Haiku Poetry in Hungary

by Prof. Judit Vihar

The influence of Japanese poetry, especially haiku, on Hungarian literature can be traced as far back as the end of the 19th century. Hungarian impressionist writers, who at that stage got acquainted with translations of haiku into English and French, were influenced by the economy and the exoticism of these poems, not to mention their rhythmical structure and melodiousness. As we can see, haiku, a genre of poetry that originated in the Far East, came to Hungary from the West. Hungarian poets who were fond of the works of Baudelaire, Verlaine and Rimbaud, started trying to adopt haiku, make them customary for Hungarian literature. As it happened, Hungarian haiku have gone through various stages of development and now we can speak of a specifically Hungarian way of writing these poems, which can account for both their form and content.

Among the Hungarian poets who tried to develop this form we have to mention Dezső Kosztolányi (1885-1936) who published a volume of Chinese and Japanese poetry in his translation. Later, he intrigued his readers with a sequence of tanka and haiku written under a somewhat Japanese-sounding pen-name, Horiguchi Niko. Unlike Japanese haiku, which are mora-based, the Hungarian model of haiku is based upon the alternation of short and long syllables. In Kosztolányi's translations, as well as in his original poetry, he disregarded the 5-7-5 structure; however he arranged his poems into four lines, instead of three. He even used end rhyme and gave a title to each piece. Despite all that, his poems sounded very much like genuine Japanese haiku. Kosztolányi was so popular in his times that his efforts made haiku widely known to our readers. 

Another outstanding poet of the period between the world wars was Miklós Radnóti (1909-1944). A tragic figure in Hungarian poetry, he was sent by the Nazis to a concentration camp and died there. Radnóti was a real virtuoso of verse. He also wrote very short haiku-like poem, which he, by the way, never called haiku.

Yet another prominent Hungarian poet, Béla Vihar (1908-1978), created not only the philosophical poetry he is better known for but also short haiku-like pieces. We should also mention Sándor Kányádi (b. 1929), not only an innovative haiku poet but also a notable literary translator. 

The popularity of haiku in Hungary was on the increase ever since the beginning of the 1980s. In the 1990's, the sudden, though long-awaited, introduction of freedom of speech in our society had a positive effect on our artists and literati, and encouraged them to try new things. Of course, many of our haiku writers are still influenced by classical Japanese haiku and mostly write according to the traditional saijiki, but there are some other poets, at least fifty of them, who are not afraid of experimenting in this genre. An anthology of 1,000 haiku by 282 Hungarian authors has been published in 2010.

In 2000, the Hungarian Haiku Club was founded using the framework of the Hungary-Japan Friendship Society. Many of its members are university students of Japanese, who try their luck at writing haiku, mostly in Hungarian, but occasionally in Japanese. Today, the Hungarian Haiku Club organizes periodical meetings in some picturesque locations, sometimes related to Japanese culture (e.g. in a Japanese garden or in a statue park). In 2010, the Hungary-Japan Friendship Society and the Hungarian Haiku Club co-organized a World Haiku Festival in Pécs, the cultural capital of European Union, which proved to be a great success.

Translated by the author and Anatoly Kudryavitsky

Judith Vihar is a haiku poet and the President of the  Hungary-Japan Friendship Society

Copyright

 
You may have never thought of it but if you write a haiku you create a copyright to your poem. Here in Europe your right to be identified as the author of your text is protected by Directive 2004/48/EC of the European Parliament and of the Council of 29 April 2004 on the enforcement of intellectual property rights (also known as "(IPR) Enforcement Directive" or "IPRED"). How does it apply to haiku poets?

Copyright Infringements

 
There were a few notorious breaches of copyright over the last few years. A certain UK resident copied haiku from a few Irish haiku sites and re-published them under his own name naively believing that they were not protected by the copyright legislation as they had initially been published outside his country. A certain Russian haiku site copied the contents of a few issues of Shamrock onto their pages; without permission, of course. In both cases it took some efforts to stop the copyright infringers.

Performing in public

 
The owner of a copyright work has the exclusive right to adapt or perform that work, which includes reading it in public. Reciting somebody else's work in public will therefore require permission. Actually, some authors are very cautious about allowing others to perform their works, and rightly so. So if anybody attempts to recite your poems at a public reading without your prior permission, as it recently happened in Belgium at the Ghent International Haiku Festival 2010, you should know that it is illegal. If somebody approaches you for permission, you may give your consent or not. Your no is a final no.

Translating Haiku

 
A translation is an adaptation, too, and will also require permission. However, despite some writers' belief that they hold the copyright to translations of their work into other languages no matter who made them, this isn't true. It is the translator who enjoys the copyright in his original expression embodied in the translation. Let us repeat it: the creator of a text owns the copyright to that text but the translator holds the copyright to his translation. The translation in itself attracts copyright in so far as the translator's skill and effort have gone into it.

