Bright moon... Remained
Table with four corners. In memory of the poet Tojun
First fungus!
Still, autumn dews,
He didn't count you.
perched a boy
On the saddle, and the horse is waiting.
Collect radish.
The duck crouched down on the ground.
Covered with a dress of wings
Your bare feet...
Sweep the soot.
For myself this time
The carpenter gets along well. Before New Year
O spring rain!
Streams run from the roof
Along wasp nests.
Under an open umbrella
I make my way through the branches.
Willows in the first fluff.
From the sky of their peaks
Only river willows
Still pouring rain.
Hillock next to the road.
To replace the extinguished rainbow -
Azaleas in the sunset light.
Lightning at night in darkness.
Lakes expanse of water
Sparks flared up suddenly.
Waves run across the lake.
Some regret the heat
Sunset clouds.
The ground is slipping from under your feet.
I grab onto a light ear ...
The moment of parting has come. Saying goodbye to friends
My whole life is on the way!
Like I'm digging up a little field
I wander back and forth.
transparent waterfall...
Fell into the light
Pine needle.
Hanging in the sun
Cloud ... Randomly on it -
Migratory birds.
Buckwheat did not ripen
But they treat the field in flowers
A guest in a mountain village.
End of autumn days.
Already raising his hands
Shell chestnut.
What do people eat there?
House stuck to the ground
Under the autumn willows.
Chrysanthemum scent...
In the temples of ancient Nara
Dark buddha statues.
Autumn mist
Broke and drives away
Friends conversation.
Oh this long way!
The autumn dusk is falling,
And not a soul around.
Why am I so strong
Did you smell old age this fall?
Clouds and birds.
Late autumn.
I'm alone thinking
"And how does my neighbor live?"
On the way, I fell ill.
And everything is running, circling my dream
Through the scorched fields. death song
* * *
Poems from travel diaries
Maybe my bones
The wind will whiten - It is in the heart
I breathed cold. Going on the road
You are sad, listening to the cry of the monkeys!
Do you know how a child cries
Abandoned in the autumn wind?
Moonless night. Darkness.
With millennial cryptomeria
Grabbed into an embrace whirlwind.
The ivy leaf is quivering.
In a small bamboo grove
The first storm rumbles.
You stand indestructible, pine tree!
And how many monks have lived here,
How many bindweeds have faded... In the garden of the old monastery
Drops dewdrops - current-current -
Source, as in previous years ...
Wash away the worldly dirt! The source sung by the Saigyo
Twilight over the sea.
Only the cries of wild ducks in the distance
Blurred white.
Spring morning.
Over every nameless hill
Transparent haze.
I am walking along the mountain path.
Suddenly it became easy for me.
Violets in dense grass.
From the heart of a peony
The bee crawls slowly...
Oh, with what reluctance! Leaving a hospitable home
young horse
Chewing merrily ears of corn.
Rest on the way.
To the capital - there, far away -
Only half of the sky remains...
Snow clouds. On the mountain pass
Winter day sun
My shadow is freezing
On the horse's back.
She is only nine days old.
But they know both fields and mountains:
Spring has come again.
Cobwebs in the sky.
I see the image of the Buddha again
At the foot of the empty. Where the statue of Buddha once stood
Let's hit the road! I'll show you
Like cherry blossoms in distant Yoshino,
My old hat.
As soon as I got well,
Exhausted, until the night ...
And suddenly - wisteria flowers!
Soaring larks above
I sat down in the sky to rest -
On the crest of the pass.
Cherries at the waterfall...
For those who love good wine,
I'll take down the branch as a gift. Waterfall "Dragon Gate"
Like spring rain
Runs under a canopy of branches...
The spring softly whispers. Stream near the hut where Saigyo lived
Gone spring
In the distant harbor of Waka
I finally caught up.
On Buddha's birthday
He was born into the world
Little deer.
I saw before
In the rays of dawn the face of a fisherman,
And then - a blooming poppy.
Where it flies
The cry of the dawn cuckoo,
What's there? - A remote island.
Kiss a moment...
Merging worlds. swipe
Butterfly wings...
***
When I'm drunk
From crazy love -
The stars are shining...
***
Love is like wine
Heals the soul
I'll take a sip.
***
Life without you is rain
From the gray clouds of sorrow
My heart
***
Like flowers in spring
petals alive
Let's stretch out our hands...
***
See happiness...
Let's take it, without breathing, in our hands
Crystal goblet.
***
Became fate...
Is it not in our palms
Are we holding the sun?
***
Heart and love
Warm on the way
Give us hope.
***
Sword and rose...
I will become the Grail
Together with your beloved...
***
Your caresses...
Feel just a moment
Dissolve in it...
***
Next to you...
I will keep in memory
The warmth of your hands
***
I caress you...
I stroke my hair ... with my lips
I touch a little...
***
I drink my breath
Cling to the source. AND
I enjoy.
***
given to me
A moment of love suddenly lit up
The sky shine...
***
Sorry, only in a dream
I feel you...
Goodbye!
***
sakura petals
Stars fly and fall
Love is back...
***
Words are not needed
Heart beats and sings
The echo of the winds...
***
Feel free to part.
Do not trample on the ashes
Decayed feelings.
***
Love is a diamond.
Cutting costs years -
Time is not a pity.
***
flute bamboo voice
I hear from the distant forest
The wind fell in love, must be...
***
But your love
Flowing like a clear river
In my heart
***
See happiness...
Let's take it, without breathing, in our hands
Crystal goblet.
***
Next to you...
I will keep in memory
The warmth of your hands
***
given to me
A moment of love suddenly lit up
The sky shine...
***
Just three words
And how much bliss, pain
I love you.
***
sakura petals
Stars fly and fall
Love is back...
***
Words are not needed
Heart beats and sings
The echo of the winds...
***
Petals wither
flower of love without you.
Are crumbling.
***
The rose withered.
Disappointment.
Ashes of illusions.
***
rose petals
I'll fall in the way
Chosen by you...
***
I know the answer
But again at the chamomile
I ask for hope.
***
You dreamed me.
Ordinary weekday
Meet with a smile.
***
Boy with a girl.
She pulls her hair.
Offended...
***
loaded table,
The party is in full swing.
Longing for you.
***
Full of tenderness
And the essence and form of love
In the beloved body
***
Hot and humid
The scent of passion in the night
dizzy
***
Gorge of love
Maybe it has a bottom
But I didn't see
***
Sweet smile dawn
rainbow happiness,
What else does?!
Japanese three-line haiku for schoolchildren
Japanese three-line haiku
Japanese culture is often classified as a "closed" culture. The originality of Japanese aesthetics, the unusual charm of Japanese
customs and beauty of the monuments of Japanese art. One of the manifestations of the "mysterious Japanese soul" - haiku poetry - is introduced to us in her material by the lecturer-methodist Svetlana Viktorovna Samykina, Samara.
As soon as I got well,
Exhausted, until the night ...
And suddenly - wisteria flowers!
Basho
Just three lines. Few words. And the reader's imagination has already painted a picture: a tired traveler who has been on the road for many days. He is hungry, exhausted, and finally, lodging for the night! But our hero is in no hurry to enter, because suddenly, in an instant, he forgot about all the hardships in the world: he admires the flowers of wisteria.
Haiku, or haiku. How do you like. Homeland - Japan. Date of birth - Middle Ages. Once you open a haiku collection, you will forever remain a prisoner of Japanese poetry. What is the secret of this unusual genre?
From the heart of a peony
The bee slowly creeps out...
Oh, with what reluctance!
Basho
This is how sensitively the Japanese treats nature, reverently enjoys its beauty, absorbs it.
