Stormy Sea

foamy sea –

the sommelier pours

only champagne

***

the storm is over –

reaching shore with a lifebuoy

the moon

***

storm offshore –

my mother-in-law lost

her pickled peppers

Poems by Cezar Florin CiobÎcă

Yesterday's rain in the pockets

 sunrise on the beach –

in the pockets of your coat

yesterday's rain

Lavana Kray

Almost always, in a good haiku, the author appeals to raw sensations that, unexpectedly, recall an event—one that is more profound and more emotional. I'm trying to approximate that.

One of the partners, now alone, goes out early to the beach in the cool air and randomly grabs the other’s leftover coat. That’s how they realize, from the sensation of dampness, that yesterday, they had walked together in the rain.

The sensation is surprising and deeply moving. Vibrant. Maybe, in that damp pocket, two hands once rested—fingers intertwined.

Comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu

Signs on the Sand

signs on the sand –

entrusting the wave

with the whole story

— Clara Toma, from the volume “Signs on the Sand”

A story by the sea, most likely one of love.

The wave took the whole story with it (it left no trace), but it does not disappear: it is carried on by the sea's roar.

Both people and waves are ever-changing, yet the sea remains—always there, waiting in the same place, holding a treasure of memories gathered over millennia.

Beyond the simple image of a drawing erased by a wave lies the fragility of love, but also the trust that the sea will keep the secret; each person will recognize only their own story. This is one of the sea’s eternal fascinations.

That word, “entrusting,” gives the poem weight—it suggests a vow made before a trustworthy, powerful, and mysterious witness.

(Comment by Ramona Bădescu)

Indeed, the entire charm of the text lies in the word “entrusting.”

If you stop to think about it, the author has already understood and accepted that everything that happened to her has no chance of being preserved, of lasting, of being known, recognized, or remembered. That the wave will quickly erase everything. And no one will know anything anymore. The story will merge with all the others the waves have stolen and tangled.

And so she had the courage to feel that her story, too, is woven into the all-knowing wave. That the wave has absorbed it. That it will always tell it to those ears that know how to listen with humility.

(Comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu)

Seaside Haiku

 his voice –

trying one by one

every seashell

Poem by Claudia Ramona Codăau

Translated version by Ana Drobot

Naming Directly

 Regarding the presentation of the emotion‑object in haiku—that is, the crow, the nightingales, the song, and the dragonfly mentioned above—I find it especially significant that the naming of such objects is always direct. Haiku avoids metaphor, simile, or personification. In the most successful haiku, nothing is likened to anything else. As Bashō said: “Learn about the pine from the pine; learn about the bamboo from the bamboo.” Learn what a pine is, not what it resembles—this seems to have been Bashō’s intention. I feel that this avoidance of metaphor or comparison stems from the poet’s need to convey directly and concretely the vision—and only the vision—that he experienced. 

(Keneth Yasuda - The Japanese Haiku)

To name directly—that is, not through a figure of speech. Simply evoke things, don’t distort them by turning them into literature. Rely on the unaltered impact of their presence.

However, it’s important to note that the word avoids is used, not eliminates. That nuance is a welcome one. It’s not a prohibition.

The emotion-object must not lose its objective impact. Any intervention upon it weakens and diminishes it.

This also means that the author isn’t necessarily aiming to convey, with sincerity, what they usually think they felt—their subjective, momentary impression. The vision must carry objectivity.

Comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu

Incompleteness

 I've said it before and I enjoy repeating it. I take pleasure in haiku written by authors in the Romanian language. And in what they’ve managed to achieve. From time to time, I discover something new. Something that deserves to be highlighted, to guide others in writing better and becoming aware of what they are doing.

I’ve used the word above in connection with allusiveness and fragmentation. As is natural for the haiku form, the text tends to use strings of words that don’t aspire to the length of full sentences. No one forbids sentences, of course, but authors naturally gravitate toward shorter phrases.

It’s normal for these fragments to have a kind of vibrational sense of incompleteness, to suggest continuations. To seem—or actually be—the result of omissions or compressions. Also, since haiku adopts a colloquial style, the compressed fragment can imply a certain hastiness in speech or a dramatization of the situation.

When a fragment is the shorter part of a text, its incompleteness can become much more striking. I’ve chosen three poems by Șerban Codrin in which the meaning of the phrases clearly depends on what follows. As they are, they merely tease us. The second part, just as concise, tells us what it's all about:

no matter how humble – / only when gathering potatoes / do we fall to our knees

no matter how poor – / here and there eaves / full of nests

together with the poor woodworm – / from the same wooden spoon / we eat greedily

These texts illustrate how, by initially evoking an incomplete circumstance, the reader is placed on alert. Incompleteness keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu

Thalatta

 a cry in the wasteland - 

spilled as if from a seashell

the sound of the sea

Thalatta was what inspired me. The fact that the sea and the Greeks’ cry are historically recorded—real, objective. But just as important is that, mirroring the event mentioned by historians, there is also a certain intimate occurrence, like in the well-known haiku the avalanche and the first kiss.

All I did was choose three reference points, but Blaga’s poem can inspire you too—you’ll find plenty of material in it.

Good luck.

(Poem and comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu)