Pathway to Japanese Literature

Author: Sugita Hisajo

Early Miscellaneous Poetry Period

In the miscellaneous poetry section of Hototogisu during the early Taisho period, women's haiku predominantly consisted of verses with feminine sentimentality; however, from around Taisho 7 (1918), they suddenly awakened to pure objective sketching, ultimately producing numerous women poets who created sketching verses with modern characteristics.
Truly, the early Taisho miscellaneous poetry period marked a transitional era when women's haiku since the Genroku era took its first step beyond tradition and thrust into sketching from life.

I. Verses Expressing Modern Life Ideology

(1) Verses Composing Modern Life

No one loved life or took interest in living as intensely as modern people did.
While old haiku contained numerous verses about human affairs—grafting trees or sowing wheat—these had primarily emphasized seasonal themes enhanced by human elements. In contrast, modern poets positioned contemporary daily life at their core while striving to grasp its essence, reducing seasonal sensibility to a secondary role.

An electric lamp—its shade draped in purple cloth—ah, morning slumber. Kana Jo

A message received on my journey—

This (i) was a modern person's haiku that draped a purple silk cover over an electric lamp to enjoy morning slumber.
(ro) The fragment in a message from home—received at a traveler’s lodging—reporting her beloved cat’s first litter could not help but stir modest joy and poignant interest in this childless author.

(ha) Reading a play on a winter night—dishes left soaking Hisajo

(ni) Snow bright on the carriage hood—second act Midori

The soiled dishes remained soaked as the wife lost herself reading a play through the winter night—her mind at ease.
(ni) represented two distinctive features of modern literature: Europeanization and urban tones.
This epitomized the acute sensibilities of city dwellers.
On their way to see the second act, bright spring snow fell upon carriage hoods.
Bustling carriages came and went.
Within those hooded carriages rode women in resplendent attire, carried along in buoyant triumph.
Ahead lay the theater’s gaudy colors and indulgent fantasies thick with decadence.
This was indeed a haiku that captured the metropolis’ dazzling ethos.

(ho) Autumn wind thrusts open Mitsui Bank's door and rushes out Shizuno
(he) The Maruzen package shakes off snow and lands with a thud Kayaka
First salmon—from a subordinate Ainu soldier Midori

It skillfully captured the sensation of that moment when one pushed open the heavy door of Mitsui Bank's grand edifice and stepped outside.
This (he) sketched the moment when a package that had arrived one day from Tokyo’s Maruzen to a snow-laden town in Hokuriku was delivered by sweeping snow off in the dirt-floored entryway, presenting one regional hue of modern life.
The first salmon—a distinctly Hokkaido local color.
These all captured facts exactly as they were, sketching them directly—fragmentary records of modern life and pure objective verses born of self-reflection.
Electric lamps, plays, letters, banks, rickshaws—these too were materials born of modern life.

II. Verses Expressing Modern Customs

A raffle—the Governor’s wife before the large vase Shizunojo

Snowy road—the Christmas window lights Hisajo

Water carriers—the summer villa’s steep gate slope Hisajo

(i) A New Year’s banquet scene perhaps—the raffle’s excitement with the Governor’s Wife before a large vase at its center, surrounded by laughing and chattering guests.

(Ro) depicts a Christmas scene: stars shining in the sky as on that night in Nazareth, the chapel’s lights reflecting on the snowy road, and a sleigh passing by with jingling bells.
Such realism indeed possessed an exotic atmosphere unseen in the past.
(ha) depicts both the sight of water carriers hired at a villa-like summer house sweating as they hauled [water] up the steep gate slope and the class consciousness [embedded in such scenes].

A tram halts in winter sunlight between pines—ah. Kana Jo

A stove—the palm and bamboo brush against guests' chairs. Midori

Even the scenery was suffused with Western aesthetics.
A parlor had been carpeted wall-to-wall.
A fireplace burned crimson.
The palm and bamboo in ornamental pots brushed against the chairs as host and guests immersed themselves in modern conversation.

"The haori slipping from the vaccinator’s chair—ah." Shizuno

"A mantel clock—sweet pea vines extending." Kana Jo

From furniture like mantel clocks to plants; from annual events like Christmas celebrations and summer retreats to matters like vaccination—all these modern sketches grounded in cultural life possessed particular vigor.
Consider the verse on the left.

A traveling palanquin approaches head-on—wheat dust swirls Tayo

This depicted scenes from an era when people shouldered loads through Hiroshige-esque highways or traveled by palanquin—a world generations removed from trains and automobiles.

