Hokku about separation. haiku about love

Japanese love poems are distinguished by amazing penetration into the depths of the soul and romantic awe. They belong to literary genre which is called a tank. The love lyre of Japan is permeated with the subtlety of human feelings and sensuality, full of bright romantic images and wise thoughts. Tanka is life itself, the highest manifestation of which is Love, which at the moment of its peak makes life close to perfection. No one remains indifferent to tanka, because it touches the deepest strings of the soul of each of us ... One of the main genres of Japanese poetry is Haiku (haiku). These are poems composed of short phrases, three lines long. In Japan, the haiku genre personifies the eternal inseparable connection between man and nature. There are rules for writing haiku that cannot be broken. The first line should consist of five syllables, the second of seven, the third, like the first, of five. In total, haiku should consist of 17 syllables. In Russian haiku these exact rules are ignored. In this section you will find the most beautiful japanese love poems for a man.

One of the main genres of Japanese poetry is Hokku (haiku). These are poems composed of short phrases, three lines long. In Japan, the haiku genre personifies the eternal inseparable connection between man and nature. There are rules for writing haiku that cannot be broken. The first line should consist of five syllables, the second of seven, the third, like the first, of five.

In total, haiku should consist of 17 syllables. In Russian haiku, these exact rules are ignored.

Haiku about love and passion Remember! Love is like bonsai, choose between them.

*** From the hot day of kisses Hide in the shade of the forest. In the evening, caresses are more tender! *** The sun gently touched Fuji... Learn from him, lover!

*** The balance will not be disturbed The opponent's blood is on the edge! In the palm of your hand is a tear of your beloved. *** The islands embrace the waters, My ship of the sea embraced, But the beloved hugs are tighter! *** Scarlet Lily Drops leaves, Like a lover of a dress ...

*** The moon kisses the constellation Virgo, The cloud will hide their caresses...

*** The old willow by the river washed her hair-branches... And the nightingale fell in love! Written by Hatori Haso. Translation by D. Rumat.

*** Russian haiku about love

Why so many words? I'll whisper your name and everything is said.

* * * What is separation? Through passers-by a wandering shadow It is not known where.

* * * When they answer, From happiness I scream silently. Can you hear me.

* * * Silence lulled the forest. The silent sky at night Awakened the soul.

* * * Where does the teardrop come from? I've been looking for your offender for a long time, Avoiding mirrors.

* * * He who avoids love Does not let his cold heart warm.

* * * Sad stars Wink at lovers For thousands of years.

* * * Amputation of memory Did not cure melancholy. Better love injections.

* * * Has the moth burned out? But more importantly, he decided to fly into the light.

* * * Even in winter Your glance throws me into the heat.

* * * The mail of love Protected the heart From the blades of anger. * * * Seeker of wisdom Helps not to get lost Lantern of love. * * *From the quagmire of vanity Love draws us out. And throws into the pool.

* * * Know how to leave. Do not trample on the ashes of decayed feelings.

* * * I hug the pillow. Heart knocked on whiskey, Sweet banishing sleep.

* * * If you do not swim In the whirlpool of feelings? Darkness of madness.

* * * Not knowing the future Trust yourself to your loved one. The courage of a woman.

* * * Passion flame Inflate - madness. Extinguish - death.

* * * A drop of blood Written a few lines. And the pain receded.

* * * The cold of eternity? Firewood still crackles In the fire of feelings.

*** © All rights reserved.

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One of the main genres of Japanese poetry is haiku. Tse verses, folded from short phrases, long in three rows. In Japan, the Hokku genre is personified by the eternal inexpressible language of human nature. Learn the rules for writing haiku, which cannot be broken. Of course, in the zone of love and relationships - in the southwest, or in the bedroom, where the hieroglyphs of love will bring the maximum effect. As we have already told you in the material Feng Shui of love - we attract love, that the concepts of love, family happiness, harmonious relationships play a very important role in the theory October 30, 2014 | "Diets" The Chinese diet is a rather rigid method of losing weight. It can be attributed to low-calorie diets, but despite all this, it is quite intense. The Chinese diet lasts for three weeks. During the first two weeks there is an active decrease excess weight, well, the third week has a fixing function, it is needed October 27, 2014 | "Diets" The cabbage diet is quite interesting, but at the same time effective way how to lose weight. During the diet, you can lose up to 4-5 kilograms. Probably, few people now know that before potatoes were brought to Russia, cabbage was called the “second bread”. Cabbage in those ancient times The language of flowers. There is a Greek legend about how the rose became the symbol of love. The goddess of love Aphrodite, hurrying on a date with her beloved, injured her leg on the thorns of white roses. Drenched in the blood of the goddess, the white petals turned scarlet. Since then, red roses have been a symbol of love and passion. This flower has been known to mankind for more than 35 million

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Don't imitate me too much!
Look, what's the use of such a resemblance?
Two halves of a melon. For students

I want at least once
Go to the market on holidays
Buy tobacco

"Autumn has already arrived!"
The wind whispered in my ear
Creeping up to my pillow.

One hundred times more noble
Who does not say at the flash of lightning:
"This is our life!"

All the worries, all the sadness
Of my troubled heart
Give it to the flexible willow.

What freshness blows
From this melon in drops of dew,
With sticky wet earth!

In the garden where the irises opened,
Chat with an old friend,
What a reward for a traveler!

Cold mountain spring.
I did not have time to scoop up a handful of water,
How the teeth are already broken

Here's a connoisseur's quirk!
On a flower without fragrance
The moth dropped.

Come on, friends!
Let's go wandering through the first snow,
Until we fall off our feet.

Evening bindweed
I'm captured... Still
I am in oblivion.

Frost hid him
The wind makes his bed...
Abandoned child.

There is such a moon in the sky
Like a tree cut down at the root:
White fresh cut.

The yellow leaf floats.
Which coast, cicada,
Do you suddenly wake up?

How the river overflowed!
The heron wanders on short legs
Knee-deep in water.

Like a banana moaning in the wind,
How drops fall into a tub,
I hear all night long. In a thatched hut

Willow leaned over and sleeps.
And it seems to me, a nightingale on a branch ...
This is her soul.

Top-top is my horse.
I see myself in the picture -
In the expanse of summer meadows.

You hear suddenly "shorch-shorch".
Sadness stirs in my heart...
Bamboo on a frosty night.

Butterflies flying
Wakes up a quiet meadow
In the rays of the sun

How the autumn wind whistles!
Then only understand my poems,
When you spend the night in the field.

And I want to live in autumn
To this butterfly: drinks hastily
Dew from the chrysanthemum.

Flowers withered.
Seeds are falling, falling
Like tears...

gusty sheet
Hid in a bamboo grove
And gradually calmed down.

Take a close look!
Shepherd's purse flowers
You will see under the fence.

Oh, wake up, wake up!
Become my friend
Sleeping moth!

They fly to the ground
Going back to old roots...
Separation of flowers! In memory of a friend

Old pond.
The frog jumped into the water.
A surge in silence.

Autumn Moon Festival.
Around the pond and around again
All night long!

That's all I'm rich in!
Light as my life
Pumpkin gourd. Grain storage jug

First snow in the morning.
He barely covered
Narcissus leaves.

The water is so cold!
Seagull can't sleep
Ride on the wave.

The pitcher burst with a crash:
At night, the water in it froze.
I woke up suddenly.

Moon or morning snow...
Admiring the beautiful, I lived as I wanted.
This is how I end the year.

Clouds of cherry blossoms!
The ringing of the bells floated ... From Ueno
Or Asakusa?

In a flower cup
A bumblebee is napping. Don't touch him
Sparrow friend!

Stork nest in the wind.
And under it - beyond the storm -
Cherries are a calm color.

Long day to fly
Sings - and does not get drunk
Lark in spring.

Over the expanse of fields -
Not tied to the ground
The lark calls.

May rains pour down.
What is it? Has the rim burst on the barrel?
The sound of an obscure night ...

Pure spring!
Up ran down my leg
Little crab.

It's been a clear day.
But where do the drops come from?
A patch of clouds in the sky.

As if taken in hand
Lightning when in the dark
You lit a candle. In praise of the poet Rick

How fast the moon flies!
On fixed branches
Drops of rain hung.

important steps
Heron on fresh stubble.
Autumn in the village.

Dropped for a moment
Threshing rice peasant,
Looks at the moon.

In a glass of wine
Swallows, don't drop
Clay lump.

There used to be a castle here...
Let me be the first to tell about it
A spring flowing in an old well.

How thick the grass is in summer!
And only one-leaf
One single sheet.

Oh no ready
I can't find a comparison for you
Three day month!

hanging motionless
Dark cloud in the sky...
It can be seen that lightning is waiting.

Oh, how many of them are in the fields!
But everyone blooms in their own way -
This is the highest feat of a flower!

Wrapped his life
around the suspension bridge
This wild ivy.

Blanket for one.
And icy black
Winter night... Oh, sadness! Poet Rika mourns his wife

Spring is leaving.
The birds are crying. The eyes of fish
Full of tears.

The distant call of the cuckoo
Sounded right. After all, these days
The poets have moved.

A thin tongue of fire, -
The oil in the lamp has frozen.
Wake up... What sadness! in a foreign land

West East -
Everywhere the same trouble
The wind is still cold. To a friend who went to the West

Even White flower on the fence
Near the house where the mistress was gone,
Cold covered me. Orphaned friend

Broke off a branch
Wind running through the pines?
How cool is the splash of water!

Here in drunkenness
To fall asleep on these river stones,
Overgrown with cloves...

Get up off the ground again
Fading in the mist, chrysanthemums,
Crushed by heavy rain.

Pray for happy days!
On a winter plum tree
Be like your heart.

Visiting cherry blossoms
I have been neither more nor less -
Twenty happy days.

Under the shade of cherry blossoms
I'm like an old drama hero,
At night lay down to sleep.

Garden and mountain in the distance
Trembling, moving, entering
In a summer open house.

Driver! lead the horse
Over there, across the field!
There is a cuckoo singing.

May rains
The waterfall was buried -
Filled with water.

summer herbs
Where the heroes have disappeared
Like a dream. On the old battlefield

Islands... Islands...
And crushed into hundreds of fragments
Summer day sea.

What a blessing!
Cool green rice field...
The murmur of water...

Silence around.
Penetrate into the heart of the rocks
Voices of cicadas.

Gate of the Tide.
Washes the heron up to the chest
Cool sea.

Drying small perches
On the branches of a willow... What a coolness!
Fishing huts on the shore.

Wooden pestle.
Was he ever a willow
Was it a camellia?

Celebration of the meeting of two stars.
Even the night before is so different
For a normal night! On the eve of Tashibam holiday

Raging sea space!
Far away, to the island of Sado,
The Milky Way creeps.

With me under the same roof
Two girls... Hagi branches in bloom
And a lonely month In hotel

What does ripe rice smell like?
I was walking through the field, and suddenly -
To the right is the Gulf of Ariso.

Tremble, oh hill!
Autumn wind in the field -
My lonely moan. In front of the grave mound of the early deceased poet Isse

Red-red sun
In the desert distance ... But it freezes
Ruthless autumn wind.

Pines... Nice name!
Leaning towards the pines in the wind
Bushes and autumn grasses. A place called Sosenki

Musashi Plain around.
None will touch the cloud
Your travel hat.

Wet, walking in the rain
But this traveler is also worthy of a song,
Not only hagi in bloom.

O merciless rock!
Under this glorious helmet
Now the cricket is ringing.

Whiter than white rocks
On the slopes of the stone mountain
This autumn whirlwind!

Farewell verses
On the fan I wanted to write -
It broke in his hands. Breaking up with a friend

Where are you, moon, now?
Like a sunken bell
Hidden at the bottom of the sea. In Tsuruga Bay, where the bell once sank

Butterfly never
He won't be... Shaking in vain
Worm in the autumn wind.

A house in seclusion.
Moon ... Chrysanthemums ... In addition to them
A piece of a small field.

Cold rain without end.
This is how a chilled monkey looks,
As if asking for a straw cloak.

Winter night in the garden.
With a thin thread - and a month in the sky,
And cicadas barely audible ringing.

Nuns story
About the former service at the court ...
Deep snow all around. In a mountain village

Children, who is faster?
We'll catch up with the balls
Ice cereal. I play with children in the mountains

Tell me what for
Oh raven, to the bustling city
Are you flying from here?

How tender are the young leaves
Even here in the weeds
At the forgotten house.

Camellia petals...
Maybe the nightingale dropped
Flower hat?

Ivy leaves...
For some reason their smoky purple
He talks about the past.

Mossy gravestone.
Under it - is it in reality or in a dream? -
A voice whispers prayers.

Everything is spinning dragonfly ...
Can't get caught
For stalks of flexible grass.

