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170 haiku out of 9486

year unknown

.雨だれは月よなりけりかへる雁
amadare wa tsuki yo nari keri kaeru kari

the bright moon in raindrops
from the eaves...
the geese depart

An amadare is an eavesdrop, where water falls from a roof's overhang. Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

year unknown

.けふ迄のしんぼ強さよ帰る雁
kyô made no shimbo tsuyosa yo kaeru kari

up to today
such perserverance and strength!
returning geese

This haiku is a revision of one written in 1817, in which the geese (or goose) shows "great perserverance" (yô shinbo shita) and appears at Issa's gate. The poet admires the disciplined, hard-traveling geese.

year unknown

.けふ迄はよく辛抱した雁よ雁よ
kyô made wa yoku shimbo shita kari yo kari yo

up to today
such great perserverance...
wild geese! wild geese!

This haiku is a revision of one written in 1817, in which the geese (or goose) appears at Issa's gate. The poet admires the disciplined, hard-traveling geese.

year unknown

.雁鳴や今日本を放るると
kari naku ya ima nippon wo hanaruru to

geese honking--
now they leave behind
Japan

This haiku has the prescript, "Off to foreign shores."

year unknown

.みちのくの田植見てから帰る雁
michi no ku no taue mite kara kaeru kari

after seeing rice planting
in remote provinces...
the geese depart

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

year unknown

.蛤や在鎌倉の雁鴎
hamaguri ya zai-kamakura no kari kamome

O clams
meet the geese and gulls
of Greater Kamakura!

The scene is on the outskirts (zai) of Kamakura; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 669. The word "meet" doesn't appear in Issa's orginal text, but this seems to be his implication. The hungry wild geese and sea gulls are feasting on the clams.

year unknown

.雁おりて畠も名所のひとつ哉
kari orite hata mo meisho no hitotsu kana

geese landing--
the farmer's field too
a famous resort

This is an early haiku written in the 1790s. The common field, for the geese, is a "famous resort" (meisho).

year unknown

.天津雁おれが松にはおりぬ也
amatsu kari ore ga matsu ni wa orinu nari

celestial geese--
none of them come down
to my pine

Shinji Ogawa notes that the nu in orinu, in this case, signifies a negation: the geese don't land.

year unknown

.門の雁袖引雨がけふも降
kado no kari sode hiku ame ga kyô mo furu

geese at my gate--
another seductive rain
falls today

The expression, sode hiku, literally denotes dragging one by the sleeve; metaphorically, it refers to seduction. The migrating geese enjoy the rain enough to linger another day.

year unknown

.雁おりよ昔の芦の名所也
kari ori yo mukashi no ashi no meisho nari

geese descend--
the ancient rushes
a famous resort


year unknown

.雁鳴やあはれ今年も片月見
kari naku ya aware kotoshi mo kata tsuki mi

geese honking--
this damned year, too
moon gazing interrupted

This haiku has the prescript, "On a journey."

Shinji Ogawa explains that "one moon viewing" (kata tsuki mi) means "incomplete moon viewing," since true moon viewing should be done twice: on the fifteenth day of Eighth Month (around the middle of September, modern calendar) and the thirteenth day of Ninth Month (about the second week of October, modern calendar). He adds, "According to some theories, the two moon-viewings must be done in the same garden. Being on the journey so often, Issa was not able to enjoy a complete moon-viewing."

year unknown

.さわぐ雁そこらもとしが暮るかよ
sawagu kari sokora mo toshi ga kururu ka yo

clamoring geese--
over there is the year
ending too?

In the original version of this haiku, dated 1813, the middle phrase is different: toshi wa soko kara, but the meaning is the same.

1788

.出代りや蛙も雁も鳴別れ
degawari ya kawazu mo kari mo naki wakare

migrating servants--
even frogs and geese
cry when they part!

In springtime, old servants were replaced by young ones. The old ones would leave their employers to return to their home villages; the young ones traveled in the opposite direction. In earlier times this took place during the Second Month; later, the Third Month.

1802

.夕暮の松見に来しをかへる雁
yûgure no matsu mi ni koshi wo kaeru kari

stopping to watch
the evening pines...
geese flying north

Or: "evening pine." Issa fancies that the geese have poetic souls, like him.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1802

.段々に雁なくなるや小田の月
dan-dan ni kari nakunaru ya oda no tsuki

gradually the geese
pass on...
rice field moon


1803

.雨だれの有明月やかへる雁
amadare no ariake tsuki ya kaeru kari

the dawn moon in raindrops
from the eaves...
the geese depart

An amadare is an eavesdrop, where water falls from a roof's overhang. Shinji Ogawa notes that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1803

.行灯で飯くふ人やかへる雁
andon de meshi kuu hito ya kaeru kari

eating my rice
by lamplight...
the geese depart

Or: "eating his rice."

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1803

.一度見度さらしな山や帰る雁
ichido mitaki sarashina yama ya kaeru kari

all eager to see
Mount Sarashina...
departing geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands). Mount Sarashina is another name for Ubasute or Obasute: a mountain in Issa's home province of Shinano (today's Nagano Prefecture) where old people were, according to legend, "thrown away": left to die. Today it is called Kamurikiyama.

1803

.小田の雁一つとなりて春いく日
oda [no] kari hito[tsu] to narite haru iku hi

the rice field geese
all head north...
a lucky spring day

Iku hi is an old expression for a lucky day upon which Shinto festivals were held; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 107. As Shinji Ogawa notes, Issa is punning with it, since it also means "a going day" or "day of departure," which is connected to the geese. He paraphrases, "the geese in the rice field/ are going to the northern country as a flock/ a lucky spring day!"

1803

.かへる雁駅の行灯かすむ也
kaeru kari umaya no ando kasumu nari

geese flying north--
the stage barn's lamplight
in mist

Umaya refers to a barn or stable for horses at a stage station. The geese will not stop at the station for a rest.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

According to the editors of Issa's collected works, the word, andon ("lamp"), should be read, ando, thus preserving a middle phrase of seven on ("sound units"): u-ma-ya-no-a-n-do; Issa zenshû (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shimbunsha, 1976-79) 1.150.

1803

.帰る雁何を咄して行やらん
kaeru kari nani wo hanashite yukuyaran

departing geese
what are you
gabbing about?

