Where Light Begins Begins Light Where Where Light
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Where Light Begins where light Haiku begins Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Sed diam nunc, sodales ut vulputate dignissim, vestibulum ut est. Suspendisse aliquet rhoncus arcu, a fermentum nisl pellentesque vel. Sed sed enim id dui volutpat ullamcorper. Sed aliquet dolor quis arcu fringilla Gabriel Rosenstock H a i k u condimentum. Haiku in English, much of which appeared originally in Irish from the author of the much-praised twin volumes of musings on haiku as a way of life, Haiku Enlightenment and Haiku, the Gentle Art of Disappearing (Cambridge Scholars Publishing). With an Afterword by Susumu Takiguchi, Chairman World Haiku Club. This book also contains Rosenstock’s ground-breaking essay on Issa. Gabriel www.originalwriting.ie Rosenstock ISBN 978-1-908817-47-1 Edited by Mícheál Ó hAodha 9 781908 817471 where light begins H a i k u Gabriel Rosenstock Edited by Mícheál Ó hAodha ORIGINAL WRITING Some of these haiku originally appeared in the author’s selected haiku in Irish, Géaga Trí Thine (Comhar 2006) and in various poetry and haiku journals including Sirena, World Haiku Review, Blithe Spirit, Moonset, Lá, Simply Haiku, Lishanu, Feasta, Haiku Scotland, Poetry Ireland Review, The Heron’s Nest, Cordite, Montage An Chéad Chló 2012 (Red Moon Press 2010), THE SHOp, and in his two books on © Leaganacha Gaeilge: haiku as a way of life, Haiku Enlightenment and Haiku, the Gentle Gabriel Rosenstock, 2012 Art of Disappearing (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009) Cover Photography by Ron Rosenstock. Further information at: - http://www.ronrosenstock.com/ Back cover illustrated by Ion Codrescu Further information at: - http://www.tempslibres.org/sites/ion/en/Ionpage.html Gach ceart ar cosnamh. Ní ceadmhach aon chuid den fhoilseachán seo a atáirgeadh, a chur i gcomhad athfhála nó a tharchur in aon mhodh ná slí, bíodh sin leictreonach, meicniúil, bunaithe ar fhótachóipeáil, ar thaifeadadh nó eile, gan cead a fháil roimh ré ón bhfoilsitheoir. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems—without the prior written permission of the author. ISBNs Parent : 978-1-908817-47-1 ePub: 978-1-908817-48-8 Mobi : 978-1-908817-49-5 Published by Original Writing Ltd., Dublin, 2012. Printed by Clondalkin Group, Glasnevin, Dublin 11 iii ZEN -HAIKU MASTER J W HACKETT : A wonderful collection by this renowned Irish poet. Haiku there must be light humour alternates with profundity – due to his remarkably keen where they came from – observation and understanding of the genre. Best of all, the chestnut blossoms sense of identity between poet and subject adds a quality that distinguishes great haiku poetry. sickle moon - reaping emptiness iv 1 fish-vendor testing church bells – the knife’s edge – where are they all going? swarms of ants seagulls cry outside the Guggenheim knowing its name: the lungwort the shape springs up in every cranny of real trees 2 3 a magpie was its spirit released? sipping beakfuls flaming limbs of its latest image of an old tree where’s the hedgehog tonight flea market in Valparaiso has she found leaves - a German helmet finally, a resting place? eaten by rust foghorn … sun shower - little by little flowers, weeds, stones the world disappears drenched in enlightenment three stabs at nothing! the heron shakes its head in disbelief 4 5 the seal’s pupil in blackest night brimming over – what does the hedgehog dream - gleams from a lighthouse does she dream in colour? island post box matching the moss the empty thud it explores: green of a letter on the pigeon’s neck drizzly morning … a pigeon savours a drunk’s vomit 6 7 Bombay, dark morning rags on a pavement a crow a body stirs in them looks down a chimney pot 8 9 all day … and every day grey November strand unseen rays streaming from the sunflower lugworms burrow for secrets our daughter two hearts beating in her now how strange frosty morning a robin bares his breast to the whole world the wild duck slows down almost to the pace of the stream creeping ever closer to the frozen birdbath morning sunshine 10 11 blossomless how relaxed but not unloved the seaweed-covered boulder the old magnolia massaged by waves 12 13 two magpies standing up in flight: one to the morning haar – the soul of the other seldom-blooming magnolia not that we had forgotten! yellow furze again with his one good hand a scarecrow points to the moon 14 15 a pigeon coos to itself there! wiggling in the light – until it no longer but what are they in shade? has a self crazy tadpoles … baby frog! who was your mother honeysuckle! where is she now lift high your chalice now this autumn day for all sentient beings bathroom spider was