A cold world—the sound of a needle at the andon lamp Kasanjo

This verse makes one think of women's lives in the andon lamp era—existences defined solely by endurance and submission.

The substitute attendants too go hooded—ah, blossom time. Sonjo

When contemplated against the Genroku period's opulent customs, even substitute attendants passing by during peak blossom season—clad in purple hoods or similar—somehow appeared beautiful; yet Hisajo's portrayal of water carriers laboring through their harsh lives substantiated the violent character of their age.

Lowering the elegant bamboo blind—whose wife might she be on this pleasure boat? Akishiki

The elegance reminiscent of Utamaro’s beauty paintings.

Harvest moon—a vehicle halts upon the bridge Hoshinu Jo

In contrast to those elegant antiquated customs, modern women’s haiku sketched lifelike scenes of daily existence with vivid authenticity.

(3) Verses Composing Modern Thought

As modern women, they also boldly and freely express their thoughts and emotions.

In suckling alone—my spring passes by Shizuno

A married woman makes her child suckle milk and devotes herself to housework.
The thought of modern people—awakened to self and desiring the growth of individuality—proved somewhat more rational than Komachi’s poem lamenting her fading beauty through “the flower’s hue has faded away.”

Short summer night—must I discard this milk-starved crying child? Shizuno

Was the milk insufficient, or the child frail?
The mother of that brief night—unable to sleep as her child cried fire-like for milk without cease, overwhelmed until irritation bred thoughts of abandonment—I found it sentimental to frame such maternal anguish and confusion through that rhetorical *Sukashien’wo*—“Must this be discarded?”

In the cold wind I pull onions—stop the string music Hisajo

From the traditional restaurant across the way swelled the lively chatter of string music, saturated with an air of revelry.
A red light came on.
Here, exposed to the cold wind, the woman hurried to pull onions—her hidden loneliness and gloom.
Stop the string music for me pulling onions!
This was the heartrending cry of those crushed beneath the unceasing oppression of their environment.
The contrast between a bright crowd enjoying themselves and those who suffered.
These were the two aspects of modern social conditions.
Verses like *Sukashien’wo* and “stop the string music” presented such gloom and intensity without any modifiers; even as modern haiku, these were verses that occupied a singular position.

Moreover, modern people were prone to excitement.
Consequently emerged what might be called unladylike neutral verses and liberated expression verses.

A slight cold—working through unpleasant sunlight Midori

To waterfall viewers—the water demon gone mad—did they glimpse its shadow? Shizuno

With feverish eyes they remain distinct—bowl goldfish Wakajo

People I hate—my eyes ferocious in the autumn mirror Enjo

Such unbridled expressions of neurotic sensibilities—seething hatred and phantasms—were virtually nonexistent among women haiku poets of old.
Even when compared to the feminine verses of Kana Jo, Yorie, Kenjo, Nanjo and others from the early Taisho period—the female poets of earlier miscellaneous anthologies took a step beyond feminine propriety—devoting their entire liberated selves to art.

(4) Novelistic Haiku

One tendency of modern haiku lay in novelizing and dramatizing fragments of life.

Seeing each other off in the frost—hands never touching as they parted Yorie

Along the frost-covered night road they walked in mutual silence without even touching hands—the man and woman seeing each other off and being seen off. With hearts somehow burning yet smoldering, drained of passion, they parted just like that—a novelistic fact of all that transpired until the separation.

Though I cut the cards, no good fortune comes—spring evening Yorie

The one I curse is the one I love—red hibiscus Kana Jo

A beautiful spring evening—in a velvet-upholstered chair sat a woman, white fingers toying with cards as she waited with an expectant look, performing a solitary divination. The door opened. The maid entered carrying a letter. No good fortune came... A novelistic unfolding of fate... The hibiscus verse. Was it a love triangle or a married couple? Be that as it may, there existed someone convinced of its cursed nature. But when they met, they found themselves fond and felt affection. From just beneath that surface coiled snake-like obsessiveness, curses, doubts. It was a scene from a complex short story.

Flower-wearied—arms dropped on the table, she orders food Midori

In a restaurant room or some such place, a woman wearied from flower viewing threw her ample arms onto the table and waited for the food she had ordered.
Through gaps in the curtains, gritty flower dust blew in; the town below lit up as trams crisscrossed.
The poise of the waitress heavily powdered in white makeup, the listlessness and torment intermingling in the dialogue between a woman and a man—it all appeared as a one-act scene of a spring evening.