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1803

.帰る雁北陸道へかへる也
kaeru kari hokurokudô e kaeru nari

departing geese
over Hokuroku Road
departing

Hokurokudô was one of the seven great roads of Old Japan, running north from the capital, Kyoto. Here, the geese seem to be following it like everyone else. See Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1483.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1803

.門口の行灯かすみてかへる雁
kado-guchi no andon kasumite kaeru kari

the gateway's lamp
in mist...
the geese depart

I assume that kasumite is the gerund form of kasumu (to mist); in modern Japanese it would be kasunde. Issa uses both forms in his poetry.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1803

.草の雨松の月よやかへる雁
kusa no ame matsu no tsuki yo ya kaeru kari

rain-drenched grass
moon in the pine...
the geese depart

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1803

.小烏にあなどられたり小田の雁
ko karasu ni anadoraretari oda no kari

the little crow
is snubbed...
rice field geese

This haiku has the prescript, ("Teito," a chapter of the Chinese classic, Shi Jing, an anthology of ancient songs and poems. See Issa zenshû (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shimbunsha, 1976-79), 2.124, note 2.

1803

.殺されにことしも来たよ小田の雁
korosare ni kotoshi mo kita yo oda no kari

another year
they're back for the massacre...
rice field geese

Jean Cholley notes that the daimyo and other high personages held great hunts for the migrating geese, often decimating them; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 235, note 18.

1803

.殺されに南へ行か天つ雁
korosare ni minami e yuku ka amatsu kari

flying south
for the slaughter?
celestial geese

Amatsu kari ("celestial geese") is a season word for geese migrating in autumn. Jean Cholley notes that the daimyo and other high personages held great hunts for the migrating geese, often decimating them; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 235, note 18.

1803

.一群は今来た顔や小田の雁
hito mure wa ima kita kao ya oda [no] kari

a new face
in the flock...
rice field geese


1804

.朝雨を祝ふてかへれ小田の雁
asa ame wo iwaute kaere oda no kari

celebrate the morning rain
then off you go!
rice field geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaere in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave" (command). Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands). However, before they depart, Issa recommends that they celebrate the morning rain--as he does, in the haiku.

1804

.跡立は雨に逢ひけりかへる雁
atodachi wa ame ni ai keri kaeru kari

the last in line
hits the rain...
departing geese

Atodachi is an old word referring to the last one in a procession, parade, or queue; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 47.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1804

.かへる雁翌はいづくの月や見る
kaeru kari asu wa izuku no tsuki ya miru

departing geese
where will you moon-gaze
tomorrow?

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1804

.田の雁のかへるつもりか帰らぬか
ta no kari no kaeru tsumori ka kaeranu ka

are the rice field's geese
planning to fly north?
planning not to?

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1804

.はげ山も見知ておけよかへる雁
hage yama mo mishirite oke yo kaeru kari

the bald mountain, too
memorize by sight!
geese flying north

Hageyama literally means, "bald mountain." French translator Jean Cholley chooses to visualize several bald mountains in the scene; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 53.

1804

.行雁に呑せてやらん京の水
yuku kari ni nomasete yaran kyô no mizu

geese taking off
have a drink on me...
Kyoto's water

Kyoto was Japan's capital in Issa's time. Shinji Ogawa paraphrases: "I'll give the flying-north geese a drink of Kyoto's water."

1804

.行雁やきのふは見へぬ小田の水
yuku kari ya kinou wa mienu oda no mizu

traveling geese--
those rice fields weren't flooded
yesterday

Shinji Ogawa paraphrases: "Geese are flying north. I didn稚 see the water in rice fields yesterday." Japanese rice fields are dry until planting time. Issa is suggesting that today the fields are being flooded so that rice can be planted. Though Shinji sees the seeing as Issa's action ("I didn't see the water"), I think it might be possible that the poet is imaginging the aerial perspective of the geese, as they look down at the land and comment on its changes.

1804

.行な雁廿日も居れば是古郷
yuku na kari hatsuka [mo] ireba kore kokyô

don't go geese!
after twenty days
this is your home

Shinji Ogawa corrected my way-off-the-mark translation of this haiku by providing this paraphrase: "don't leave geese!/ having stayed for more than twenty days/ it's your hometown now."

1805

.菜の花がはなれにくいか小田の雁
na no hana ga hanare nikui ka oda [no] kari

is it hard leaving behind
the rape blossoms?
rice field geese

Shinji Ogawa paraphrases, "Geese in the rice field, it's time for you to leave Japan. Are you hesitating? Is it hard for you to leave rape-blossoming Japan behind?"

1805

.雁鳴や旅寝の空の目にうかぶ
kari naku ya tabine no sora no me ni ukabu

honking geese--
I picture skies
over inns

French translator Jean Cholley helped me understand Issa's meaning. Literally, the honking geese cause a vision of "the sky of inns" (tabine no sora) to float into the poet's eyes. In other words, the traveling geese make Issa imagine and, perhaps, yearn for his own traveling: to look up each night and see starry skies over the inns where is staying. See En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 65.

1805

.けふ翌の秋となりけり小田の雁
kyô asu no aki to nari keri oda [no] kari

just today and tomorrow
left of autumn!
rice field geese

Shinji Ogawa explains, "The phrase kyo asu no aki means 'autumn remains only for a few days'."

1806

.行雁や更科見度望みさへ
yuku kari ya sarashina mitai nozomi sae

geese flying north--
how they yearn to see
Mount Sarashina

Mount Sarashina is another name for Ubasute or Obasute: a mountain in Issa's home province of Shinano (today's Nagano Prefecture) where old people were, according to legend, "thrown away": left to die. Today it is called Kamurikiyama.

1806

.見知られし雁もそろそろ立田哉
mishirareshi kari mo soro-soro tatsu ta kana

the geese I know
by sight, are they gone?
rice field of Nara

Tatsu ta refers to a place in Nara Prefecture, located north of the river; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1007.

Shinji Ogawa notes that Issa is punning in this haiku: "The word tatsu means 'to stand up' and 'to depart.' Tatsu ta (Tatsuta) is the name of the place in Nara Prefecture and also means 'departed.' The word soro-soro means, in this context, 'by now.' Hence, the haiku says, 'Have the geese we are acquainted with departed by now?'"