Perhaps the reason for this relationship should be sought in ancient religion Japanese people - Shintoism? Shinto preaches: be grateful to nature. She is ruthless and harsh, but more often - generous and affectionate. It was the Shinto faith that instilled in the Japanese sensitivity to nature, the ability to enjoy its endless changeability. Shinto was replaced by Buddhism, just as Christianity replaced paganism in Rus'. Shinto and Buddhism are a stark contrast. On the one hand, there is a sacred attitude to nature, veneration of ancestors, on the other hand, a complex oriental philosophy. Paradoxically, these two religions coexist peacefully in the Country rising sun. The modern Japanese will admire the cherry blossoms, cherries, autumn maples blazing with fire.
From human voices
Fearfully tremble in the evenings
Cherry beauties.
Issa
In Japan, flowers are very fond of, and they prefer simple, field flowers with their timid and discreet beauty. Near Japanese houses often plant a tiny vegetable garden or flower bed. An expert on this country, V. Ovchinnikov, writes that one must see the Japanese islands in order to understand why their inhabitants consider nature to be the measure of beauty.
Japan is a country of green mountains and sea bays, mosaic rice fields, gloomy volcanic lakes, picturesque pine trees on the rocks. Here you can see something unusual: bamboo, bowed under the weight of snow, is a symbol of the fact that north and south adjoin in Japan.
The Japanese subordinate the rhythm of their lives to events in nature. Family celebrations are timed to coincide with the cherry blossoms, the autumn full moon. Spring on the islands is not quite like our European one, with melting snow, ice drifts, floods. It starts with a wild burst of flowering. Pink sakura blossoms delight the Japanese not only with their abundance, but also with their fragility. The petals are so loosely held in the inflorescences that at the slightest breath of a breeze a pink waterfall flows to the ground. On such days, everyone rushes out of town, to the parks. Listen to how the lyrical hero punishes himself for breaking the branch of a flowering tree:
Throw a stone at me.
Plum blossom branch
I'm broken now.
Kikaku
The first snow is also a holiday.
In Japan, it doesn't happen often. But when he walks, it becomes very cold in the houses, since the houses of the Japanese are light gazebos. And yet the first snow is a holiday. The windows open and, sitting at the small braziers, the Japanese drinks sake, admires the snow flakes that fall on the paws of the pines, on the bushes in the garden.
First snow.
I would pour it on a tray
Everyone would look and look.
Kikaku
blazed autumn foliage maples - in Japan, a celebration of admiring the crimson foliage of maples.
Oh, maple leaves.
Wings you burn
Flying birds.
Siko
All haiku is conversion. To whom?
To the leaves. Why to maple leaves the poet addresses? He loves their bright colors: yellow, red - burning even the wings of birds. Imagine for a moment that a poetic invocation was addressed to oak leaves. Then a completely different image would have been born - an image of stamina, endurance, because the leaves of oaks cling tightly to the twigs until winter frosts.
In the classic three-line, some season should be reflected. Here Issa spoke about autumn:
Peasant in the field.
And showed me the way
Picked radish.
About the transience of a sad winter day, Issa will say:
open your beak,
The wren did not have time to sing.
The day is over.
And here you, no doubt, remember the hot summer:
flocked together
To the sleeping mosquitoes.
Dinner time.
Issa
Think about who's in for dinner. Of course, mosquitoes. The author is ironic.
Let's see what the structure of haiku is like. What are the laws of this genre? Its formula is simple: 5 7 5. What do these numbers mean? We can invite children to explore this problem, and they will certainly find that the numbers above indicate the number of syllables in each line. If we carefully look at the collection of haiku, we will notice that not all three-verse lines have such a clear construction (5 7 5). Why? The children themselves will answer this question. The fact is that we read Japanese haiku in translation. The translator must convey the author's idea and at the same time maintain a strict form. This is not always possible, and in this case he sacrifices form.
