Хайкушный бред на русском и англ. яз

(Русское рэнку именитых соавторов внутри англ. текста.)


На заставке план моего околотка, где уже не высится, но ещё не полностью превратилась в груду камней мамлюкская руина, ровесница Москвы. В одном из прямоугольничков я и засыпаю в изнеможении от полдневного  зноя. А если удастся не заснуть, то как бы испражняюсь текстами.


Recollections of the Haijin Gathering in Constanza

From the very first moments in Romania I felt that I was immersed in the surreal movie of my own making.
The sleepless night on the plane surely helped.
The ride on the train through the Wallachian Plain, crossing the two Danubes into Moesia or Scythia Minor (Dobruja) where the Christianized Slavs, the Islamized Turks and the Aromanians of the Holy Empire met each other and the Greek was like a Thalassian song. And the one continuous song it did become! I listened to the folk music day and night. I beat a record by keeping the radio on for 13 hours of the non-stop melodies born in the Carpathian Mountains, Moldova and along the mighty Danube.
I was musing on my fifty years old memory of Siget which I saw from the Soviet train chugging along the very border in the Ukraine on its way to Uzhgorod.
I saw a Romanian peasant walking in the Romanian field and this picture got etched in my memory.
I did not know that the Transylvanian town of Siget was a birthplace of Elie Wiesel, our Nobel Prize winner, whose lectures full jf insights and wit  I attended in Boston University. I had a scant picture of the tragedy decimating his family and many other Jews in Transnistria and Bessarabia. Even when I lived as a small boy in between the estuaries of the Prut and the Dniester and some Jews were still residing in my Budzhak the entire scope of displacement and death was kept in secret from me. Ten years ago we took a bus to Galati when I discovered—accidentally—a large Jewish compound (a school, a synagogue...) eerily empty and securely fenced. When we crossed the river into the Moldavian Republic and then into the Ukrainian part of Bessarabia to reach the former German town with a French name Arciz, we met the amazing people, including Russian poets, Bulgarian locals, surviving Gypsies and the half destroyed Jewish cemetery with a new church and its access road nearby.

Branesti Station
behind the bright green fields
the layered  horizon

But let's return to Tomis Constantiana where from the very first day we got immersed into the many simultaneous eddies and currents of the haiku festival based at the spacious and echoing halls of the Ovidius University.

The Black Sea springtime:
the trees bloom with
the tattered plastic bags

We were greeted by the administration and stuff powered by the perpetuum mobile of Laura Vaceanu and her helpers and enablers (Nastasia Savin, Ion Codrescu and Olga Dutu).
There was a torrent of people, books and speeches.
I got impressed by the critical  point of view by Florin Grigoriu (the troubling semblance of many published haiku), the cameo appearance of Marius Chelaru and the presence of Alexandra Flora Munteanu translating  the texts of Romanian authors.
Clelia Ifrim showed her interesting work along with Adina Enachescu and Victoria Fonaru.
Our own Paul Mercken showed the achievements of the Dutch haiku and Susanna Patras demonstrated the fusion of images and haikai.
I presented the renku composed with the famous poets in the English language.
I also showed the renku by the well known Russian authors.
The crux of my message was the merger of the mainstream poetry and the haiku writing.
The columns and sequences of haiku and/or senryu are  a further approximation of the poems containing many stanzas.

Here is a three stanza haiku sequence published in the Nor'Easter Magazine:

snowing so slowly...
my mother should've shown up
in my night dream

snowed in again!
My daughter has texted
“this conversation is over”

snow's sublimated—
my grandaughter silent
since the last thaw

I encountered similar poems in the leading magazines. Poets employ three liners but do not stress their haikuish nature. “Haiku” is a pariah word for many editors.
I tried to convince our haijin to write long poems as well
and gave some tools how to do it using the templates of outstanding writers. Their penmanship had been deemed exemplary by many and thus could serve as a teaching tool and the emulation eidos. It requires reading and rereading and a technique of seeing your own agenda through the melody and geometric patterns of the esteemed masters.
Pearl Elizabeth May of Great Britain gave a good account of her work with the challenged people and I did not miss the opportunity to stress my vision of haiga which correlates with Ion Codrescu's theory.
Our field days in the town of Ovidiu, Istria and Adamclisi complete with monasteries were spectacular.
The concert was out of this world.