Do not think with contempt:
"What small seeds!"
It's red pepper.

First left the grass...
Then he left the trees...
Lark flight.

The bell is silent in the distance,
But the scent of evening flowers
Its echo floats.

The cobwebs tremble a little.
fine strands of saiko grass
They tremble in the twilight.

dropping petals,
Suddenly spilled a handful of water
Camellia flower.

The stream is slightly visible.
Float through the thicket of bamboo
Camellia petals.

May rain is endless.
Mallows are reaching somewhere
Looking for the path of the sun.

Weak orange flavor.
Where?.. When?.. In what fields, cuckoo,
Did I hear your flying cry?

Falling down with a leaf...
No, look! Halfway
The firefly fluttered.

And who could say
Why do they have such a short life!
The silent sound of cicadas.

Fisherman's hut.
Messed up in a pile of shrimp
Lone cricket.

White hair fell.
Under my headboard
The cricket does not stop.

Ill go down goose
On the field on a cold night.
Sleep lonely on the way.

Even a wild boar
Will swirl, take away with it
This winter whirlwind of the field!

It's the end of autumn
But believe in the future
Green tangerine.

Portable hearth.
So, the heart of wanderings, and for you
There is no rest anywhere. At the road hotel

The cold came along the way.
At the bird's scarecrow, or something,
In debt to ask for sleeves?

Seaweed stalks.
The sand creaked on my teeth...
And I remembered that I was getting old.

Manzai came late
To a mountain village.
The plums are already blooming.

Why all of a sudden such laziness?
They just woke me up today...
Noisy spring rain.

sad me
Drink more sadness
Cuckoos distant call!

I clapped my hands.
And where the echo sounded
The summer moon is blazing.

A friend sent me a gift
Risu, and I invited him
Visit the moon itself. On a full moon night

deep antiquity
A breeze ... Garden near the temple
Covered with dead leaves.

So easy-easy
Came out - and in the cloud
The moon thought.

Quail scream.
It must be evening.
The eye of the hawk faded.

Together with the owner of the house
I listen silently to the evening bells.
Willow leaves are falling.

White fungus in the forest.
Some unfamiliar leaf
Sticking to his hat.

What sadness!
Suspended in a small cage
Captive cricket.

Night silence.
Just behind the picture on the wall
The cricket is ringing.

Glittering dewdrops.
But they have a taste of sadness,
Don't forget!

That's right, this cicada
Is it all out of foam? -
One shell remained.

Fallen leaves.
The whole world is one color.
Only the wind hums.

Rocks among cryptomeria!
How to sharpen their teeth
Winter cold wind!

Planted trees in the garden.
Quiet, quiet, to encourage them,
Whispering autumn rain.

So that a cold whirlwind
To drink the aroma, they opened again
Late autumn flowers.

Everything was covered in snow.
Lonely old woman
In the forest hut.

Ugly raven -
And he's beautiful on the first snow
On a winter morning!

Like soot sweeps away
Cryptomerium tops treplet
A rising storm.

Fish and birds
I don't envy anymore... I'll forget
All the sorrows of the year Under the new year

Nightingales sing everywhere.
There - behind the bamboo grove,
Here - in front of the river willow.

From branch to branch
Quietly running drops ...
Spring rain.

Through the hedge
How many times have they fluttered
Butterfly wings!

Closed her mouth tightly
Sea shell.
Unbearable heat!

Only the breeze dies -
Willow branch to branch
The butterfly will flutter.

The winter hearth is getting along.
How old the familiar stove-maker has aged!
Whitened strands of hair.

Year after year, the same
Monkey amuses the crowd
In a monkey mask.

Didn't take my hands off
Like a spring breeze
Settled in a green sprout. planting rice

Rain follows rain
And the heart is no longer disturbed
Sprouts in the rice fields.

Stayed and left
Bright moon... Remained
Table with four corners. In memory of the poet Tojun

First fungus!
Still, autumn dews,
He didn't count you.

perched a boy
On the saddle, and the horse is waiting.
Collect radish.

The duck crouched down on the ground.
Covered with a dress of wings
Your bare feet...

Sweep the soot.
For myself this time
The carpenter gets along well. Before New Year

O spring rain!
Streams run from the roof
Along wasp nests.

Under an open umbrella
I make my way through the branches.
Willows in the first fluff.

