World Haiku Series 2020 (20) Haiku by Barbara Olmtak

I’d like to share haiku by Barbara Olmtak featured and translated by Hidenori Hiruta of Akita International Haiku Network.

Akita International Haiku Network

World Haiku Series 2020 (20)

Haiku by Barbara Olmtak

rain-laden clouds

a white hydrangea

touches earth

雨雲

白い紫陽花

地に触れる

tropical elegance

in the somersaults

hummingbird’s call

熱帯の優雅さ

宙返りで

ハチ鳥の声

nature’s shelter for

the rainy season

mushrooms

自然の避難所

梅雨の時期

きのこ

a thousand times brighter

the moon and the sky

persimmons hanging to dry

千倍も明るい

月と空

吊されている干し柿

seeking shelter

a dragonfly perches

in the sumi-e

避難所を探す

トンボが止まる

水墨画に

the door ajar

in the autumn of life

wabi sabi deepens

ドアが半開き

人生の秋

侘寂が深まる

eternal glow

of Basho’s wisdom

narcissus

永遠の輝き

芭蕉の知恵の

水仙

onion bhajis

in grandma’s kitchen

sizzling noises

*bhaji: a spicy snack as entrée dish

タマネギのスナック

おばあちゃんのキッチンで

揚げるような音

be mindful!

we reap what we sow

harvest moon

心をこめて!

私たちが播いた種の収穫

中秋の名月

working the soil

a farmer’s curved back

winter crescent moon

土を耕す

農夫の曲がった背中

冬の三日月

sizzling colour palette

of kakigori

autumn fragrances

*kakigori: shaved ice

焼けるように暑いカラーパレット

かき氷の

秋の香り

―Translated into Japanese by Hidenori Hiruta

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World Haiku Series 2020 (12) Haiku by Christina Chin

I have the great honour of being featured in the Akita International Haiku Network. Many thanks to Hidenori Hiruta-san.

Akita International Haiku Network

World Haiku Series 2020 (12)

Haiku by Christina Chin

 

 

a kiss

beside the shoji screen 

b u t t e r f l i e s 

Published in Akitsu Quarterly Journal

キス

障子のそばで

蝶々

checkered light

under the trellis

petrea volubilis

Published in Cantos 2020 

多彩な光

格子の下

ペオレア・ウォルビス

frogs 

in the lily pond 

whistling ducks 

Published in Fireflies’s Light 

Note:

frogs 

in the lily pond 

whistling ducks (is also the name of a kind of duck. It makes the verse a bit interesting) 

 

ユリの池の中で

口笛を吹くように鳴くアヒル

rice plains 

a breeze spins rainbows 

in soap bubbles 

Published in Wales Haiku Journal 

田んぼ

そよ風が虹を紡ぐ

シャボン玉で

restless sea

the plover rushes in 

rushes out 

Published in Cattails (UHTS) 

絶えず動く海

千鳥が飛び込んだり

飛び出たり

castle ruins

classical guitars 

tremolo into sunset 

Published in Cantos 2020  

城跡

クラシックギター

日没へのトレモロ

passing voices 

so clear in the night 

wild geese 

通り過ぎる声

夜とてもよく聞き取れる

野生の雁

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Mid-Winter Haiku – Christina Chin

My haiku is today’s Mid-Winter feature by Red Alder Review. Thanks Michael!

Red Alder Review

fluffy snow flurries
on the fox’s furry coat
cold moon


Christina Chin writes and paints. She is 1st prize winner of the 34th Annual Cherry Blossom Sakura Festival 2020 Haiku Contest, 1st prize winner in the 8th Setouchi Matsuyama 2019 Photo-haiku Contest. Has won two City Soka Saitama’s 2020 haiku prizes. Earned five merits in the World Haiku Review August 2020. Published in Japan’s haiku monthly magazine, Haikukai (俳句界), Akita International Haiku Network, Frogpond Journal, the Red Moon Anthology, Akitsu Quarterly Journal, The Asahi Shimbun, ESUJ-Haiku, Presence, Chrysanthemum, Zen Space, Wales Haiku Journal, Prune Juice, Failed Haiku, Cattails (UHTS) and many more awards and accolades to her name.

