Japan Haiku Number 3, Harajuku and Shinjuku Station, Tokyo

 

Like poor Hachikō

Abandoned umbrellas wait

for absent masters

 

Something I’ve noticed is there’s an awful lot of abandoned umbrellas around Tokyo, left in metro stations, hanging on the backs of chairs, in umbrella stands outside of closed shops. People forget them, but then everyone is so polite, no one picks them up to use them. They just apparently stay there, waiting to be reunited with their owners, who will probably not return to collect them.

It reminded me of Hachiko, the poor dog who greeted his master, a university professor, at the station after work every day. One day, his master didn’t return, he had suddenly died that day, but the dog diligently waited for him to get off the train, turning up at the precise time every day for the rest of his life, which was nearly ten more years. After initially being shooed away every day, someone found out (through following the dog home and asking the professor’s former gardener) who the dog belonged to. He told him about the sudden death of their neighbour, and slowly, through word of mouth and then through newspaper articles, Hachiko became a revered celebrity, loved by commuters who would feed and pet him, teaching us the value of friendship and loyalty.

There is a statue of Hachiko at Shibuya station, his body is stuffed and presented in one of the Tokyo museums too. The story just breaks my heart. I’m a cat person, and love their fickle ways, but how can anyone not be moved by this tale of unconditional love.

I spent a day with a Japanese friend, who showed us around Tokyo. It was raining. We passed through one of the busiest stations in the world, Shinjuku, which at peak times servers over 3.5 million passengers per day, making it easily the world’s busiest station. There were a few abandoned umbrellas there too…

But rather than take a picture of an abandoned umbrella, which I couldn’t make look interesting, today’s pic is of people holding up their umbrellas in the cool and quirky district of Harajuku.

Japan Haiku number 2. Great Buddha, Kamakura

Sweet smoke coils and drifts

Under the unmoving gaze

Of benevolence

Fascinating visiting Kamakura, where the Great Buddha watches over the faithful and the tourists. My Japanese friends taught me about the symbolism of the faith, of the offerings of fruit and flowers and the smoke from the incense cleansing the pilgrims. Was a beautiful day.

Japan Haiku number 1. Ginza, Tokyo

Cormorant rode the

Water with a burst of wing

And was lost in light 

The return of a Haiku a day. I'm in Japan at the moment, this is my first day here. A brief sight of a cormorant sitting in the water flapping its wings, whilst I was on the train, then it was gone. The gardens I passed on the journey looked meticulous, beautiful in fact. But the city itself is really confusing for the uninitiated. You need to understand using all three dimensions. You could shoot past a place because it's not on street level ... It's either high up or in a basement!

The photo is therefore not of the elusive cormorant I saw, but rather a street in Ginza. That's the light referenced. Slightly edgy, full of cheap eats and bars.

December 31st

we start in winter

dark days of gale, frosty breath

in watery sun

 

till the axis tips

into her majestic arms

and we are bathed in

 

her spring coat of green

the world bursts in bright colour

and a smile conquers

 

our hearts through summer

the moors alive with new birth

till the autumn fall

 

of gold leaf litter

the fungi bloat in shadow

the nourishing rain

 

and the coming cold

the flakes of new snow tumble

we end in winter

 

That’s it. All done. Thank you to all of you who have read my Haikus. Much love to you and your loved ones for 2013. xxx

December 30th

the wispy tufts of

the old man’s beard in verges

hedge sparrow wind breaks

Old Man’s Beard is a common species of climbing plant which seeds in winter. The seed is covered in a tufty whiteness. I hadn’t ever noticed it before, or rather, I hadn’t paid attention to it, my distracted mind filtering it out, but D educated me. It seems to be very common in the hedges. I can imagine little Hedge Sparrows (Dunnocks) nestling in it, like a big Santa beard!

 

(image – RSPB website)

December 29th

 

the breath of wanting

love the great leveller cleaves

a sword to the soul

the crown slips silent

shamed in his palsied grasp, dull

in her tender glow

the barefoot beggar

girl, august and comely eyed

the King at her feet

 

I’m really pleased with this three-tiered Haiku, it’s in tribute to one of my favourite paintings. King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid (1884, Edward Burne-Jones). It currently forms part of Tate Britain’s Pre-Raphaelite exhibition (Victorian Avant-Garde) although it has been on permanent display for a while in the main galleries.

I went to the exhibition today and to see it in the context of the other works was wonderful. I could have picked any one of a number of subjects, but this work always strikes me.

In summary, King Cophetua is transfixed and falls in love with a beautiful beggar girl Penelophon. In Burne-Jones’ painting, he paints her in a prominent position, elevated above the King, as if on a throne, he is her vassal. She looks beyond him, beyond the painting, she doesn’t meet our gaze either. She has a regal dignity, but also a humility. She is utterly beautiful. And he, seeing she ignores him, dares not approach, dares not be so bold as to sit next to her. He appears to remove his crown, to become the beggar, imploring her to be his bride. Love is the great leveller and this touching painting captures it so wonderfully.

Burne-Jones’ great friend William Morris was a staunch and principled socialist, so there is speculation that this painting is a homage to him, but whatever the inspiration, it sings. There is a tenseness and a tenderness, it talks of love and lust. And a hopefully happy future for the couple (and yes, they did live “happily ever after”).

Burne-Jones is my favourite of the Pre-Raphaelite painters, the subtlety of detail, the level of emotion conveyed in seemingly sullen faces. And the eyes, I am always drawn to the eyes. They take my breath away.

(image from Wikipedia, but images/painting owned by Tate)

December 28th

old faces return

wind scored by sixty winters

wretched gathering