Mending tabi—unable to become Nora, the teacher’s wife Hisajo

Compared to the previous verse’s bright hedonism, this haiku was set against the backdrop of a rural teacher’s smoldering life.
Lowering a dim lamp, she mended old tabi socks; her face grew haggard from life’s toil, her eyes already bereft of youth.
The wife awakened in this transitional period—wrapped in various worries and contradictions yet still unable to sever herself from tradition and her children—continued treading the path of endurance and resignation without end.
This haiku—thickened with anguish at its middle line’s failure to become Nora of *A Doll’s House*—stood as a microcosm of social dramas bearing women’s issues and diverse themes.
The verses—the child crying relentlessly for milk, I pulling onions, the tabi-mending wife—were haiku born from the authors’ circumstances for life’s sake.
While they reinforced fin-de-siècle melancholy and an inescapable sense of tormenting fate, even among verses born from similar life circumstances, haiku like *Second Change*, *Karuta*, and *Flower Weariness*—by engaging with modern life’s brightness and splendor—distinctly delineated both light and shadow within intellectual life.

The couple who pounded mochi—seasonal robe change Buson

Having exhausted all possible finery—paper robe Sonjo

When compared to verses from the past—those theatrical yet imbued with tranquil leisure—we saw a striking difference between eras.

Urgency, intensity, profundity—these are products of modernity.

II. Characteristics of Modern Sketching

(1) Complex and Delicate Sketching Haiku

The advancement of sketching grew increasingly complex and delicate.
Haiku that placed value on sketching itself had increased in number.
Staring at the true existence of things and striving to depict them powerfully and clearly, they consequently lacked lingering resonance or leisurely spaciousness.

(A) A sheer cloth-draped folding screen reveals Utamaro’s painting through its transparency Midori

(B) To the withered willow came a bird—blown away, it flies off Hisajo

Raised chrysanthemum dolls swaying— Taeko

(A) She sketched this scene as if seeing it before her eyes—a vision that might belong to a Shōen painting, where Utamaro’s beauty painting showed through vividly and beautifully beneath the sheer cloth hung upon the folding screen.
(B) A bird flew over and perched on a withered willow.
The wind blew.
The bird that had been blown along with the willow soon flew away—objectively narrating the movements of a single bird while describing the piercing loneliness of an autumn evening without any subjectivity.
(C) humorously sketched the chrysanthemum dolls being raised onto the stage through a swaying five-character phrase.

(2) Modernization of Treatment and Prosaic Tendency

Replacing charcoal, children roast mochi in the passing shower shelter Afuhi

From behind where the work sash is tied—the New Year’s Eve bell Shizuno

Playing the shamisen—leaning against the autumn night’s wall Midori

While these works employ preexisting materials, their treatment and depiction prove groundbreaking.
The seasonal allusion to passing showers recedes into background; this haiku centers instead on children roasting mochi.
From behind figures bustling with work sashes comes the New Year's Eve bell's toll, focusing on a woman leaning against a wall playing shamisen—a free technique capturing momentary movement.
Through such prioritization of fresh sketches and innovative treatment emerged content with diluted seasonal essence and even prosaic formal tendencies.

Oil-paper umbrella held—the postal worker arrives at rainy-season inn Kana Jo

Unaware of time, having discarded all nuts—the town draws near Wakajo

Haiku sketched purely for sketching’s sake.
Many verses were composed as exercises to capture existence’s truth.

Winter rose—a beetle buried deep in petals Misako

Lifting the vine—bulbils spill across damp soil Hisajo

(3) Animal Sketching

In animal sketching too, we discern differences between modern times and the Genroku (1688–1704) and Tenmei (1781–1789) periods.

