Shamrock
Haiku Journal
of the Irish Haiku Society
Editorial
Attenzione: Poets
Announcement
Shamrock
Haiku Journal Readers'
Choice Award
The
following piece by John Barlow (
fingerpost
a bee bumbles
through
nettles
The
runner-up was the
following haiku by Rose Hunter (
mid-morning sun
turning our
chairs
bit by bit
A
piece by Petar Tchouhov (
Father’s
Day
the
little girl wants
a
male doll
(First published in Shamrock
Haiku Journal No 4. Translated
by the author)
Many
congratulations to the
winners!
Focus on
In this
issue, we continue
publishing haiku from the Balkans. As our readers surely remember,
works by a
few haijin from
water has risen
the stork
suddenly legless
silent people
with flowers
cemetery
-- Tomislav Marjan
Bilosnić
(translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
all out!
wasps defending their nest
from an axeman
looking
out the window –
on
my
neighbour’s roof,
yellow
dandelion
-- Zlata Bogović (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
a
raindrop lands
on
my
palm –
full
moon
-- Borivoj Bukva (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
pretending
to be asleep,
a
little
girl falls
into
a
doze
-- Marijan Cekolj (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
look
at
this clover
with folded green petals –
it prays to Buddha!
under the hooves
of a king’s equestrian
statue,
twenty pigeons
hundreds cherry petals
covered by two
magnolia petals
-- Vladimir Devidé (transl. by the author and
Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
chirping crickets
wake up
the dawn
photographer falls –
what a nice picture
of
the sky!
hopping in the yard,
a few sparrows and
and
a breadcrumb
-- Dina Franin (translated by the
author and Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
Saturday cleaning –
the
on rose petals
New Year’s Day
falling snow
fills chestnut shells
twilight hour
a peacock folding up
his tail
desolate garden
a plum petal takes shelter
in an empty snail shell
-- Željko Funda (translated by
Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
farmyard –
bindweed tendrils patching
the old fence
-- Željko Funda (translated
by the author)
boathouse in autumn
canoes and kayaks
dreaming of oars
-- Anica Gečić (translated
by the author and Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
empty nest on the roof –
up aloft, two storks
battle
it out
storm wind
starting a spectacular
dance
of
snowflakes
-- Anica Gečić (translated
by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
on the virgin snow,
a squirrel’s trail
and
pieces of nutshell
--
Franjo Hrg (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
up the grass blade…
a tiny snail has started
on a journey
on the hill-slope,
a tractor ploughing
the
horizon
--
Ivan I. Ivanćan (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
night calm –
the boat rocking
a drowsy fisherman
--
Julija Ivić (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
spider’s
web –
no
hanging insects this morning,
only
dewdrops
-- Ivanka Glogović Klarić (transl. by the author
and
Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
empty medow
hay and its fragrance
taken away
sitting by the stove
my granny tells me stories
of
her granny
--
Dubravko Korbus (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
crickets
nowhere to be seen –
the
bark
of an olive tree,
chirping
shower has stopped –
the whole village
under
the rainbow
--
Zdravko Kurnik (transl. by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
summer evening –
tin soldiers sleeping
on
the mown grass
-- Vesna
Kurs (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
hoarfrost on the lawn –
a dog warms up his paws
with his breath
guarding the vineyards,
silent
summer houses
--
Timjana Mahećić (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
invisible
fruit-pickers –
their
song
wandering through the fog
from one patch of lettuce
to another…
a
glossy slug trail
despite
everything,
her dog wags its tail
when we meet
in
front of an inn
cows in
the lorry awaiting
the
driver drinking
hailstorm
over –
broken
flowers
exhale
fragrance
winter
moonlight –
shadows
of trees marking
a
path in
the wood
for
a
moment
white
butterfly has flown
into
the
dark tunnel
-- Tomislav Maretić (transl. by the
author and
Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
in the dusk –
a vanishing angler,
the glow of his cigarette
rainy street –
steps and voices,
fewer
and fewer
-- Duško Mataš (translated by DV
Rošić and Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
on a park bench,
a dry leaf
on its own
this old woman’s
straw hat –
flowers blossoming on it!