Sleeping seagulls
only they outline the waves
of the invisible sea

I watched the Moldovan dances and listened to Carpathian folk music almost around the clock.
On occasion, predicted by an eager cab driver at the station square, I was gently bitten by a dog and I was mightily helped by other poets to overcome this snag.

Flowering dogweed
the day of departure
flowering dogweed


RENKU BEYOND THE SMALL POND

During my travel in time and space I have met many poets including the highly decorated ones.
I approached some of them suggesting to take part in my project of writing together according to the rules and rituals  developed by Japanese haijin and adjusted by American aficionados of the renku subgenre.
The following one includes the lines by a bunch of Nobel Prize winners and a dozen of widely published authors and celebrities.

ON THE ROAD TO SPRINGTIME
 
 Renku (Japanese linked verse genre) which has been written and sequenced at Harvard University and Longfellow House Museum in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
 
1.Philip Levin
 
             factory smoke-
             after autumn rain
             you may see mountains
 
2.Seamus Heaney
 
 weather?
 bother
 
3. Maestro Levin
 
November moon-
I feel myself as a kid
in a china shop
 
4.Billy Collins
 
      write about a house pet
      and it gets quickly moist
 
       5.  Derek Wolcott
 
     Brodsky?
     I miss him a lot
     I miss him a lot
 
6.Franz Wright
 
      those learned to love in childhood…
      the madness of his loneliness blessed 
 
7.Robert Bly
 
            this book published
hundreds years ago-
I look for my name
 
 8. Wole Soyinka
 
incantations…doctors scoff
at the poetry of healing
 
      9.   Galway Kinnell
 
     reading under the tree…
     a great day of this summer
     as summers used to be
 
10.Morris Errol
 
I only like abusive questions!
Please be cruel on this hot day
 
      11.  Maxine Kumin
 
you may see:
they are having a talk,
my horses, not sheep
 
12.Robert  Brustein
 
theater critics know the way
but they cannot drive
       
13.Michio  Kushi
 
              everlasting thoughts
of food and love-
              merging dreams
 
 
14.Brother Blue
 
silver-footed queen:
all universe sings its carol
 
     15.  Alan Dershowitz
 
I really like
when snow is falling,
not its piles on the ground
 
 
16.Daniel Schorr
 
        what I see over horizon
becomes very, very dim 
 
 
17. Richard Wilbur
 
              and the rest of this verse
leads to the disappearance
of this “we”
 
18.Honor Moore
 
      spring,  finally spring
      with its hot green
 
19.Keiko Higuchi
 
petal rain…
unforgivable sins
become just okay
 
20.Zinovy  Vayman
 
June…Siberian swans
             overstay in Japan

 
summer 2004-summer 2007

One can find the above renku on the site of Haiku Foundation run by Jim Kacian and his cohort.

This collective effort of composing renku was teletransported to Russia, mainly to Moscow where the poetry scene is very lively.

Нидзюин рэнку «Имена»

Много лет тому назад в журнале «Арион» было опубликовано моё соло рэнку, также о 20 стансах.
Традиционно, рэнку пишут много авторов, собирающихся вместе или переговаривающихся с помощью телефона и интернета.
Эта секвенция, выполненная с соблюдением многих правил (времена года, появление луны, цветов, любовных чувств, et cetera) скомпонована путём личных интервью и частных разговоров.


1

белая ночь
сведут трамвайный мост,
он крупно вздрогнет               
                Иосиф Бродский

2


тишь да гладь, благодать,
а ещё земляника               
                Александр Есенин-Вольпин

3


лежу, будто сплю:
с груди моей взлетают
блестящие мушки
                Михаил Файнерман


4


трёхдольный, вольный
легковейный... ах, менуэт

                Елизавета Мнацаканова

5


трухлявый каштан:
в лунном свете
снова нержавые листья
                Михаил Крепс

6

пока мы живы,
мы бессмертны, mon amour

                Кира Сапгир

7

ода осени:
это так,
небольшая стилизация

                Владимир Гандельсман

8


ба, зелёная гречка!
вот мы её и пожарим
                Наум Коржавин


9

Седых душил нас...
я пошёл к Трубецким,
а не к Шульманам

                Сергей Довлатов

10

в девяностых
я пела только Ахматову,
Северянина
                Злата Раздолина


11

Гарвард, уинтер-зима,
тёплый приём,
луна-то китайская

                Дм. Пригов
12

слежавшееся сено;
как же едят его кони?