Facilities artistic expressiveness this genre is chosen sparingly: few epithets, metaphors. There is no rhyme, no strict rhythm is observed. How does the author manage to create an image in a few words, with stingy means. It turns out that the poet works a miracle: he awakens the imagination of the reader himself. The art of haiku is the ability to say a lot in a few lines. In a sense, each three-verse ends with an ellipsis. After reading a poem, you imagine a picture, an image, you experience it, you rethink, you think out, you create. That is why we are working for the first time in the second grade with the concept of "artistic image" on the material of Japanese three-verses.
Willow leaned over and sleeps.
And it seems to me, a nightingale on a branch -
This is her soul.
Basho
We discuss the poem.
Remember how we usually see willow?
This is a tree with silver-green leaves, bent by the water, by the road. All willow branches are sadly lowered down. No wonder in poetry willow is a symbol of sadness, sadness, longing. Remember the poem by L. Druskin “There is a willow ...” (see the textbook by V. Sviridova “Literary reading”, grade 1) or Basho:
All the worries, all the sadness
Of my troubled heart
Give it to the flexible willow.
Sadness, longing is not your way, the poet tells us, give this load to the willow, because it is all the personification of sadness.
What can you say about the nightingale?
This bird is inconspicuous, gray, but how it sings!
Why is the nightingale the soul of the sad willow?
Apparently, we have learned about the thoughts, about the dreams, about the hopes of the tree from the song of the nightingale. He told us about her soul, mysterious and beautiful.
Do you think the nightingale sings or is silent?
This question (as is often the case in a literature lesson) can have several correct answers, because everyone has their own image. Some will say that the nightingale, of course, sings, otherwise how would we know about the soul of the willow? Others will think that the nightingale is silent, because it is night, and everything in the world is sleeping. Each reader will see his picture, create his own image.
Japanese art is eloquent in the language of innuendo. Understatement, or yugen, is one of his principles. Beauty is in the depths of things. Be able to notice it, and for this you need a delicate taste. The Japanese don't like symmetry. If the vase on the table is in the middle, it will automatically move to the edge of the table. Why? Symmetry as completeness, as completeness, as repetition, is uninteresting. So, for example, the dishes on the Japanese table (service) will be sure to different pattern, different color.
Often, ellipsis appears in the haiku finale. This is not an accident, but a tradition, a principle of Japanese art. For a resident of the Land of the Rising Sun, the thought is important and close: the world is forever changing, therefore there can be no completeness in art, there can be no peak - a point of balance and peace. The Japanese even have catchphrase: "The empty spaces on the scroll are filled with more meaning than the brush traced on it."
The highest manifestation of the concept of "yugen" is a philosophical garden. It is a poem of stone and sand. American tourists see it as a "tennis court" - a rectangle covered with white gravel, where stones are scattered in disorder. What does the Japanese think about, peering into these stones? V. Ovchinnikov writes that words cannot convey the philosophical meaning of the rock garden, for the Japanese it is an expression of the world in its endless variability.
But back to literature. The great genre raised to an unsurpassed height Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. Every Japanese knows his poems by heart.
Basho was born into a poor samurai family in the province of Iga, which is called the cradle of old Japanese culture. It's extraordinary Beautiful places. The poet's relatives were educated people, and Basho himself began to write poetry as a child. Unusual it life path. He took tonsure, but did not become a real monk. Basho settled in little house near the city of Edo. This hut is sung in his poems.
IN A THAT-COVERED HUT
Like a banana moaning in the wind,
How drops fall into a tub,
I hear all night long.
In 1682, a misfortune happened - Basho's hut burned down. And he began a long journey through Japan. His fame grew, and many disciples appeared throughout Japan. Basho was a wise teacher, he did not just pass on the secrets of his skill, he encouraged those who were looking for their own path. The true style of haiku was born in controversy. These were disputes of people truly dedicated to their work. Bonte, Kerai, Ransetsu, Shiko are the students of the famous master. Each of them had his own handwriting, sometimes very different from the handwriting of the teacher.