1806

.小田の雁年寄声はなかりけり
oda [no] kari toshiyori-goe wa nakari keri

rice field geese--
not a single voice
sounds old


1806

.おちつくと直に鳴けり小田の雁
ochitsuku to sugu ni naki keri oda [no] kari

once they settle down
another clamor...
rice field geese


1806

.風吹てそれから雁の鳴にけり
kaze fuite sore kara kari no naki ni keri

wind is blowing
and so the geese
are honking


1806

.雁鳴て直に夜に入る小家哉
kari naite sugu ni yo ni iru ko ie kana

geese honking
hasten the evening...
little house


1806

.夕風やふり向度に雁の鳴
yûkaze ya furimuku tabi ni kari no naku

evening wind--
the geese turn around
honking


1806

.冬篭雁は夜迄かせぐ也
fuyugomori kari wa yoru made kasegu nari

winter seclusion--
the wild geese labor
till evening


1807

.雁行って人に荒行草葉哉
kari itte hito ni areyuku kusaba kana

geese have gone--
the field's grass chafing
people

The last phrase of this haiku, kusaba kana, literally reads, "leaves of grass."

Shinji Ogawa notes, "The haiku depicts a natural progression of the season; the weeds grow thicker. However, Issa's subtle humor is, I think, to let the readers think: 'Does the absence of geese make the grasses behave rough?'"

1807

.藪蕎麦のとくとく匂へかへる雁
yabu soba no toku-toku nioe kaeru kari

smell the buckwheat
in the thicket!
departing geese

In Issa's time toku-toku could signify the falling motion of drops of water or tears--or it could mean "in a rush." This means that the fragrance of the buckwheat is either (1) trickling out of the thicket or (2) rushing out of the thicket; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1160.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1807

.行雁がつくづく見るや煤畳
yuku kari ga tsuku-zuku miru ya susu tatami

the traveling geese
check it out thoroughly...
sooty mat

The mat is a tatami mat made of woven straw. The fact that it is sooty implies that it belongs to "beggar" Issa.

1807

.行雁や人の心もうはの空
yuku kari ya hito no kokoro mo uwa no sora

traveling geese--
the human heart, too
soars

Though I am happy with my translation, I realize that there are levels of meaning in the original Japanese that aren't getting across. First, there's the problem of kokoro, which can be rendered "heart" or "mind." In this case I chose "heart," but I could have said, "the human mind, too/ soars"--conveying a completely different meaning in English. Second, the expression uwa no sora (upper sky) is part of a Japanese idiom for absent-mindedness. Figuratively speaking, Issa could be saying something like:

traveling geese--
the human mind, too
drifts

1807

.鍬の罰思ひつく夜や雁の鳴
kuwa no batsu omoitsuku yo ya kari no naku

the hoe's a curse
I'm thinking tonight...
wild geese calling

This haiku has the prescript, "He doesn't work but still eats, doesn't weave but still is clothed, dreading the future." According to Jean Cholley, this self-portrait and haiku were inspired by a visit to Issa's home village on the seventh anniversary of his father's death. Though he would eventually return to the family farm, at this early point the hoe seemed a curse to the wandering poet. The road called; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 237.

1807

.窓の蓋おろしすまして雁の鳴
mado no futa oroshi sumashite kari no naku

pulling shut
the window covers...
geese honking


1808

.雁にさへとり残されし栖哉
kari ni sae tori-nokosareshi sumika kana

even the wild geese
leave it alone...
my home

Another of many haiku in which Issa mocks his pitiful-looking house. The geese fly over it, refusing to land.

1808

.雁よりも先へ場とりし烏哉
kari yori mo saki e ba torishi karasu kana

before the geese
can take their seats...
crows

This haiku is perhaps a spoof on human rudeness. Before the geese take their seats, the crows claim them. Shinji Ogawa assisted with this translation.

1808

.はつ雁や貧乏村を一番に
hatsu kari ya bimbô mura wo ichiban ni

autumn's first geese
come first
to the poor town


1809

.我笠ぞ雁は逃るな初霞
waga kasa zo kari wa nigeru na hatsu-gasumi

it's my umbrella-hat
don't run, geese!
first mist

It is the first mist of spring.

1809

.雁立った跡を見に行小松哉
kari tatta ato wo mi ni yuku ko matsu kana

seeing off
the departing geese...
little pines

Or: "the little pine."

1809

.大切の廿五日やかへる雁
taisetsu no nijûgo nichi ya kaeru kari

an auspicious
twenty fifth day...
the geese depart

This haiku was written on the tenth day of First Month, 1809. The twenty-fifth day, however, makes for a nice seven-sound unit line in Japanese (ni jû go nichi ya). See Issa zenshû (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shimbunsha, 1976-79) 2.522. Shinji Ogawa believes that Issa may be referring to the memorial day of Hônen, the founder of Jôdoshû (Pure Land Buddhism), who died on January 25th, 1212.

Shinji adds that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1809

.行雁や我湖をすぐ通り
yuku kari ya waga mizuumi wo sugu tôri

traveling geese
my lake is crossed
in no time


1810

.雁起よ雪がとけるぞとけるぞよ
kari oki yo yuki ga tokeru zo tokeru zoyo

the geese awake
"snow is melting!
melting!"


1810

.いざさらばさらばと雁のきげん哉
iza saraba saraba to kari no kigen kana

in a mood for farewell
farewell!
the wild geese


1810

.帰る雁我をかひなき物とやは
kae[ru] kari ware wo kainaki mono to yo wa

to the returning geese
I'm just a useless
so-and-so

Issa imagines that the hard-traveling geese look down at his lazy lifestyle with disdain. To them he is kainaki: in vain, without success, not worthwhile.

1810

.雁行な今錠明る藪の家
kari yuku na ima jô akeru yabu no ie

don't go, geese!
now I'm unlocking
the house in the trees

In my first translation I wrote that the house is "unlocked today," but Shinji Ogawa notes that Issa is describing an action in process.

1810

.念仏をさづけてやらん帰る雁
nembutsu wo sazukete yaran kae[ru] kari

teaching how to
praise Buddha...
the geese depart

The nembutsu prayer is "Namu Amida Butsu": "All praise to Amida Buddha!" Issa observes that the honking geese are teaching this all-important Pure Land Buddhist chant, demonstrating the unthinking naturalness of his ideal of piety.

The verb sazukeru can mean "to teach" or "to confer" (as in conferring a favor). I believe that Issa is using it in the sense of teaching, but it is possible that he is conferring a prayer for the benefit of the geese; this is Jean Cholley's interpretation; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 87.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1810

.暮行や雁とけぶりと膝がしら
kure yuku ya kari to keburi to hizagashira

evening falls--
wild geese, smoke
and my bended knees

Hizagashira literally means "kneecap" or "bend of the knee." Jean Cholley pictures a posture in which Issa's knees are in his hands: "genoux dans mes mains"; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 91.