under the tower-clock
a man waiting
looking at his watch
--
Duško Mataš (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
low tide
boys playing
on
the seabed
--
Marija Marela Mimica (translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
girl
wielding a broom
sweeps
the courtyard,
dances with leaves
fragile
and fluffy,
sparkling with silver frost –
the
moonlit wire fence
so
pale,
this
sickle moon
above
the
glittering city
-- Ružica Mokos (transl. by the
author and Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
hanging
their heads
under
the
weight of rainwater,
first
snowdrops
tram doors open –
enter sparrows’
chirping
--
Ružica Mokos (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
walking across the
graveyard –
black marble
reflects me accurately
-- Ivan
Nadilo (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
blizzard again
snowflakes covering
the
postman’s footprints
reflection of the moon
gently rocking a boat…
midnight
hour
old grating
a spider web still catching
dewdrops
-- Boris Nazansky
(translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
snow gone
molehills
grow
higher
-- Zdenko Oreč (translated
by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
plum petals landing
– so carefully! –
in nettles
a woman sweeping leaves
from her husband’s grave
onto
another
-- Ivan Pahernik
(translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
windy day –
a broom and a bucket,
all
that’s left of a
snowman
summer storm
hurrying
the slug
-- Sanja
Petrov (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
a cow under
the apple-tree
gnawing on petals
--
Zvonko Petrovič (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
slowing down
with each passing day,
old neighbours’ footsteps
--
Dunja Pezelj (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
birds leaving this place
the autumn wind carries
along
a
nest
-- Ivo Posavec (translated
by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
cold morning –
from a passing car,
Eine
kleine Nachtmusik
-- Ljerka Postek Jalaca (translated by the author
and Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
out cycling,
I pedal on to catch up with
the setting sun
a boy at the puddle –
with his bucket he
scoops out the sun
-- Jasminka Predojević
(translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
spring in the city –
on the café table,
fresh artificial flowers
-- Zivko
Prodanović (transl. by the author and
Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
morning snowfall –
garlic in the kitchen
basket
sprouting up
starless night –
in one of the windows,
flickering candle-light
-- Vida Pust-Škrgulja (translated
by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
a bunch of ants
drinking sunshine
from a dewdrop
--
Vjekoslav Romich (transl. by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
old country road
two cows pulling a cart
uphill
-- Stjepan Rožić
(transl. by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
a butterfly fluttering
above the bridge –
a child stops crying
-- Mirko
Varga (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
southerly wind
causing strife
between
the boats
sunset –
winter waves rinsing
walkers’ shadows
early March –
scarecrow in the field
frightening snowflakes away
autumn sunset –
the wind takes away
the birch-tree’s golden tears
a hay-loft and a stable
resting against
each other
--
Djurdja Vukelić Rožić
(transl. by the author and Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
sliding across the harp
strings
of a weeping willow,
wind’s
fingers
empty seashell –
now
a raindrop’s home
--
Djurdja Vukelić Rožić
(transl. by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
morning
walk…
I touch a leaf –
it sighs and starts to
smell
narrowly missing each other
and the summer –
two girls roller-skating
summer lunchtime –
instead of a seagull,
a crow watches over the sea
sea-coast in autumn –
rippled water and
swaying tree-tops
autumn
–
between two skyscrapers,
a trembling apple-tree
-- Jadran Zalokar
(translated by Anatoly
Kudryavitsky)
lazy day –
stretching itself,
the grandpa’s couch
-- Božena
Zernec (translated by Anatoly Kudryavitsky)
Haiku
in Croatia
Djurdja
Vukelić Rožić
Haiku movement in
Europe has started at the beginning of the 20-th century.
Talking about Croatia, haiku were first published in this country much
later,
in early 1960s. The publication occurred in Split, and the haiku was
written by
Tonči Petrasov Marović. At approximately the same time haiku by
Dubravko
Ivančan of Krapina were published in Zagreb. By 1977 Croatia had its
first
magazine titled ‘Haiku' now regarded as the first of its kind in
Europe.
'Haiku' magazine was first edited by prof. Željko Funda and by Prof.