From the sky of their peaks
Only river willows
Still pouring rain.

Hillock next to the road.
To replace the extinguished rainbow -
Azaleas in the sunset light.

Lightning at night in darkness.
Lakes expanse of water
Sparks flared up suddenly.

Waves run across the lake.
Some regret the heat
Sunset clouds.

The ground is slipping from under your feet.
I grab onto a light ear ...
The moment of parting has come. Saying goodbye to friends

My whole life is on the way!
Like I'm digging up a little field
I wander back and forth.

transparent waterfall...
Fell into the light
Pine needle.

Hanging in the sun
Cloud ... Randomly on it -
Migratory birds.

Buckwheat did not ripen
But they treat the field in flowers
A guest in a mountain village.

End of autumn days.
Already raising his hands
Shell chestnut.

What do people eat there?
House stuck to the ground
Under the autumn willows.

Chrysanthemum scent...
In the temples of ancient Nara
Dark buddha statues.

Autumn mist
Broke and drives away
Friends conversation.

Oh this long way!
The autumn dusk is falling,
And not a soul around.

Why am I so strong
Did you smell old age this fall?
Clouds and birds.

Late autumn.
I'm alone thinking
"And how does my neighbor live?"

On the way, I fell ill.
And everything is running, circling my dream
Through the scorched fields. death song

* * *
Poems from travel diaries

Maybe my bones
The wind will whiten - It is in the heart
I breathed cold. Going on the road

You are sad, listening to the cry of the monkeys!
Do you know how a child cries
Abandoned in the autumn wind?

Moonless night. Darkness.
With millennial cryptomeria
Grabbed into an embrace whirlwind.

The ivy leaf is quivering.
In a small bamboo grove
The first storm rumbles.

You stand indestructible, pine tree!
And how many monks have lived here,
How many bindweeds have faded... In the garden of the old monastery

Drops dewdrops - current-current -
Source, as in previous years ...
Wash away the worldly dirt! The source sung by the Saigyo

Twilight over the sea.
Only screams wild ducks away
Blurred white.

Spring morning.
Over every nameless hill
Transparent haze.

I am walking along the mountain path.
Suddenly it became easy for me.
Violets in dense grass.

From the heart of a peony
The bee crawls slowly...
Oh, with what reluctance! Leaving a hospitable home

young horse
Chewing merrily ears of corn.
Rest on the way.

To the capital - there, far away -
Only half of the sky remains...
Snow clouds. On the mountain pass

Winter day sun
My shadow is freezing
On the horse's back.

She is only nine days old.
But they know both fields and mountains:
Spring has come again.

Cobwebs in the sky.
I see the image of the Buddha again
At the foot of the empty. Where the statue of Buddha once stood

Let's hit the road! I'll show you
Like cherry blossoms in distant Yoshino,
My old hat.

As soon as I got well,
Exhausted, until the night ...
And suddenly - wisteria flowers!

Soaring larks above
I sat down in the sky to rest -
On the crest of the pass.

Cherries at the waterfall...
For those who love good wine,
I'll take down the branch as a gift. Waterfall "Dragon Gate"

Like spring rain
Runs under a canopy of branches...
The spring softly whispers. Stream near the hut where Saigyo lived

Gone spring
In the distant harbor of Waka
I finally caught up.

On Buddha's birthday
He was born into the world
Little deer.

I saw before
In the rays of dawn the face of a fisherman,
And then - a blooming poppy.

Where it flies
The cry of the dawn cuckoo,
What's there? - A remote island.

Xi Jinping, Chairman of the People's Republic of China, speaking at a symposium dedicated to the 69th anniversary of the victory over the Japanese invaders during the World War, calling on Japan to take a more responsible approach to assessing...

Japanese haiku poetry about love: from history to the present

AT ancient culture In Japan, a significant place was occupied by various expressions of human nature, in the form of charming prose and poetry, which evokes quivering emotions and feelings. Japanese haiku poetry about love is precise, concise and sharp, like a snowflake melting on an infant's cheek or an old man's magical gaze.

Japanese poetry is attentive to detail, has a sharp ear and a keen eye. The poet sees more than a common person, he hears all the rustles of picturesque nature and the depth of human relationships.