I picture a scene of sublime contentment, but Shinji Ogawa, thinking of Issa's biography, has a different picture: "The scene is very lonesome. The 48-year-old man, who cannot afford to have a wife, has to deal with no one but his own kneecaps when it's getting dark outside. The year is one of the most difficult years in Issa痴 life (1810). Yet most of his haiku, even in this period, indeed show contentment. Even in this lonesome haiku, Issa avoids to use any adjective. To me it is more the reason to feel his loneliness and sadness."

1810

.出る月に門田の雁の行儀哉
deru tsuki ni kado ta no kari no gyôgi kana

the moon's out!
in the gate's rice field
polite geese

Shinji Ogawa notes that gyôgi kana can be read as "polite behavior."

1811

.三月や三十日になりて帰る雁
sangetsu ya misoka ni narite kae[ru] kari

Third Month--
come the 30th day
the geese depart

The humor of this haiku lies in two facts: (1) the Third Month is the last month of spring in the old lunar calendar, and (2) "returning geese" is a spring season word. The geese have started north at the last possible moment: the day before summer.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1811

.雁鴨のづうづうしさよ門柳
kari kamo no zûzûshisa yo kado yanagi

the geese and ducks
are brazen...
willow at the gate


1811

.植る田やけふもはらはら帰る雁
ueru ta ya kyô mo hara-hara kaeru kari

rice planting--
today too, traveling geese
flutter down

The geese are flying north.

1811

.門の雁いくら鳴ても米はなき
kado no kari ikura naite mo kome wa naki

geese at my gate
cry all you like...
no rice


1811

.田の雁や里の人数はけふもへる
ta no kari ya sato no ninzu wa kyô moeru

rice field geese--
the village's population
surges

Jean Cholley relates this haiku to the fact that many villagers in Issa's province of Shinano left in the cold autumn to seek work in Edo (today's Tokyo); En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 238, note 52.

1811

.はつ雁が人にはこして通りけり
hatsu kari ga hito ni hako shite tôri keri

autumn's first geese
crapping on people
fly on


1811

.はつ雁やあてにして来る庵の畠
hatsu kari ya ate ni shite kuru io no hata

autumn's first geese
hitting the mark...
field by my hut


1811

.はつ雁やすすきはまねく人は追ふ
hatsu kari ya susuki wa maneku hito wa ou

autumn's first geese--
pampas grass beckons
people chase

The migrating geese of autumn face a mixed reception.

1811

.髭どのがおじゃるぞだまれ小田の雁
hige dono ga ojaru zo damare oda [no] kari

Mr. Long-Beard's coming
hush up!
rice field geese

Is "Mr. Long-Beard" a hunter?

Ojaru is an old word meaning "to come"; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 269.

1811

.雁鴨よなけなけとしが留るなら
kari kamo yo nake-nake toshi ga tomaru nara

geese and ducks
sing! sing!
stop the year from ending

In my first translation, I ended with "the year runs out." Shinji Ogawa explains that Issa's image is more fanciful. He tells the geese and ducks to cry "if your cry can make the year stay."

1811

.塚の霜雁も参て啼にけり
tsuka no shimo kari mo mairite naki ni keri

frost on the graves--
the pilgrim geese above
honking

Left out of my translation is the word "also" (mo). The geese are pilgrims also, implying that someone else is in the scene: the human visitors to the graves.

1812

.青柳も見ざめのしてや帰る雁
ao yagi mo mizame [no] shite ya kaeru kari

the green willow too
tires of watching...
departing geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1812

.帰る雁人はなかなか未練也
kae[ru] kari hito wa naka-naka miren nari

departing geese--
human beings miss them
terribly

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands). Shinji adds that miren in this haiku signifies "irresolute to forget," in other words, the people are missing the geese.

1812

.雁行や跡は本間の角田川
kari yuku ya ato wa honma no sumida-gawa

after the geese depart
back to normal...
Sumida River

Shinji Ogawa explains that honma in this haiku is synonymous with hontô ("true," "real"). Here, it signifies that the river has returned to its original state.

1812

.雁鴨よ是世の中は更衣
kari kamo yo kono yo [no] naka wa koromogae

for the geese and ducks
of this world...
new summer robes

Issa views the summer plumage of geese and ducks in human terms.

1812

.雁鴨が足を拭也かきつばた
kari kamo ga ashi wo fuku nari kakitsubata

geese and ducks
wipe their feet...
on the irises

Karel Sloane writes, "It conjures an immediate image; so visceral; I can just see the geese and ducks, just exited the pond, using the irises as their personal bath mats."

Sakuo Nakamura's imagination takes a different turn. For him, the geese and ducks are seasonal workers who have come from the countryside to Edo (today's Tokyo). Some of them return to their home villages every spring, but others stay in Edo for long periods. They wear grass sandals and their feet become dirty with mud. Therefore, if they want to enter some house, they should wipe their feet. At the house that they want to enter, the "irises" are beautiful women. He adds, "I think the house is a Joy House for men," located in the licensed brothel district of Yoshiwara.

1812

.麦秋やしはがれ声の小田の雁
mugi aki ya shiwagare-goe no oda no kari

ripened barley--
the rice paddy geese
with hoarse voices

Mugi is a generic term that refers to several grains: wheat, barley, oats, and rye. Shinji Ogawa explains that the phrase "barley's autumn" (mugi no aki) refers, in fact, to the summer season. The name derives from the fact that ripened barley "is comparable to the sight of a rice field in autumn."

1812

.庵の夜や竹には雀芦に雁
io no yo ya take ni suzume ashi ni kari

hut's evening
sparrows in the bamboo
geese in the rushes


1812

.うしろから雁の夕と成にけり
ushiro kara kari no yûbe to nari ni keri

behind me--
it's become a night
of wild geese!


1812

.小田の雁我通てもねめつける
oda no kari ware tôtte mo nemetsukeru

rice field geese
glare at me
as I pass


1812

.かしましや将軍さまの雁じゃとて
kashimashi ya shôgun sama no kari ja tote

what an uproar--
those wild geese
are the Shogun's!

According to a prescript accompanying this first haiku of Ninth Month, 1812; it was written in one of the neighborhoods of Edo, today's Tokyo: the Shogun's city.

Jean Cholley believes that the uproar is caused by the Shogun's brutal guards, driving away common people so that their master and his retinue can hunt the geese; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 239, note 59.

Perhaps the geese are the noisemakers in the haiku. Their self-important clamor, in Issa's opinion, derives from the fact that they are creatures that belong, by hunting rights, to the Shogun.

1812

.雁鳴や霧の浅間へ火を焚と
kari naku ya kiri no asama e hi wo taku to

geese honking--
into Mount Asama's mist
a fire

Mount Asama is a volcano in Issa's home province of Shinano, active during the poet's lifetime. The eruption of 1783, when Issa was twenty-one years old and living in Edo (today's Tokyo), killed 1,151 people.

1812

.雁わやわやおれが噂を致す哉
kari waya-waya ore ga uwasa wo itasu kana

the wild geese
honking! honking!
about me

The expression waya-waya denotes a boistrous, noisy, clamorous sound; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1769. Shinji Ogawa paraphrases: "quack, quack!/ the geese must be/ talking about me."

1812

.けふからは日本の雁ぞ楽に寝よ
kyô kara wa nihon no kari zo raku ni ne yo

from today on
you are Japanese geese...
rest in peace


1812

.死迄もだまり返って小田の雁
shinu made mo damari kaete oda no kari

settling back
to dead silence...
rice field geese

Although Shinji Ogawa comments, "The phrase, shinu made mo damari kaete means 'dead silence sets in' or 'dead silence prevailed [with] no meaning of 'return'"...I believe that the silence is deep and death-like to the degree that it contrasts to the wild, honking clamor that preceded it: the geese are "returning" or "settling back" to a profound silence.

1812

.初雁に旅の寝やうをおそはらん
hatsu kari ni tabi no ne yô wo osowaran

autumn's first geese--
from you I could learn
where to sleep

Migrating geese are seasoned travelers. Issa fancies that they could teach him which inns are the best for his own long journies.

In the same year, he revises this haiku:

hatsu kari yo nanji ni tabi wo osowaran

autumn's first geese--
from you I could learn
about travels!

1812

.はつ雁よ汝に旅をおそはらん
hatsu kari yo nanji ni tabi wo osowaran

autumn's first geese--
from you I could learn
about travels!


1812

.湖へおりぬは雁の趣向哉
mizuumi e orinu wa kari no shukô kana

not landing
on the lake...
the geese's plan


1812

.夕月に尻つんむけて小田の雁
yûzuki ni shiri tsunmukete oda no kari

aiming their butts
at the evening moon...
rice field geese

As their heads dip into the water, their butts salute the evening moon.

1812

.しぐるるや闇の図星を雁のなく
shigururu ya yami no zuboshi wo kari no naku

in winter rain
toward the heart of darkness...
honking geese

Literally, the geese are aiming at the "bull's eye of darkness" (yami no zuboshi).

1813

.かすむ日や目を縫たる雁が鳴
kasumu hi ya me wo nuwaretaru kari ga naku

misty day--
with their eyes sewn shut
geese honking

Writing about a similar haiku of 1808, Jean Cholley explains that the scene is the poultry market in the Muromachi district of Edo (today's Tokyo). The birds' eyes were sewn shut to keep them immobile while being fattened in their cages; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 237.

1813

.雁鴨に鳴立られて雪げ哉
kari kamo ni naki taterarete yukige kana

geese and ducks
honking, quacking it away...
melting snow

Shinji Ogawa notes, "The phrase naki taterarete means "being chased away by the quacks."

1813

.かしましや江戸見た雁の帰り様
kashimashi ya edo mita kari no kaeri-sama

clamorous
wild geese who saw Edo
returning home

The geese returning from their long migration might signify Issa's own homecoming to his home village after years of exile. See Fujimoto Jitsuya, Issa no kenkyû (Tokyo: Meiwa Insatsu, 1949) 448.

1813

.善光寺も直ぐ通りして帰る雁
zenkôji mo sugu tôri shite kae[ru] kari

Zenko Temple, too
quickly passed over...
geese flying north

Zenkô Temple (Zenkôji) is the major Pure Land temple in Issa's home province.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1813

.又かとて鹿の見るらん帰る雁
mata ka tote shika no miruran kaeru kari

once again
the deer see them off..
geese flying north

Robin D. Gill detects humor in the phrase, mata ka tote, which "makes it seem like the deer are saying to themselves, 'Are they doing it again?'"

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1813

.行な雁どっこも茨のうき世ぞや
yuku na kari dokko mo bara no ukiyo zo ya

don't go geese!
everywhere it's a floating world
of sorrow

Issa uses "floating world" (ukiyo) in the old Buddhist sense: the world is temporary and imperfect. Literally, he advises the geese (or goose) that it's the same imperfect world of "thorns" (bara) everywhere, implying that there's no point in moving on. The following translation is freer but captures Issa's meaning in more contemporary language:

don't go, geese!
the world sucks
everywhere

1813

.鳴な雁どっこも同じうき世ぞや
naku na kari dokko mo onaji ukiyo zoya

don't cry, geese--
everywhere, the same
floating world

Issa uses "floating world" (ukiyo) in the old Buddhist sense: the world is temporary and imperfect. Geese migrating south for the winter honk noisily. Issa, as he likes to do, addresses them directly, consoling them that, no matter where they travel, they will always be in the same world of sorrow. Is the poem an invitation for the geese to stop their restless journey and settle down? Of course, they won't settle, and as they fly away Issa's thoughts and heart go with them.

In later years, Issa begins other haiku with the same phrase, "don't cry, geese" (1816, 1817, 1821, 1822).

This haiku is one of the "essential" 188 picked by the translator. back next

1813

.雁とぶや門の家鴨も貰ひ鳴
kari tobu ya kado no ahiru mo morai naki

geese flying south--
the ducks at the gate
cheer them on

The season is autumn, and so the geese are returning to Japan from northern lands. The ducks welcome them back.

1813

.雁鴎おのが雪とてさわぐ哉
kari kamome ono ga yuki tote sawagu kana

geese and gulls
raise a ruckus...
"It's my snow!"

Shinji Ogawa notes that ono ga yuki ("my snow") refers to the first-person quacking and squawking of the geese and gulls. The birds are clamoring, "It's my snow! It's my snow!"

1813

.今少雁を聞とてふとん哉
ima sukoshi kari wo kiku tote futon kana

won't be long now
I'll hear the wild geese...
futon

Issa unpacks his winter futon, but his mind races ahead to the spring geese.