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Geethanjali Rajan

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Geethanjali Rajan teaches English and Japanese in Chennai, India. She has been engaging with haiku for around 17 years and is drawn towards the  deep and wide possibilities of the form. She writes haiku, senryu, haibun, tanka and enjoys the collaborative writing of linked verse. Her poems have appeared in online journals and anthologies.  She conducts workshops and engages in discussions to help create interest in haiku and allied forms. Her interests include music, books and Japanese  calligraphy. She currently serves as editor of haiku at cattails (UHTS).
 
“Haiku helped open out a world that lay beyond my imagination – one where everything is simply-put, fuss-free and in perfect sync with the real world around, the environment and the people. This doesn’t mean that only beauty gets into haiku; it means that the disappointments, the negativity, sad moments, loss – they all get to be there too. I get to travel to many countries and partake of people’s life experiences, sitting in my home in South India, thanks to haiku. I find many parallels in thinking, in poetic traditions, in feelings experienced by individuals across the world. My life’s journey has been towards trying to look at meeting points, building bridges between experiences and cultures. I don’t think there is one predominant way to look at poetry or to define haiku. There are as many definitions and interpretations possible, as there are people. I also believe that the world has to become more inclusive and that it is possible through a form like haiku (at least when one keeps engaging with it), where it’s best to keep everything simple.
 
I do write other forms of prose, essays and poetry – whatever I feel like at the time. I love writing book reviews – it ensures that I read very closely! I read more than I write (thankfully!) and enjoy reading widely. I cannot say that I have a ‘favourite’ poet but I do have many favourite poems – too many to list. Lately, I have started enjoying the struggle of reading haiku in Japanese and interpreting them – a very daunting task for a non-native user of the language. But the process helps me learn more of the craft and the heart of haiku.
 
I love poetry collaborations – particularly, haiga and rengay. To be able to respond to another’s images (visuals or words) and to create a weave of meaning, emotions and expressions is a thrill.
 
My day job(s) centre around teaching and are connected to teaching language and culture.  I also help children faced with English language expression and acquisition challenges. I also do a lot of editing – a scientific journal too! At the end of a busy day, reading haiku helps me wind down and relax.
 
I believe that there is space for all types of haiku with the wide range of journals available now – traditional, with kigo/without kigo, without or with seasonal references, modern, post-modern and everything else. Each haiku will find a home, but that need not necessarily be the home the poet wants it to find! But find a home it will – even if it is in our own little hand-written notebooks or digital equivalents or social media platforms. If the poem is read and someone connects to it, the craft and art are alive. If not, it’s time to rework the poem or move on to the next moment.
 
I am grateful to the poets and readers in the haiku community for all the interactions. Thank you for the inspiration! The world is a better and more beautiful place because of you.”
 
With gratitude,
Geethanjali
 
 
Awards or other honours:
 
Some awards for haiku, senryu and haibun – very grateful to the judges with whom it resonated.
 
 
 
 
高潮や 取り残された 鳥の声
たかしおや とりのこされた とりのこえ
takashioya  torinokosareta  torinokoe
 
storm surge-
the voices of birds
left behind
 
(Translated version)
 
(Akita international Haiku Contest, 2019 – Japanese section – Honourable Mention)
 
 
 
 
incontinence . . .
remains of rain
from the red-tile roof
 
(Gene Murtha Third Annual Senryu Contest – Honorable Mention, 2018)
 
 
 
 
sakura flurry
the pre-schooler turns
into an airplane
 
(Sakura Award International Category – VCBF, 2017)
 
 
 
silent mountain path –
the continued chatter
in my mind
 
(Blithe Spirit, Feb 2018)
 
 
 
 
the cat and I
in a staring game
– mustard dusk
 
 
(Akitsu Quarterly, Winter 2016)
 
 
 
 
now we can talk
of what might have been –
  menopause
 
(Sonic boom senryu competition – 2015 (second prize)
 
 
 
 
sliver moon ~
I hear they played
our song last night
 
(Tata Lit Live haiku contest, second place, 2014)
 
 
 
 
 
last night’s storm –
mother sweeps away
the broken nest
 
(Raedleaf Poetry India Award – First Place (haiku) – 2013)
 
 
 
 
summer evening stroll
only my shadow
remains
 
(World Haiku Review, Haiku of Merit – Competition theme – Death of one’s beloved, Aug 2010)
 
 
 
 
 
retirement home-
mist smudges out
a mountain peak
 
(Polish International Haiku Competition – Commendation – 2019 )
 
 
 
 
Email address: engchennai2000 (at) gmail (dot) com  [for haiku and teaching-related discussions]
 

India tour

A few memories from this visual tour.

Sudeep's Journal

It feels like yesterday that I wore my uniform for the first time, and sat on that small class; but, it has already been more than three years and our college life is about to end. There are certain things that we won’t forget, certain days we would want to live again: the Welcome program, the farewell, the picnics, the tours, Hari sir’s strictness (which we hated back then but enjoy now ), Lalu sir’s singing, my jokes that wouldn’t make anyone laugh, the real-life stories we would hear from all the teachers, the playful banter with friends, the booze party hiding out from teachers in the tours, and so on. Although we weren’t that good dancers, we danced. Although we didn’t sing well, we sang our hearts out.

There are lots of memories, and it would take me a whole day to write all of them, but one, which…

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Last words

Reflections of a daughter. Touching.

Seli's Diary📖

Soul never dies

Last words can have such an impact on someone’s life. You might still remember some sweet words or some bitter words you heard years ago. You might have forgotten other stuffs but not how those words made you feel. Whenever those words come to your mind again, you relive those moments as if it happened just now. It might make you happy, sad, content or even angry.

I also relive many past moments in my head quite often. It’s funny how out of many moments lived with someone, only few stay in your subconscious mind permanently, keeps knocking and takes you back to those moments time and again…

I can never forget my mom who is up there in heaven. It’s been three years without her.She was with me for 28 years. In all these 28 years, there were many seconds, minutes and days that we have…

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another one of her antics

Nerr nerr nerr

Daydreaming as a profession

it was a charming night She really liked a man who could drive her from the restaurant after having quite some glasses to drink and he was that man He drove her to his house and helped her out of the car like a gentleman and even held her hand all the way to the door Her heart was pounding and her brain too. A voice kept saying 'He's the one. He's the one!' It was silenced when she saw two small animal heads on his doorstep. A cat's and a bunny's. The doormat was soaked with their blood She froze and the gentleman said, “Oh crap, not this shit again.” And he walked up to them and kicked them to the side like mini soccer balls “My ex-wife,” he said with a shrug. “Just another one of her antics. You get used after a while.” He opened the door…

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A very quick poetry challenge. Blink and you might miss it. Every Sunday join Ailsa Cawley, Christina Chin, Kushal Poddar, sonja benskin mesher, Fi, Spangle McQueen, Linda L. Ludwig and myself. Send me your wildflower poems #Wildflowerhour this Sunday and I will post them between between 8-9pm UK time. Artworks welcome, too.

Do join us for a very quick poetry challenge. Celebrate all things meadow to support National Meadows Day on July the 4th.

The Wombwell Rainbow

A very quick poetry challenge. Blink and you might miss it. What can you find blooming in a meadow? Celebrate all things meadow to support National Meadows Day on July the 4th. Send me your wildflower poems #Wildflowerhour this Sunday between 8-9pm UK time.

#Wildflowers Spring Light by Christina Chin

spring light
a ball disperses from her tiny fist

【千秋訳】
春の光
ボールが彼女の小さなこぶしから消える

-Christina Chin

garden seat
and sweet pea perfume
ploughman’s lunch

Editors Hidenori Hiruta, Ben Grafström and Team.

https://akitahaiku.com/serow/

-Christina Chin

caravan song
dandelions scatter here and there.

クリスチアン チン(インドネシア)
隊商の歌
たんぽぽはここにもあそこにも四散する
Published in Spring Saijiki 2019

finger painting red poppy fields
Tuscany sunrise

トスカーナの日の出指で描く赤い芥子  (tr. 千秋)

poppy fields
across the grasslands the timbre of sitar

シタールの音色横切るポピー畑 (tr. 千秋)

「シタールの音(ね)草原をこえ芥子畑(sitar no ne sougen wo koe keshi-batake) 」(Christina Chin, tr. N.U.Hanseki)

wind coursing
through red hills
sweeping poppies

the random trills
of violins
red poppy fields

spring fields
the fragrance of
wildflowers underfoot

wildflowers…
in my hand the glint

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