                Александра Петрова



13

.....................
…..............................
я американец
                Алексей Цветков



14
вы тут сидите,
а он напряжённо
готовит фуршет
                Евгений Бунимович



15

в Париже
ещё нет холодов
здесь нам купили куртку

                Елена Шварц


               
16
не знаю почему, но               
олигархам нравится
                Вера Павлова

17

звуки Лермонтова
небеснее Пушкина.
Ничего не поделаешь
                Дм. Быков


18
замечательные люди—
творцы Пражской весны
                Евгений Евтушенко


19
уже в феврале
фиалки рвались
к тебе
                Ира Новицкая
20

на ближнем зарубежье
разливы русских рек
                Зyc Вайман



The above renku authors feature only one Nobel Prize laureate, yet many famous poets.  One contributor is a popular singer.


It is very difficult to translate the highly idiomatic renku into English and, I guess, into Romanian but we have no choice.

The following renku was composed in Niigata, Japan. It is a united undertaking by the native Japanese speakers, English majors and a student of English.

Darjeeling Tea Renku

Kay Higuchi;

mountain of red leaves
here you are
climbing it like a bear               

John Ziemba;

morning after lightning
blue asters emerge               

Hidenori Yamanishi;

in jet black
gently glowing
autumn moon   

Zinovy Vayman;

retro music on radio
my father and mother waltzing

Kay Higuchi;

she keeps
making the griddle cakes
perfectly round

Hidenori Yamanishi ;

on our day off
you make the Darjeeling tea

John Ziemba;

books on the bookshelf
slightly out of order
first anniversary

Zinovy Vayman;

autostereogram
I try to catch the 3D image

Kay Higuchi;

snow storm coming
our meeting place
closes its doors

Hidenori Yamanishi;

riding a troika
I remember her illusion

Thomas Сorso;

famous film festival
she asks me
for a second bag of popcorn

Simon Schattner;

strange dewdrops
on my tear-heart

Allan Bowhill;

Glass cup
Smashed on the floor
It loves to fall

Anatol “Antelope” Zukerman;

Trotsky the cat catches a bird
puts it at my bare feet

Michael Shtalman;

summer moon
any future reference to it
“liberal” property

Richard Moore;

vine climbs over tree
crowding its leaves, strangling

Victor Howes;

I can’t help you
should you drop into the quarry
I grow weary

Patricia Brodie;

the sky pulses with spring glow
I try my best with my doomed friend

Adnan Adam Onart;

early May night
unexpectedly frosty…
I give you birth

Lary Smith;

everywhere the cove blooms
in primary colors

Niigata-Boston-Cambridge (Harvard), 2004
The above renku travelled from Japan and was continued by the members of the New England Poetry Club founded by the elite American poets like Robert Frost and Lowell.
Thus, it has been shown that we can extricate renku writing from the small circles of dillettantes and professionals and introduce the so called mainstream poets to the craft of renku. We haikuists also can walk the bridge into the realm of longer poetry and, also, prose.

During talk I am going to elaborate more on the renku writing beyond our small ponds of haiku writing.

12 stanza renku in Constanza, June 2007
 
1.            karate wind                                               7.     pine needles thrust
            I forget the June breeze                                          into my cheeks—  
            for a while                                 kh                   the snow heals them              lv
 
2.            new books, old notebooks...                        8.     painting countryside’s trees:
            the spots of cherry juice will linger     dr          for denuded lawn ”burnt Siena”   ss
 
 
3.            harvest moon                                             9.    shaking of cigarette ash       
            when will the stray dog                                    onto the silver tray—
            find its home?                             dt                  the sound of horologe                    sc
 
4.            my neighbor woman’s steps                     10.   Histria’s Pax Romana    
            she brings me young wine                           the stork stands on its high nest     db
 
5.            his suggestion—                                          11.   between ancient walls  
            some sitting around;                                   and the single track railway
            hers—getting laid                            ni                 field of poppies                      
 
6.            let’s have a shogunate,                                  12.  …new country’s old border
            not emperor family’s power          am                     the contraband nectar     zv
 
     dr       Dumitru Radu
     dt       Dietmar Tauchner
     ni       Nina Ivanovna
     am       Alexandra Flora Munteanu
     lv       Laura Vaceanu
     kh       Kay Higuchi
     zv       Zus Vayman

Not only we, haijin, are highly capable of longer poems but the highly decorated poets in mainstream can learn a thing or two from the haiku writers, big and small.