1814

.辛崎の松はどう見た帰る雁
karasaki no matsu wa dô mita kae[ru] kari

how did the pines
of Karasaki look?
returning geese

Karasaki is a town on Lake Biwa. Shinji Ogawa notes that this haiku alludes to Bashô's verse, karasaki no matsu wa hana yori oboro nite: "the pines of Karasaki are fainter (or hazier) than the flowers."

1815

.朝もやの紛に雁の立にけり
asa moya no magire ni kari no tachi ni keri

under the cover
of morning's haze
geese taking off


1815

.小田の雁長居はおそれおそれとや
oda no kari naga-i wa osore osore to ya

rice field geese
if you stay too long
danger! danger!


1815

.釣人のぼんの凹より帰る雁
tsuribito no bon no kubo yori kaeru kari

behind the fisherman's neck
departing
geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands). Shinji writes, "This haiku is enigmatic. It says: 'From the recess of the fisherman's tray, geese are departing'."

Perhaps, however, Issa is using bon no kubo, as he sometimes does, to mean the nape of someone's neck. If so, the fisherman hears the geese depart behind him, as he watches (and fishes) in the opposite direction.

1815

.どこへなと我をつれてよ帰る雁
doko e na to ware wo tsure[te] yo kaeru kari

wherever you like
lead me along...
departing geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1815

.念仏がうるさいとてや雁帰る
nembutsu ga urusai tote ya kari kaeru

our praising Buddha
is a nuisance! the geese
depart

Or: "my praising..."

The nembutsu prayer is "Namu Amida Butsu"--"All praise to Amida Buddha!" As Shinji Ogawa points out, the "noisy prayer" has annoyed the geese, and so they fly away, continuing their migration.

I picture a temple scene.

1815

.はつ雁や畠の稲も五六尺
hatsu kari ya hatake no ine mo go roku shaku

autumn's first geese--
my rice field too
is five or six feet!

"My" is not stated in the original, but I assume that the garden is Issa's; he brags about it so proudly.

Shinji Ogawa agrees, noting that in 1815 Issa had a wife and farmland of his own. Shinji adds, "This is a haiku poet's way of saying, 'I am happy!'"

1815

.我が門に来て痩雁と成にけり
waga kado ni kite yase kari to nari ni keri

begging at my gate
the geese lose
weight


1815

.寒月や雁も金毘羅祈る声
kangetsu ya kari mo konpira inoru koe

cold moon--
the wild geese also pray
to Kompira

Kompira is a powerful mountain god who protects sailors and travelers.

1815

.しぐるるや在鎌倉雁かもめ
shigururu ya imasu kamakura kari kamome

winter rain falls
on Kamakura's residents...
geeses, gulls


1815

.口切やはやして通る天つ雁
kuchikiri ya hayashite tôru amatsu kari

I unseal the new tea
celestial geese
hurry on

Opening a container of new tea is a winter expression. Issa suggests a connection between his domestic action (opening the tea container) and the migration of wild geese in the sky above.

1816

.帰る雁浅間のけぶりいく度見る
kae[ru] kari asama no keburi iku do miru

departing geese--
how many times have you seen
Mount Asama's smoke?

Mount Asama is a volcano in Issa's home province of Shinano, active during the poet's lifetime. The eruption of 1783, when Issa was twenty-one years old and living in Edo (today's Tokyo), killed 1,151 people.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1816

.帰る雁花のお江戸をいく度見た
kae[ru] kari hana no o-edo wo iku do mita

departing geese--
how many times have you seen
blossom-filled Edo?

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1816

.どこでどう正月をした帰る雁
doko de dô shôgatsu wo shita kae[ru] kari

where and how
did you spend First Month?
returning geese


1816

.一組は千住留りか帰る雁
hito kumi wa senju-domari ka kae[ru] kari

will one flock
stop at Senju town?
geese flying north

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

He adds, "Senju is a town located in today's Arakawa-ku; in Issa's day it was the first post town for travelers from Edo to the northern provinces. Of course, the humor of this haiku lies in Issa's application of the human traveling scale to traveling geese."

1816

.木母寺の念仏さづかりて帰る雁
mokuboji no nembutsu suzukarite kae[ru] kari

learning to praise Buddha
at Mokubo Temple...
geese flying north

The nembutsu prayer is "Namu Amida Butsu"--"All praise to Amida Buddha!" Issa perceives the honking of the geese to be a natural, spontaneous prayer. They evidently learned it, he fancies, in their stay at Mokuboji (Mokubo Temple).

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1816

.我家を置ざりにして帰る雁
waga ie wo okizari ni shite kae[ru] kari

finalizing the divorce
leaving my house behind...
departing geese

Okizari is a term for a husband and wife's physical separation in the divorce process of Old Japan; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 253.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1816

.なくな雁けふから我も旅人ぞ
naku na kari kyô kara ware mo tabibito zo

don't cry, geese!
from now on
I'm a traveler too

Written in Eighth Month, 1816.

1817

.元日をするや揃ふて小田の雁
ganjitsu wo suru ya sorou[te] oda no kari

celebrating New Year's
en masse...
rice field geese


1817

.夜伽してくれたる雁も帰りけり
yotogi shite kuretaru kari mo kaeri keri

after many nights
telling me bedtime stories
the geese have left

The geese have begun their "return" journey (kaeri). Shinji Ogawa explains that the mo in this haiku signifies "at last," not (as I originally thought) "also." Shinji notes that yotogi means "story telling at night," but its more common and explicit meaning is "to make love at night." He paraphrases: "after entertaining me for many nights, the geese at last have left."

1817

.鳴くな雁どこも旅寝の秋の月
naku na kari doko mo tabine no aki no tsuki

don't cry, geese!
your inn is wherever
the autumn moon shines

Shinji Ogawa believes that Issa was thinking about Basho when he wrote this haiku. In the opening passage of his Oku no hosomichi ("Narrow Road to the Far Provinces"), Basho celebrates his deep and stirring desire to take to the open road. Shinji paraphrases Issa's haiku, "Don't cry geese! Wherever you are, we are all (temporal) travelers under the autumn moon."

In his first travel diary, Kansei san nen kikô ("Kansei Era Third Year [1791] Travel Diary"), Issa describes himself, "Rambling to the west, wandering to the east, there is a madman who never stays in one place. In the morning, he eats breakfast in Kazusa; by evening, he finds lodging in Musashi. Helpless as a white wave, apt to vanish like a bubble in froth--he is named Priest Issa."

