
Shamrock Haiku Journal
Readers' Choice Awards
We invite all the readers of Shamrock Haiku Journal
to vote for the best haiku/senryu poem published in 2010, i.e. in the
issues THIRTEEN to SIXTEEN (you cannot vote for your own poem, though).
To
vote, send an e-mail to irishhaikusociety[at]hotmail.com with
"Best haiku of 2010" or "Best senryu of 2010" in the subject line.
Please insert the full text of the poem you vote for (only ONE poem in
each category) plus the name of its author in the body of your e-mail.
The deadline for vote is 28th February, 2011. The
best poems will be named in the next issue of Shamrock Haiku Journal.
Focus
on
Hungary
twilight
shadows –
frozen,
motionless…
broken
trees on their knees
rime
covering
the
deer-dream dawn –
silence
dripping from trees
--
Szilvia Auth
snail
in the sun
crawling
up and down
the
tinder fungus
--
Károlyiné Baka Gyöngyi
sailboat
tied
by a glittering
spider’s
thread
chestnut
petals
on
the windshield…
a
stowaway ladybird
--
Ferenc Bakos
black
bough
embraced
by a white slumber –
cherry
blossoms
--
József Balogh
rusty
chestnut –
the
summer swinging
on
the last leaf
--
Zoltán Csíkzsögödi Szabó
twilight
stars
on
a garden path, silvery
snail
trails
--
János Csokits
sunny
morning
bonsai
tree on my desk
has
tiny green leaves
--
Marcell Domonkos
empty
eye socket –
the
birdless autumn sky
staring
at me
--
Csaba Fecske
dew
washing
leaf ribs and
butterfly
wings
--
Miklós Fucskó
blue
tits nesting
in
this pillar-box –
don’t
drop a letter!
dewdrops
rolling
on
a young leaf –
morning
toilet
--
Katalin Harcos
New
Year day’s dawn –
among
rimy branches,
the
rising Sun
--
Ödön Horváth
summer
evening
weaving
a moonbeam blanket
for
this garden
--
Béla Jánky
an
arrow in the grove
showing
the direction
to
butterflies
--
János Kurszán Kántor
(first
published in Shamrock No 3)
young
tree
in
a small pot
reaching
out to the stars
--
János Karsai
yellow
chrysanthemum
watching
the full moon –
a
pumpkin lamp laughing
--
András Ferenc Kovács
lonely
night –
the
last firefly
brightens
its light
--
Vincze Lucskai
lemon
moon
my
teacup imbibes
the
dark
--
Hajnalka Sánta
elegant
sparrow
cleaning
his attire
with
the road dust
--
László Sárközi
empty
promise –
summer
rain tears hanging
on
the rainbow arch
--
Klára Siklósi Horváth
uninhabited
island
besieged
by waves –
the
music of mollusks
--
Sándor Szúnyogh
in
the wood,
red
leaves depicted
against
the leaden sky
--
Attila Török
in
the dusk,
an
icy outgrowth on the eaves –
a
ringing night ahead
--
József Utassy
the
sun’s wine –
drunken
reddish leaves lurch
towards
the ground
--
László Valyon
tiny
icy lace
hanging
from the green leaves –
Christmas
is here
outstretched
fingers
stroke
my face –
sycamore
leaf
late
autumn night
a
wild dance of leaves
above
the abyss
this
heart-shaped island
already
in bloom…
young
love
birds
singing,
the
pear-tree flowering:
gulash
soup on the simmer
--
Judith Vihar
(the
last piece first published in Shamrock No 3)
two
birds have flown away…
the
rustling branch
straightens
itself up
--
Sándor Weöres
(all haiku in the selection translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)

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


"Yellow Flowers" by Anonymous
(Hungary)

Haiku
Poets' Last Line of Defence
by
Anatoly Kudryavitsky
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:
Marko
Hudnik's self translations
|
My
versions
|
Published
versions marked 'translated by Marko Hudnik'
|
falling to the old
West the sun, on the east side
'nicht neues'
|
in the west, the
drooping sun
in the east,
'nothing new'
|
in the west, the
setting sun
in the east,
'nothing new'
|
howling no more
up to the moon
that village bitch
|
howling at the moon
no more
a village dog
|
howling at the moon
no more
a village dog
|
listening to
my steps, the forest's steps
through me
|
listening to my
steps...
the forest passes
through me
|
listening to my
steps...
the forest passes
through me
|
end of a chapter
mid the human tales
Silence of the Sea
|
end of a chapter –
between people's stories,
the silence of the sea
|
end of a chapter –
between people's stories,
the silence of the sea
|
close by the Hell
the first circle
of Heavens
|
so close to the
last circle
of Hell
the first
celestial sphere
|
so close to the
last circle of Hell
the first
celestial sphere
|
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)
Prize-winning
Haiku from the Irish Haiku Society Competition 2010
The
Irish Haiku Society is proud to announce the results of
the third IHS International Haiku Competition. This year we
saw a further increase in the number of
participating authors. 227 haiku by poets from eleven
countries (Ireland,
Scotland,
Wales, Northern
Ireland,
England, USA,
Australia,
Canada,
New
Zealand, Portugal
and Romania)
were submitted to this year’s competition in Category
A.
As
for Category B
open
only for participants born or residing on the island of Ireland, we
received 87 poems.
Poets submitting their works in this category were expected to write
about Ireland in the changing
world and include reflections upon or references to "what it means to
live in Ireland at the beginning of the 21st century". This year’s
competition was adjudicated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky, and it was judged blindly. The following is the
list of prize-winning and highly commended haiku in both categories.
Category
A
1st
Prize
Ernest
J. Berry (New Zealand) receives
the first prize of € 150 for the following haiku:
chill
wind
the windowsill tomato
still
warm
2nd
Prize