Acknowledging Translators' Work

 
According to the European copyright law, the translator's name must always be stated in literary publications. In fact, even this basic rule is not always observed. The organirsers of the aforementioned Ghent Haiku Festival 2010 approached some of the future participants requesting that they translate a classical Flemish haiku by August Vermeylen into their languages. Our translations were later displayed on huge posters hanging around the city, as well as on the commemorative plaque displayed on one of the bridges. Translators' names... you guessed right: they were omitted.

Dealing with Publishers

 
This can be tricky. Of course, a professional translator won't put a pen to paper without signing a binding agreement with the publisher. This is the only safe way of doing it. You can trust a certain publisher who you think trustworthy but if you haven't signed an agreement be prepared for an unpleasant surprise, like seeing your name removed from under your translations.

How They do it in Slovenia

 
The Slovenian haiku poet Alenka Zorman e-mailed me a file that contained twenty-one poems by another Slovenian poet, Marko Hudnik, and also his attempts at translating his poems into English. Ms Zorman's request was to 'proof-read' these 21 self-translations, as they were about to be published in book-form. Having explained that neither proof-reader nor editor could save the poet's self-translations into English, as they were not up to a publishable standard, I offered to make my own translations, on condition that I would be credited as a co-translator. I mentioned that I only wanted to help and therefore won't be seeking any royalties. Ms. Zorman, the editor of the book, wrote to me accepting these terms, and so I made my own versions of Mr Hudnik's poems.

 
In a few months’ time I received a copy of the book. Surprise, surprise: Marko Hudnik was mentioned as the sole translator of his poems despite the fact that most of my translations were published as they were. Just a few examples:

 
I was mentioned in the book as a ‘haiku translation consultant’ (did I consult anybody?), which can’t mask the obvious: I was shamelessly robbed of my right to be acknowledged as at least a co-translator of these poems.

 
To be sure, I wrote to the editor, Ms. Zorman; to the publisher, Primoz Repar of Apokalipsa Publishing, and to the poet Marko Hudnik demanding explanation. The publisher, Mr. Repar, didn’t deign to answer. Ms Zorman, who gave me her word that I would be credited as a co-translator, replied by saying that “it was difficult to list the names of all the people (??) who co-translated the book”. Apparently, stripping one of the translators of his copyright wasn't too difficult for her. Mr Hudnik’s response was, “I can’t say a single word on our subject.” In relation to Mr. Hudnik, I must confess that I can’t find a single word to describe such a loss of integrity in a poet. I have always been sure that any honest littérateur, if such a mistake had been made, would be the first to admit it… Am I too optimistic? I almost forgot to mention that I had translated both Ms. Zorman’s and Mr. Hudnik’s poems before, and my translations have been published in Shamrock No 12. Isn’t it amazing how some people take you for granted?

How to Deal with Copyright Infringers?

 
Lawyers recommend that in cases like this a copyright claim should be brought in by the party deprived of their copyright. I hereby lay a copyright claim to the twenty of my translations published in the Marko Hudnik’s book as the author’s self-translations (the number of poems in the final version of the book has been reduced). I am prepared to prove in any court of law that the copyright belongs to me as my skill and effort have gone into the translated texts. In relation to some of the poems, e.g. the five poems quoted above, I could even have claimed the copyright as the sole translator, and it would have only been fair.

Advice for Translators of Haiku

 
You surely don’t demand a publishing agreement every time somebody asks you to translate a number of haiku. But if you don’t you take chances. We have already warned our readers about the perils of self-translation (see the editorial here: http://shamrockhaiku.webs.com/shamrockno5.htm). Now, a new danger.
Everybody can do a hudnik: the method is now known. First Google-translate your poems, then get a native English speaker to actually translate the literals into a good English and finally remove his name and publish his versions under yours. It is easy; as easy as robbing a passerby.

 
Of course, the readers can draw their own conclusions and give their own answer to the following questions: should we trust all of our haiku correspondents? Is Apokalipsa a rogue publisher? Can Google translations be regarded as your own translations? Can the author of literal translations completely rewritten by another translator claim the copyright to the resulting texts?

The Last Line of Defence

 
We sadly note that publishers and event organisers of all kinds less and less respect poets and often attempt to use them. Of all poets, haiku writers suffer most. It isn’t easy to imagine a poetry festival that lasts the whole week, in the course of which period the invited poets are not allowed to read from their works even once, nor can they say anything during the so-called workshops where the participants can only listen. However this is what actually happened in September 2010 at the Ghent International Haiku Festival where 32 widely recognised haiku poets from all over the world were well fed and well looked after but their voices were smothered by the squall of more or less melodious sounds produced by the local amateur musicians paraded in front of the poets for seven long days.

 
The fact of the matter is, if you turn your back on poetry it will turn your back on you. This is what arts administrators of all kinds have to bear in mind. Poets’ dignity and their moral right to be recognised as the authors of their works are their last line of defence. This is what we have to fight for – simply because we just can’t give it up. Unfortunately, these situations are not uncommon. “Pitfalls for poets are many and various,” the author Victoria Strauss once said. Let’s make sure we know how to avoid them.