1818

.雁鴨のきげん直るや春の雪
kari kamo no kigen naoru ya haru no yuki

improving the mood
of the geese and ducks...
spring snow


1818

.大雨やずっぷり濡て帰る雁
ôame ya zuppuri nurete kae[ru] kari

big rain--
soaked to the skin
the returning geese

One meaning of zuppuri is to plunge one's whole body into water or a bath; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 885.

1818

.帰り度雁は思ふやおもはずや
kaeri taku kari wa omou ya omowazu ya

are the geese yearning
to depart...
or not?

More literally, it's "time to return" (kaeri taku). This haiku has the prescript, "Takanashi Town." Shinji Ogawa paraphrases: (1) "The geese wish to depart, don't they?" (2) "I wonder whether the geese wish to depart or not?"

I wonder if the humor of this haiku, in Japanese, has to do with the indecisiveness of the flock. Is Issa saying: "Stay or go, make up your minds!"?

Shinji responds, "To me it seems that Issa is simply wondering whether the geese have the same thinking process as us. Usually, when Issa a has hidden intention, or 'twist', he lets the words betray it. I do not see any such intention in this haiku. It's so simple and pure."

1818

.帰る雁細い煙を忘るるな
kae[ru] kari hosoi keburi wo wasururu na

geese flying north
don't neglect to stop
for my thin smoke!

Literally, Issa tells the returning geese not to forget the "thin smoke" (hosoi keburi). I assume that he is referring to the chimney smoke of his own humble abode, urging the geese to descend for a visit.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1818

.雁にさへ袖引雨は降りにけり
kari ni sae sode-hiku ame wa furi ni keri

on the geese, too
the seductive rain
falling

The expression, sode hiku, literally denotes dragging one by the sleeve; metaphorically, it refers to seduction. The migrating geese enjoy the rain enough to linger another day.

1818

.こんな日も旅立よしか帰る雁
konna hi mo tabi tatsu yoshi ka kae[ru] kari

is today a good day
to journey too?
returning geese


1818

.松の木を置去にして帰る雁
matsu no ki wo okizari [ni] shite kae[ru] kari

divorcing
the pine tree...
geese on the move

Okizari is a term for a husband and wife's physical separation in the divorce process of Old Japan; see Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 253. Two years earlier (1816) Issa writes a similar haiku in which the geese "divorce"

his house. Literally, "the geese return" (kaeru kari), but the word "return" could mislead the English reader to think that the migrating geese are coming back to the place of the haiku. This is why I use the phrase "geese on the move" to close the poem.

1818

.我村はいく日に通る帰る雁
waga mura wa iku hi ni tôru kaeru kari

on what day
will you pass my village?
geese flying north

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

About this particular haiku, Shinji notes that iku hi ni means "on what day of the month." Issa is asking the geese: "On what day of the month will you pass my village?"

Like the geese, then, Issa too is traveling, thinking about his native village somewhere to the north: a fact that adds much to the haiku's emotional tone.

1818

.五百崎や鍋の中迄雁おりる
isozaki ya nabe no naka made kari oriru

Isozaki--
wild geese descend
even into a kettle!


1818

.はつ雁や同行五人善光寺
hatsu kari ya dôkô go nin zenkôji

autumn's first geese--
five people enroute
to Zenko Temple

The word "autumn," not stated in the original, is implied. Zenkô Temple (Zenkôji) is the major Pure Land temple in Issa's home province.

1819

.小社を三遍舞て帰る雁
ko yashiro wo san-ben maite kaeru kari

three times 'round
the little shrine...
departing geese

A Shinto shrine.

Sakuo Nakamura notes that the geese seem to be praying for their safe return journey.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1819

.早立は千住留りか帰る雁
haya tatsu wa senju-domari ka kaeru kari

rising early
will you stop at Senju town?
departing geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

He adds, "Senju is a town located in today's Arakawa-ku; in Issa's day it was the first post town for travelers from Edo to the northern provinces."

1819

.行な雁住ばどっこも秋の暮
yuku na kari sumeba dokko mo aki no kure

don't leave, geese!
wherever you live
it's autumn's dusk

This haiku appears in Issa's Hachiban nikki ("Eighth Diary"). He recopies it in Oraga haru ("My Spring") substituting dotchi ("either") for dokko ("where").

1819

.雁どもの腹もふくれて十三夜
kari-domo no hara mo fukurete jû san yo

the geese too
stuffing their bellies...
Ninth Month moon

The ending -domo indicates that there is a large number of the same thing in the scene, in this case, geese; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1183.

The geese join the people who are outside celebrating and eating under the full moon of Ninth Month, 13th day. In other poems written about this celebration, Issa refers to tea cakes and rice cakes. Perhaps he is sharing such treats with the geese.

In the old calendar, there were two harvest moons: the 15th day of Eighth Month (this is the more important meigetsu) and the 13th day of Ninth Month.

1819

.得手物の片足立や小田の雁
ete mono no kata [ashi]-dachi ya oda no kari

a talented one
posed on one foot...
rice field geese

In his translation, Nobuyuki Yuasa calls the goose "An expert acrobat." Yuasa leaves out the location (the rice field); The Year of My Life: A Translation of Issa's Oraga Haru, 2nd Edition (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1972) 119.

1819

.大組を呼おろしけり小田の雁
ôgumi wo yobi-oroshi keri oda no kari

calling a big gang
down to join them...
rice field geese


1819

.雁鴨や御成りもしらで安堵顔
kami kamo ya onari mo shirade ando kao

geese and ducks
unaware of the August Presence...
peaceful faces

Humans grovel in the presence of a Shôgun or member of the Imperial Family (onari), but not the geese and ducks! Issa presents their naturalness and indifference to human status as an ideal; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 275.

1819

.雁どもも夜を日に次で渡りけり
kari-domo mo yo wo hi ni tsuide watari keri

you too, wild geese
all day, into the night
must travel

The "too" (mo) implies that Issa is traveling also.

The ending -domo indicates that Issa is referring to a large number of the same thing, in this case, wild geese; Kogo dai jiten (Shogakukan 1983) 1183.

1819

.木母寺古き夕や芦に雁
mokuboji no furuki yûbe ya ashi ni kari

tonight like old times
at Mokubo Temple...
geese in the reeds


1820

.親と子の三人連や帰る雁
oya to ko no sannin-zure ya kaeru kari

parents and child
three in a row...
the geese depart

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

Of course, Issa has no idea as to which geese are related. Shinji points out that they breed, in summer, in Russia. Therefore, it is entirely Issa's opinion whether a grouping of three geese constitute parents and a child. Shinji adds, "We must recollect that Issa lost his children in 1816 and in 1819 to understand why he sees the three geese as the parents and a child."