Zvonko
Petrović, both from Varaždin. It was comprised of short-form poetry
from the
countries of the former Socialist Federative Republic of Yugoslavia,
i.e.
Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Serbia and Macedonia. 'Haiku'
appeared
more or less irregularly, and the last issue of this magazine came out
in 2004.
Utterly surprising is the number of quality haiku poets in this country, the population of which, according to the 2004 census, is 4.5 million people. In modern-days Croatia there are approximately four hundred haiku poets. Croatian haijin have formed four haiku associations based in Samobor, Zagreb, Rijeka and Ivanić Grad. Croatian haiku associations and universities organise various haiku competitions, both nationally and internationally. Haiku contests are getting increasingly popular these years. Croatian haijin were the proud winners of quite a number of haiku awards for their haiku written in their own tongue. Translations of their work into English and Japanese were awarded many prestigious haiku prizes abroad, e.g. in such countries as Japan and the USA.Their works has been collected in many prestigious haiku anthologies, and appeared in such haiku magazines as “Vrabac/Sparrow”, “Haiku”, “Galeb” (these three haven't been in circulation for quite a few years) and the recently establihed “Iris”. There are also two Croatian websites publishing and promoting haiku: http://www.karolina-rijecka.com, and http://www.haiku.hr. Every year new poets try their hands at writing haiku. A few mainstream Croatian poets are also known to write haiku: to name but a few, Luko Paljetak, Enes Kišević, Pajo Kanižaj and the late Dragutin Tadijanović.
One of the most prominent haiku poets in Croatia is Prof. Vladimir Devidé, mathematician and Japanologist. We must point out his devotion to and his successful efforts in promoting the genre, as well as Japanese culture and literature in general, in his home country. His work as a haiku poets spanned a period of nearly half a century. Nearly every library in Croatia has his books on the shelves, and they are always in demand. All in all, he has published 19 books, including collections of haiku poetry, books on Japan and on Japanese culture. He has also published numerous essays on haiku in Croatian and foreign literary magazines, made numerous appearances on the national radio and television, lectured extensively throughout the country, and was always there for younger poets to help them master the haiku genre. It is difficult to overestimate his work as a magazine editor and as the organiser of haiku symposia and festivals, not to mention that he was the founder of several Croatian haiku associations. Croatian haiku movement owes him a lot.
Croatian haiku associations have been busy in the last couple of decades organising haiku meetings, gatherings and competitions. The latter offered prizes for haiku written in Croatian and in English, and sometimes even in a few dialects of the Croatian language, e.g. in the Kajkavian and Tschakavian Dialects. Annual haiku gatherings take place in Samobor (the latest was the sixteenth), in Ludbreg, in Krapina (named after the late Dubravko Ivančan), in Milna on Brač Island, and in Kloštar Ivanić (the latest was the sixth). Both the haiku contest in Kloštar Ivanić and the Ludbreg Calendar Rokovnik are international haiku contests offering prizes for haiku written in English. On each occasion the organisers publish booklets containing the award-winning haiku.
The introduction of
the Internet in 1990's
helped haiku to take roots in Croatia. Unforunatelly, quite a number of
Croatian poets still don't own a personal computer. Those who
are active
on the web exchange information on a regular basis, and share their
work with
fellow haijin.
The Croatian language,as well as its dialects, has a structure somewhat
similar
to Japanese – at least, the number of syllables in Croatian words is
approximately
the same as the number of onji in
Japanese words. This
encourages Croatian
haiku writers to use similar metric structures. Also, Croatian
climate is
very much like that of Japan. Both countries have four seasons, with
distinctive differences between them. Jim Kacian once suggested that
one of the
probable reasons for Croatia having quite a number of quality haiku
poets is
the local lifestyle: many of the Croats still live in small towns and
villages,
and they remain quite close to nature throughout their lives. Many of
those who
are based in big cities have also holiday homes in a rural area. Scenic
landscapes and the ever-changing Adriatic Sea can also account for the
desire
of Croatian poets to write about our beautiful country.