that your ghost sent out into the great wide world … softly among fallen leaves chill of tiles dead hedgehog 16 17 their first full moon – pale yellow sound - all the tadpoles putting out the candle eerily quiet a second moth spared leaping back into the pond what only yesterday was a tadpole 18 19 watering the magnolia – faces ah, that’s where you’re hiding! in the flaming coals pesky midges these, too, will change sheep-droppings flowers in a vase a baker’s dozen a cat prowls each one the same the bare garden ah! mounting each other passing a laundrette with such gentleness this spinning world ... August evening clouds becoming still flicking their tails out of habit cows in the chill of autumn 20 21 empty slipping over morning fields circus field a sunray one catches the hare’s urine lonesome elephant turd Achill island oyster catchers gawping at tourists did her eyes watch that little danse macabre? decapitated hen 22 23 wolf-whistle! past and future lives the unintended girl in the unblinking eyes turns her head of a king cobra all that’s left of the night sun over the Himalayas two crows my mule drinks on a branch from the Ganges 24 25 nothing left harvest moon – but the gates - burying the short-lived hedgehog temple of air where she snuffled for worms news of a death the pigeon’s mate has flown a fruit-bat suspended in slumber still he struts chest puffed out an egret stands in a lagoon the sound of clothes washed on stones 26 27 how noble! the foot of the Cross - the horse on a coin a blood-stained snail no longer in use becomes a buddha the March air nipple-pink tendrils escaping the unripe from a broken pot raspberries– 28 29 from what unknowable universe beer beyond Hubble – left out for snails the cat’s green stare tomorrow’s buddhas frosty morning … the dead cat’s paw shield and sword intact reaches to the sun the grinning Viking raider never made it home bleak February morning a white cat declares itself in silence evening sunshine – graveyard midges Christ, how they bite! about to vanish in the morning sky orphaned moon dying notes of a bagpipe – singly and in groups Allah-o akbar! swallows disappear first light over Kochi trembling waves 30 31 criss-crossing the sky emerging the way to nowhere – swallows vanish from a dream the crackling dawn fierce lightning – for split seconds night is day what buddha’s eyes are opening? a pity the crow is black and cannot reflect this morning light a while ago sleek swallows now fixed stars scraping a parsnip still not as white as Bashō’s chrysanthemum 32 33 planting tulip bulbs slanting rain their future colour the seagull flying in this evening’s sky at an angle crows over Clonmacnoise their wing-beats bringing the darkness down lemon tree in the shade – not really! faint sunlight injecting the veins of a falling leaf roasting a pear in embers sizzling rain into the fireside crevice with all his legs big black spider full moon filling the eye fully 34 35 pale yellow urine frail evening cloud on dark green weeds … losing its shape - remembering Santōka calls it a day the light from the prison illusion of bloom how it burns silvery sun on all the magnolia buds rain cloud, pass by! the last of the leaves are shivering rarely still Connemara … zebra bamboo throwing a dead cat over the ditch mid February stars green green green the pines a glimpse of a god seconds before snow in the eyes of the cat following a moth 36 37 the cat – curled into herself – a flurry of fennel infinite night … and the voice of the lark her eyes is watery green when will they scurry through endless days? unformed tadpoles a bone on the beach that once had flesh and copulated two seagulls up high vanish into brightness a heron has just golloped a load of my tadpoles – my my my my 38 39 a crow calls stuck to the wall the bamboo rustles daddy long leg’s evening is born zazen twilight a rose paints itself will they see each other tonight? a deeper red by the hour polished beach pebble the moon barking dogs are they heard somewhere their duties all ended in the Milky Way? six ants in the robin’s beak over the wall and gone; but – for a second – sickle moon – the fox’s tail the gondolier is singing to himself 40 41 Kerala Rensaku heat shimmers A sequence from Southern India an old cyclist rides into infinity inedible green fruit its flowers distant stars scrawny dogs on the road before dawn going nowhere lull in conversation a shrivelled leaf crackles on the terrace 42 43 dawn figures a cooling breeze drifting to work … and once again crows too cackle of guinea fowl the flying foxes the sky are stilled is cleared of crows creaking of golden bamboo first star 44 45 spreading their wings from concentrated stillness taunting the whiteness of egrets a hawk little cormorants