1820

.辛崎を三遍舞て帰る雁
karasaki wo san-ben maite kaeru kari

three times 'round
Karasaki...
departing geese

Karasaki is a town on Lake Biwa. A year earlier (1819) Issa writes a similar haiku in which the geese fly three times 'round a little Shinto shrine.

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1820

.すっぽんも羽ほしげ也帰る雁
suppon mo hane hoshige nari kae[ru] kari

even the turtle
wants feathers...
the geese depart

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1820

.闇の夜も道ある国や帰る雁
yami no yo mo michi aru kuni ya kaeru kari

in the dark night, too
finding their way...
the geese depart

Literally, "the province has a road" (michi aru kuni ya).

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1820

.あれ月が月がと雁のさわぎ哉
are tsuki ga tsuki ga to kari no sawagi kana

"There's the moon!
The moon!"
wild geese clamor


1820

.開帳の跡をかりてや雁の鳴
kaichô no ato wo karite ya kari no naku

in the wake
of the Buddhist procession...
honking geese

An image of the Buddha is being taken to its place of exhibition. The geese come honking behind--a sign of natural piety or comic irreverence?

1821

.なくな雁いつも別は同じ事
naku na kari itsumo wakare wa onaji koto

don't cry, geese
parting is always
the same thing


1822

.大組の後やだまって帰る雁
ôgumi no ato ya damatte kaeru kari

after the big flock
silence...
geese flying north

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1822

.なくな雁とても一度は別れねば
naku [na] kari tote mo ichi do wa wakareneba

don't cry, geese!
in the end our parting
is inevitable


1822

.何事ぞ此大雨に帰る雁
nanigoto zo kono ôame ni kaeru kari

what a thing!
in this deluge
the geese depart

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1822

.満月の図を抜しとや帰る雁
mangetsu no zu wo nukeshi to ya kaeru kari

straight out of a full moon
painting...
the geese depart

I believe that Issa is saying that the migrating geese have flown straight out of some painter's picture of full moon and migrating geese: life imitating art.

Shinji Ogawa concurs with this interpretation. He writes, "It is a typical Japanese painting that a line of flying geese crosses a full moon." He adds that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

1822

.雪の降る拍子に雁の帰りけり
yuki no furu hyôshi ni kari no kaeri keri

to the rhythm
of the falling snow
the geese depart

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

It is ironic that this spring event takes place amid snow--an allusion, perhaps, to the famous coldness of Issa's home province.

1822

.行雁の下るや恋の軽井沢
yuku kari no oriru ya koi no karuizawa

traveling geese
go down to make love...
the town of Karuizawa

Shinji Ogawa explains that, in Issa's day, Karuizawa, close to the Mount Asama, "was a prosperous post town. Consequently, there might have been many prosititutes in the town. After the modern railroad passed it by, the town was forgotten for a while. However, an English missionary discovered the area as a good summer resort in 1886. Now it is the most famous summer resort area in Japan."

1822

.大組の空見おくるや小田の雁
ôgumi no sora miokuru ya oda no kari

seeing off
a big gang in the sky...
rice field geese


1822

.用心は雁もおき番寝ばん哉
yôjin wa kari [mo] okiban neban kana

how prudent!
the geese post guards
awake, asleep


1823

.江戸の水呑みおふせてやかへる雁
edo no mizu nomi ôsete ya kaeru kari

drinking Edo's water
at last...
returning geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

Edo is the old name for today's Tokyo.

Issa wrote this haiku in Fifth Month, 1823. In First Month, 1824, he writes a similar one:
edo no mizu nonde koe shite kaeru kari

honking while they drink
Edo's water...
returning geese

1824

.江戸の水呑んで声してかへる雁
edo no mizu nonde koe shite kaeru kari

honking while they drink
Edo's water...
returning geese

Shinji Ogawa points out that kaeru in this context can be translated as "return" or "leave." Since this is a spring haiku, the wild geese are leaving Japan (i.e., returning to northern lands).

Edo is the old name for today's Tokyo.

Issa wrote this haiku in First Month, 1824--even though the editors of Issa zenshû, in Volume 1, erroneously attribute it to 1822; (Nagano: Shinano Mainichi Shimbunsha, 1976-79) 1.156. The previous year, in Fifth Month, he wrote:
edo no mizu nomi ôsete ya kaeru kari

drinking Edo's water
at last...
returning geese

1824

.朝雨や雁も首尾よく帰る声
asa ame ya kari mo shubi yoku kaeru koe

morning rain--
geese, too, celebrate
their successful return

Literally, the geese's migration has been well-done "from head to tail" (shubi).

Who else is returning from a journey, making a happy noise? Perhaps Issa?

1824

.もどかしや雁は自由に友よばる
modokashi ya kari [wa] jiyu ni tomo yobaru

how irritating!
the wild geese freely
call their friends

This haiku, composed on the first day of Eighth Intercalary Month, alludes to the fact that Issa lost his power of speech due to a stroke. The poet is envious of the freely chattering geese. See Steven D. Carter, Traditional Japanese Poetry (Stanford: Stanford Univ. Press, 1991) 420.

1825

.門の雁我帰ってもねめつける
kado no kari ware kaette mo nemetsukeru

geese at my gate--
when I return
how they glare!

Or: "goose at my gate...how it glares!"

Makoto Ueda translates kari ("wild goose") as "wild duck"; Dew on the Grass: The Life and Poetry of Kobayashi Issa (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2004) 3.

1825

.雁がねの気どきに並ぶ烏かな
kari ga ne no kidori ni narabu karasu kana

wild geese clamoring
and one pretentious
crow

Or: "and pretentious/ crows." French translator Jean Cholley chooses the plural; En village de miséreux: Choix de poèmes de Kobayashi Issa (Paris: Gallimard, 1996) 225.

I think the haiku is more humorous to imagine just one crow, strutting importantly.

1825

.雁鴨や鳴立られて馬逃る
kari kamo ya naki taterarete uma nigeru

geese and ducks
honking, quacking away...
the horse


1825

.くつろいで寝たり起たり門の雁
kutsuroide netari okitari kado no kari

making themselves at home
asleep, awake...
geese at my gate


All translations © 1991-2010 by David G. Lanoue, rights reserved.