 

migrating birds
a street kid counts his many
train fares home

wind in the eaves…
a distant violin
fills the gaps

through a whale’s jawbone
to bargain souvenirs…
autumn wind

windy creek –
each blade of spike rush
in its own circle

-- Lorin Ford (Australia)

winding its way
across the meadow
the horse’s muzzle

a gartersnake
in the waterwheel’s shade
the dust-lined creek

fallow deer fade into dusk the gathering rooks

flicking twigs from the high tide line winter pipit

-- John Barlow (England)

down the tiled facade
of a half-demolished pub
tepid rain

back and forth over
the road and its treetops
pairs of magpies

all the shovelers up-ending August dusk

-- Matthew Paul (England)

nature reserve
a frog's eyes
in the leaf litter

the waterweed's
thorny flower...
swimming hole

mid-afternoon
the water insects'
slow drift downstream

-- Leonie Bingham (Australia)

seaside centaury
sheltering from the west wind
a pied wagtail

harvest gathering
all around the wheat field
woodpigeons coo

sweeping autumn rain
on the low-tide beach
a figure digs for bait

countless rosehips
in October sunshine
one red admiral

-- Thomas Powell (Northern Ireland)

a grass snake
escaping into
my thought of it

sunlit street
and a shady one –
the busy bridge between

castle keep
ninety-nine steps
to the rising sun

through the window
of a ruined house,
September afterglow

-- Anatoly Kudryavitsky (Ireland)

{the last two haiku first published in Zilvervisje Glimt Anthology (Belgium)}

lost in thought
a breeze I can't feel
glows the embers

in the centre
of the merry-go-round
the fair-worker's scowl

despite
the black ties
the local accents

breaking up his song
the busker's
thanks

-- David Serjeant (England)

morning stillness
the beating of a bird’s wings
in the snow

sunrise after the storm
one golden apple left
on the bough

boat ride   laughter moves along

autumn breeze
willows paint the water
emerald green

-- Sharon Burrell (Ireland)

{the last two haiku first published in Zilvervisje Glimt Anthology (Belgium)}

scented air
a shell
without a snail

red dusk
the prison gate
opens shortly

-- Dietmar Tauchner (Austria)

bay horse entering
the clearing
entering the moon

morning rain
weeping under birch
a mare’s mane

-- Clare McCotter (Northern Ireland)

people pass by…
a dog
waiting for dog

old stud bull
looking for a weak spot
on the barbed wire fence

-- Ayaz Daryl Nielsen (USA)

in the water
under an old bridge
an old bicycle

harpsichord recital
I listen to
cracks in the walls

-- Owen Bullock (New Zealand)

autumn day
the toaster humming 
to nothing

honeycomb
honey and darkness stored
for the long winter

-- Noel Duffy (Ireland)

frogspawn
in a sun-dried pond –
speckled mud

cloud streaks
scarring the sky –
hounded wind howls

-- Tony Bailie (Ireland)

autumn wind
only papers along
the footpath

-- Dawn Bruce (Australia)

September moon          
russet leaves quiver
on the terraced slopes

-- Barbara A. Taylor (Australia)

coastal lagoon
a black swan glides     
between the reeds

-- Gavin Austin (Australia)

as we munch waffles
the roads of spider city
shimmer on the lawn

-- William Hart (USA)

cerulean sky
framed in the window
folded paper swan

-- Scott Owens (USA)

breaking
the broken branches
summer storm

-- Michael Morell (USA)

palomino sunset...
the inner life
of a lavender cactus

­-- Patrick Sweeney (USA/Japan)

street fiddler –
pigeons strut the cobbles
between tapping feet

-- Adelaide B. Shaw (USA)

winter silence –
sudden rustle of snow
sledding down the roof    

-- Craig Steele (USA)

the weight
of a peony…
summer rain

-- Nancy Nitrio (USA)

lemons floating –
lost in the forest,
last summer

-- Iain Maloney (Scotland/Japan)

spring thaw
morning sun drips
from icicles

-- Nika (Canada)

moonlit room
I wake up to the call
of a distant fox

­-- K. Ramesh (India)

in the rain forest,
the whistle of
a tree fall

-- Noel King (Ireland)

bush trees in bloom
flying fox sucks
the nectar

-- Maureen Purcell (Ireland)

gathering leaves –
curled up raindrops
splatter the deck

-- Maire Morrisey-Cummins (Ireland)

tree stump rings –
an LP with Vivaldi’s
'The Four Seasons'

-- L. Costa (Brazil)

midnight - 
a dog barks into
silence

-- Nana Fredua-Agyeman (Ghana)

noisy geese
crossing the lake
for greener grass

-- Johannes Bjerg (Denmark)

Translated Haiku

glimmer of silverside fish
in billowing water
a captured star

-- August Vermeylen (Belgium; transl. from the Flemish by Sharon Burrell)

silverside fish
through rippling water –
a star caught

-- August Vermeylen (Belgium; transl. from the Flemish by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)

sightseeing…
my camera
viewing the world

blades of grass bending
listening to what the earth
has to say

-- Jeanine Hoedemakers (the Netherlands; transl. from the Dutch by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)