It's pretty difficult to try and depict a scene that doesn’t have anyone in it. Even if an author tries to keep it empty, they themselves tend to sneak in there somewhere, as though reflected in a mirror. This prize winner, depicting a vending machine illuminated alone on a cold winter night, is comprised of the absolute minimum required nouns, completely removing any human presence. It shares the same kind of atmosphere as the cool vistas painted by American artist Edward Hopper. Everything it projects feels cold, right down to the drinks on sale.
(Arthur Binard)
The Results of the 32nd
There were 33,941 entries in theEnglish Haiku division of this contest. (All division combined featured entries from 64 different contries.) We would like to introducethe winning pieces of this English Haiku division.
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From just the first two lines, I thought for a moment that it had to be a pretty serious burn! And then the third line solves the mystery. The pandemic years have left a patterned personal history, just as they have a Japanese and global one.
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A river “meanders” in English when it snakes around. It’s like a form of onomatopoeia. If you say “meander, meander” it does sound like something writhing around. The gerund form is also used here, “meandering,” with the repetition further heightening the twisty feeling. The river has its reasons for taking the path it takes. If you want to know what they are, you’d better ask the river.
Comparing various haiku that you like helps to highlight the subtle differences between them. Take, for example, Kyoshi Takahama’s “The vast sky/hanging suspended/a dragonfly” and Issa’s “After doing your best/leave everything/in the hands of Buddha.” Both deal with different seasons and topics, and even the degree to which the author is included in the work differs, with Issa being far more present in his piece. The haiku “a shriveled gecko/lying on the window sill ―/far-off thunder,” picturing a dried-up gecko, takes a similar distance as to the dragonfly in Kyoshi’s piece. Meanwhile, the haiku “when a police car passes/I didn’t do anything/palpitate,” describing that lurch when the police pass by even when you’ve done nothing, includes even more of the author than Issa’s piece. The fun of comparison is one of the joys of haiku.
There were many pieces about masks again this year, the difference from last year being that now the masks are coming off, with excellent results in some cases. Regrettably, many pieces also made use of infamous Japanese home-grown “English” words, that may sound like English but won’t fly with native speakers. Be sure to check carefully whether something is actually used in English. Verbs and prepositions should also be embraced rather than abbreviated.