Poems and life

The whole style of poetry of the Japanese people was formed in everyday life, on the basis of traditional life, great holidays, turning point battles, rituals and superstitions, the historical heritage of Japan. A special place in the life of the people of the country rising sun occupy the forces of mother nature and their divine principle.

There were many gods, and each was the inspiration of one of the elements: earth, water, fire and air. Natural life force filled many Japanese works, in the role of mountains, trees, rivers and lakes.

The first, inherited written monument of Japanese poetry « Manyoshu” (the second name is “A Collection of Myriad Leaves”) to today remains the standard of folk melos for contemporaries. Japanese poets traditionally compare the "word" with the leaves of trees and plants.

This collection expresses the embodiment of the culture of the Nara period, the brightest flowering of Buddhism and poetry. This era is named after Japan's first permanent capital. The exact period of the formation of "Manyoshu" is unknown, about a couple of decades of the 8th century.

"A collection of myriad leaves" includes 20 books, in which 4496 songs are filled with complex unity over four hundred years of the development of poetry ancient country. Historians note that the collection contains songs from the 5th to the 8th centuries.

Rules of versification

The first rules for the formation of the size of the verse, the foundations of poetic meaning and form are built on the basis of the anthology "Manyoshu". All forms are not strictly maintained here, but basic poetic methods are created depending on the number of verses, for example, nagauta, in translation "long song" is interpreted by an indefinite number of five- and seven-syllable verses.

The second classification of six lines is sadoka or "rowers' song", built according to the scheme of 5,7,7,5,7,7 syllables. And, of course, the popular five-line tank or a “short song”, where verses of 5,7,5,7,7 syllables change. Little tanka is one of the oldest poetic forms. Geniuses write in this style, these are the most prosaic, precise and great poems.

At the turn of the era, at the end of the 8th century, the city of Heian (modern Kyoto) became the capital of Japan, and only the Chinese language reigned on the literary path. This trend continued for more than a hundred years, but the influence of the Manyoshu did not give up its positions.

The founders of this collection supported national poetry and opposed it to Chinese. The tank became the symbol of the national struggle. Paradoxically, the classic "moon" theme emerged from Chinese culture and took pride of place in Japanese poetry.

Later poets of the 9th century began new stage heyday in Japanese lyrics, Japanese haiku about love are embodied in the anthology " Kokinshu”(the second name is“ Kokin wakashu ”). It was created by the Committee of Poets on the basis of the emperor's decree. Led by the scholar and lyric poet Ki no Tsurayuki, his creative personality has been imprinted in the history of Japanese culture as one of the most important people in history.

Yamato's collection of old and new songs "Kokinshu" is divided into 20 parts, just like "Manyoshu", but unlike the latter, it has an introduction written by Tsurayuki, in which he discusses the meaning of all the poetry of Japan.

Essence tanka refers to a highly spiritual sparkling art, both for connoisseurs and for commoners. During this period, the tanka was the embodiment of the universality of the way of expressing thoughts and emotions, love experiences, embracing the Japanese.

Only poets who master this method can breathe a piece of life into words that are motionless on a piece of paper. Tanks are the pinnacle of classic craftsmanship:

• saigyo,
• Shikisi-Naisinno,
• Fujiwara Sadaie.

The latter is the main compiler of the Shinkokinshu tank anthology, which is very significant for the Japanese (the second name is New Kokinshu). The Japanese also liked the poetic competitions, which were called utaawase.

In the late classics, they began to divide poems into two half-lines: in three and two verses, this rule was dictated by strict censorship. It is not surprising that over time, a manner appeared to put a poem together, gradually new ones joined them, and this is how the new kindrank, genre hakai.

With the advent of the 16th century, renga-hakai acquired the character of a joke, a parody, a mockery. This style was especially fond of the Japanese, belonging to the third estate. Later, rangater-rak separated from such a style as Japanese haiku poetry about love and became an independent unit of poetry. From the very beginning of its existence, haiku was a genre for the low strata of society, the main characters of haikai were townspeople or street rogues.

Hokku Basho appeared in the XVII century from the lips of the wandering monk Matsuo. He created a completely new and unique style of three-line, which was a successful combination of the comic and serious side of haiku. He took his origins from the classic tank. Zen Buddhist and traveler Saigyo was not only his spiritual teacher, but also good friend. The basis of Zen teachings is that the truth of the world is known in small details.

Only through real earthly human feelings can one know the truth of haiku poetry.

Video: Hokku Poetry