Djurdja Vukelić Rožić is a m
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As our
readers will surely notice, we publish in this section a few
haiku/senryu by
new Irish haiku poets: Sharon Burrell, Sean Donegan, Susan Kelly,
Robert
Naczas, Andrew Michael O’Brien. For most of them, as well as for our
renowned
writer and editor Pat Boran, this is the first publication in an
international
haiku periodical. We wish the poets the best of luck on their haiku-no-michi, i.e. on the haiku path!
first
bleak day –
passing in
parallel
wakes of geese
step by toddler step –
the
intimacy
of pebbles
suddenly a leaf
still on the willow twig
turns kingfisher
-- Diana
Webb (England)
hedge –
new shoots
out of
line
cattle
train…
the
underground station
smells of
grass
box of
fabric –
sorting my
past
intentions
-- Quendryth Young (Australia)
early
autumn
the conductor too
coughs
between movements
melting
ice
a black crow has perched
on the lifebuoy
early
spring
giggles from an iPod
in the lecture room
-- Lars
Vargo (Sweden)
geese in
formation
over the
Dart line
housemartins
nesting
in our
balcony
depth of
winter –
a train’s
headlights glowing
in the
half-light
--
Sharon Burrell (Ireland)
ebbing
tide –
the
sandcastle
re-sculpted
clearing
sky
pattern of
pine needles
where a
puddle was
--
Nathalie Buckland (Australia)
rainstorm –
roof leaks
water
music
leafless
trees –
a
one-legged man
swinging
between sticks
-- Hugh
O’Donnell (Ireland)
she closes
her eyes
to bite the apple –
autumn
breeze
hazy day –
an old
man
studies his palm
--
Philip Miller (USA)
water-logged
field
the horses’ new companions
seabirds
antique
salesman
his wad of
notes
smells
musty
--
Richard J. Turner (England)
spring
morning
the calf’s
slobber
catches
sunlight
in the last
of the light a hoopoe’s crest
--
Robert Lucky (USA)
arctic
winds…
the chimney
bubbles over
arctic winds…
a homeless man
walks past
the shelter
--
Charlotte Digregorio (USA)
an
unsought shovel –
it
newlyweds
the first
snowfall
woman
at
the wrong stop
waiting
for
her bus
-- Ayaz
Daryl
Nielsen (USA)
parched
fields
a purple
peak stabbing
the
clouded sky
plummeting
in a spiral flap
of
flightless wings,
new-born
chicks
-- Susan
Kelly
(Ireland)
sinking in
the bog,
the roof
of a rusting car...
fragile
fontanelle
children's
playground
with its
solitary swing
measuring the time
-- Sean
Donegan (Ireland)
dream of a
sparrow morning
-- Pat
Boran
(Ireland)
shroud of
mist
night enters the shack
through a skylight
--
Gautam Nadkarni (India)
robin
hops across the grass
on its shadow
-- Greg
Schwartz (USA)
late March
–
in each
window
a
different season
--
Robert Naczas (Ireland/Poland)
named
after
an Egyptian pharaoh,
this playful cat
--
Michael Andrew O’Brien (Ireland)
singer on
the stage
dancing
with
his shadow
-- John
Tiong Chunghoo (Malaysia)
dad’s
bread…
another
grey hair
in the mix
-- Helen Buckingham (England)
---------------------------<->----------------------------
Day after Christmas
by Roberta Beary (USA)
We are at
the mother of all sales, scrunched up against the hats, the no-good,
the bad
and the downright ugly. Try this one, she orders, and this, and this.
There is
no room to move, let alone try something on. With stone face,
I lift my
hands and obey. She is, after all, my big sister. Buy the red one, she
points,
yelling for all to hear, it makes your nose look less big.
snow-mush
my neighbor's tree kicked
to the curb
Landmark
by Roberta Beary (USA)
the cute
redhead talks like this – dad walked out? when i was
five? and
might come back? even though it's a long shot?
and the old guy next
to her leans over and asks why mom gave him up but kept his sister
and a nerdy college kid mumbles
about finding his
father passed out on the kitchen floor the cigarette
burning in his
hand and i tell anyone who'll listen the first drink was poured here
100 years
before i was born.
a slight wobble
in the high wire…
winter crows
---------------------------<->----------------------------