Basho walked the roads of Japan bringing poetry to the people. In his poems - peasants, fishermen, tea pickers, the whole life of Japan with its bazaars, taverns on the roads ...
Dropped for a moment
Threshing rice peasant,
Looks at the moon.
During one of his travels, Basho died. Before his death, he created the "Dying Song":
On the way I got sick
And everything is running, circling my dream
Through scorched meadows.
Another famous name is Kobayashi Issa. Often his voice is sad:
Our life is a dewdrop.
Let only a drop of dew
Our life is still...
This poem was written on the death of his little daughter. Buddhism teaches not to worry about the departure of loved ones, because life is a dewdrop ... But listen to the poet's voice, how much inescapable grief there is in this "and yet ..."
Issa wrote not only on high philosophical topics. Own life, fate was reflected in the work of the poet. Issa was born in 1763 in peasant family. The father dreamed of his son becoming a successful merchant. To do this, he sends him to study in the city. But Issa became a poet and, like his brothers in the poetic guild, he walked around the villages, earning a living by composing haiku. Issa got married at the age of 50. Beloved wife, 5 children. Happiness was fleeting. Issa loses all loved ones.
Maybe that's why he is sad even in the sunny time of flowering:
Sad world!
Even when the cherry blossoms...
Even then…
That's right, in a former life
You were my sister
Sad cuckoo…
He marries two more times, and the only child who continued his family will be born after the death of the poet in 1827.
Issa found his way in poetry. If Basho cognized the world, penetrating into its innermost depths, looking for connections between individual phenomena, then Issa in his poems sought to accurately and fully capture the reality surrounding him and his own feelings.
Spring again.
New stupidity is coming
Replace the old one.
cool wind,
Crouched to the ground, contrived
Get me too.
Shh... just for a moment
Shut up, meadow crickets.
It's starting to rain.
Issa makes the subject of poetry everything that his predecessors diligently avoided mentioning in poetry. He connects the low and the high, arguing that every little thing, every creature in this world should be valued on an equal footing with a person.
Light pearl
The new year shone for this
Little louse.
Roofer.
Ass wraps around him
Spring wind.
Interest in the work of Issa in Japan is great today. The hockey genre itself is alive and dearly loved. Until now, in mid-January, a traditional poetry competition is held. Tens of thousands of poems on a given topic enter this competition. Such a championship has been held annually since the fourteenth century.
Our compatriots on Internet sites create their own, Russian haiku. Sometimes these are absolutely amazing images, for example, of autumn:
New autumn
Opened the season
Toccata of rain.
And gray rain
Long fingers weave
Long autumn...
And "Russian" haiku make the reader think, build an image, listen to the ellipsis. Sometimes these are mischievous, ironic lines. When the Russian team lost the football championship, this haiku appeared on the Internet:
Even in football
You have to be able to do something.
Too bad we didn't know...
There are also "ladies'" haiku:
There's nowhere to go
Shorten skirt:
The legs are gone.
Forgot who I am.
We haven't fought in such a long time.
Remind me, honey.
And here are the more serious ones:
I'll hide it securely
Pain and resentment.
I flash a smile.
Do not say anything.
Just stay with me.
Just love.
Sometimes "Russian" haiku echo well-known plots and motifs:
The barn is not on fire.
Quietly the horse sleeps in the stable.
What is a grandmother to do?
Of course, you caught the roll call with Nekrasov.
Tanya-chan lost her face
Crying about the ball rolling into the pond.
Get a grip, daughter of the samurai.
Eneke and Beneke ate sushi.
Whatever the child amuses, if only
Didn't drink sake.
And haiku lines are always the way to the reader’s own creativity, that is, to yours personally. internal decision the topic you have been given. The poem ends, and here the poetic comprehension of the theme begins.
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This article is part of a group of manuals from the cycle “Thematic planning for textbooks by V.Yu. Sviridova and N.A. Churakova "Literary reading" grades 1-4.
