legs grow
and legs get tired
autumn ghost
足生えて足が疲れる秋の幽霊
could this be you?
the ghost
weeping at dawn
これが君なるか払暁の泣き幽霊
death registry:
evening flowers morning flowers
noon flowers!
点鬼簿の夕顔朝顔昼顔よ
Note: lit. “evening face, morning face, afternoon face” — these are the Japanese names of flowers: moonflower, morning glory, and bindweed, respectively.
in Tohoku–
long ago I came across
a ghost with kids
東北やむかし出会ひし子持ち幽霊
lonely ghosts
coming out
of the walls
淋しい幽霊いくつも壁を抜けるなり
do ghosts
get depressed, too?
standing under an umbrella
幽霊も鬱なるか傘さして立つ
lying down and looking up
at the underside of the bridge
early spring
橋裏を見上げ寝ころぶ春きさらぎ
February ends
as I gently pat the head
of the grave
二月尽く墓の頭を撫でながら
a spring day
stretching out–
over the grave
春の日が渡りてゆくや墓の上
cloudy May
white birds
taking flight
曇りたる五月は白し鳥が翔つ
how many deceased
utterly forgotten
summer approaches
忘れてしまふ故人いくたり夏来る
as silent as
blue skies, lapis lazuli,
and shadows
こんな静かな青空と瑠璃とかげ
cedar mountain–
the cedars turn black
with morning clouds
杉山や杉黒くして朝ぐもり
the stone walls
quietly burn
my shadow rising
石垣はしづかに灼けて我が立つ影
water sparkling
in the distance
late summer
遠くにて水の輝く晩夏かな
when autumn comes
the ocean’s rough waves
shake the darkness
秋来ぬと海の荒闇ひびくかな
moonlight:
the voice of autumn
in the shape of a mountain
月明の山のかたちの秋の声
stumps dug up
and thrown into a pile
autumn after rain
切株は掘られて積まれ雨後の秋
clear day
stepping on
dead things
晴れし日の枯れたるものを踏んでゆく
a cold sunset
gets up
on my lap
膝の上に寒き日暮が来てゐるなり
after the cold winter blast
a silent man
withered
凩のあとはしづかな人枯らし
fifty years
sisters grinding the mortar
in a withered field
五十年臼碾く姉妹ゐて枯原
snowing
a voice crying softly
in the dark
雪降る闇のしづかに泣いてゐる声かな
snowy day:
climbing and climbing
the ladder
雪の日の梯子をのぼり昇りゆく
a ghostly
white ship passes
large snowflakes
まぼろしの白き船ゆく牡丹雪
carved in stone
a face abandoned
in the field
石に彫り野に捨てておく顔ひとつ
church steeple
the darkness of human speech
looks up at it
尖塔を人語の闇が仰ぐなり
I hear a voice
crying “endless”
a nameless bird
「果てなし」と鳴く声きこえて名無しの鳥
sleeping in the water staring at stones
水中に寝てゐる石を見てゐるなり
going down
and down the long slope
it’s nothing
長き坂くだりくだりて何もなし
graveyard–
under the grave
is a small jar
墓原や墓の下には小さき壺
Semio Yamakawa (1923-1983) was one pen name/alter ego (of many) of Shigenobu Takayanagi, used when he wrote single-line haiku during haiku gatherings — these poems were collected together and published in The Collected Haiku of Semio Yamakawa (1980). He seems to have mostly written haiku under the name Jushin (じゅうしん), instead, and he was held up as a leading avant-garde haiku poet (alongside Tohta Kaneko) because he advocated and practiced writing haiku in three or four lines (as opposed to the traditional single line). He was also married to haiku poet Sonoko Nakamura (1913-2001).
He first discovered haiku in elementary school, and he published two haiku in his father’s magazine in 1936 (at the age of 13). In 1940, he entered Waseda University to study law, and while there, he joined the haiku group, which had its own journal, Mutsuki. However, he left the group because he didn’t agree with their “patriotic haiku column”; he intended to start a new group and journal, but the war postponed this until 1942, when he released the first issue of Waseda University Haiku. He graduated later that year but contracted pulmonary tuberculosis.
In 1947, he published “Proposition” and started publishing his haiku for the first time in the multi-line format along with a few of his contemporaries. The next year, he launched the magazine Mourning Flag (弔旗) with some of his friends, and in 1950, he published his first book of haiku, Butterbur Sprouts (蕗子). The title, “Fukinoko,” is also the name “Fukiko,” the name of his first daughter, born in 1953 (with his first wife, Atsuko Yamamoto). In addition to getting married and having a child, he also joined the Gendai Haiku Association in 1953.
In 1958, after divorcing Atsuko, he married Sonoko Nakamura, whom he invited to be part of his new magazine, Haiku Criticism (俳句評論). Throughout his life, Takayanagi published many different books under many different names. On July 7th, 1983, he was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver, and he was rushed to the hospital the following day after a varicose vein burst. He died on July 8th, 1983. Haiku Criticism would close with a special issue at the end of 1983, celebrating its 200th issue as an in memoriam for Takayanagi.
Sources:
Yamakawa’s ghost haiku from: https://fuco0104.jugem.jp/?eid=85
All other poems: http://leonocusto.blog66.fc2.com/blog-entry-514.html
Biographical information: https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E9%AB%98%E6%9F%B3%E9%87%8D%E4%BF%A1
Entry No. 1 