Butterflies dimming as they come—ah, the wide field! Hanasan

Placing a steamer basket of potatoes on the veranda—ah, butterflies come Kana Jo

On radish flowers—a butterfly lifts its jet-black wings Hisajo

Sick butterfly—on the stone its wings lie flat Hisajo

Frozen butterfly—cherry blossom frost as its body’s end Hoshinuno

Autumn butterfly—jet black fading as it alights on cypress leaves Misako

Hanasan’s haiku highlighted butterflies to subjectively interpret a wide field’s tranquility, while Kana Jo’s—an early Taisho-period verse—also centered on the serenity of butterflies coming to a potato steamer basket.
When we came to the radish flowers haiku—where a jet-black butterfly alighted upon pure white blossoms, wings raised—it captured a single point within motion, actively depicting one momentary form; this constituted a new sketching haiku.
In contrasting the frozen butterfly and sick butterfly, rather than the scene of the frozen butterfly lying upon frost-covered leafing cherry trees, what prevailed was the author’s subjective sympathy for the butterfly that froze with the cherry frost as its bodily end.
The other lay with wings flattened against a stone surface—an unblinking gaze fixed upon this sick butterfly now bereft of flight.
In this sick butterfly, one discerned no subjectivity; the effort lay solely in clearly depicting the colors, form, and essential truth captured by the eye.
The autumn butterfly haiku depicted the nature of autumn butterflies faded from jet black.

In the swirling vortex of moths—a single flower came into view Afuhi

Afraid of the lamp, it did not chirp—the whiskers of a broad-leaved insect Senjo

Exchanging sake cups amidst swirling moths— Tayome

Moonlit scene—amidst the passing shower, voices of insects Chiyojo

In this instantaneous sketch where a single red flower came into view within eyes watching moths swirl dizzyingly around a lamp’s circumference, we discerned modern characteristics in the middle seven syllables.
A sketching haiku that fixed its gaze upon the motionless whiskers of a broad-leaved insect.
When compared to classical scene poems that arranged exchanges of cups among moths and situated insect showers within moonlit scenes amidst passing rains, modern haiku proved dynamic and attained exquisite precision.

A caterpillar wriggling through grape berries—ah! Afuhi

Angry snake—slender body reared up in redness—ah! Afuhi

White pig—under autumn sun, ears translucent in blood-red hue Hisajo

A caterpillar crawling and wriggling through beautiful grape berries.
The crimson of a snake raising its hood, slender body reared in anger; the translucent crimson of a white pig’s ears under the autumn sun.
They strove to gaze intently even at animals that had traditionally been deemed ugly, feared, and reviled, faithfully seeking to uncover their essential qualities and poetic beauty.

(4) Still Life Sketching

The still life sketching of the early period involved delicately and realistically depicting the colors, forms, folds, shadows, and other attributes of a single apple or flowers—capturing the essence of things with keen interest.

At the summit, blurred fruit—ah, withered hibiscus Misako

After the grand bloom—no buds remained—winter rose Misako

White bush clover—its tiny particles scattering entirely Senjo

The fruit at the crown of the withered hibiscus lay blurred.
Having discovered winter roses left without buds after their grand blooms faded, and witnessed white bush clover scattering its tiny particles entirely—these were verses first composed through prolonged, faithful observation of blossoms and fruits, delineated each subject’s nature without extraneous scenery: a single withered hibiscus, winter roses in full splendor.

In swelling waters—how fierce the wheel! Wisteria flowers Tayome

Accustomed to burdens—bride’s herb amidst snow patches—ah! Sutejo

Tayome depicted a scene where a waterwheel churned fiercely in swelling waters—a landscape reminiscent of mountain streams.
Sutejo embedded women’s endurance through hardship into the bride’s herb amidst snow patches—here, wisteria and bride’s herb formed a single vista, treated as a means to express a haiku’s subjectivity—a point that diverged from Taisho-era sketching.

Mushroom citadel—caps racing in rows Sōjo

Matsutake mushrooms—a temple dog sniffs the ground as it walks Hoshinuno

In the scent of early mushrooms, a light rain begins to fall—ah! Chigetsu

The Genroku-era haiku did not visually depict early mushrooms themselves but instead evoked the atmosphere of drizzling rain over mushroom-covered hills; the Tenmei works deployed temple dogs sniffing the ground to describe mushroom-foraging scenes; while Taisho-era Sōjo impressionistically sketched a mushroom citadel—large and small caps arrayed like racing figures clustered together—which demonstrated the pictorial charm of haiga-like composition.

(5) Partial Sketching of the Human Body

Once I saw photographs that studied the eternal enigmatic smile of Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece, the Mona Lisa, by isolating and enlarging individual parts—lips, foreheads, and eyes.
Each isolated part achieved perfection in beauty, while their synthesized whole formed an age-old enigmatic smile that defied all imitation.

Taisho women’s haiku likewise engaged in this partial sketching of human anatomy.
Yet whether synthesizing these fragments could preserve the beauty of such an eternal enigma remains uncertain; what’s clear is that this anatomical partialism found no precedent in earlier poetic traditions.

Sakura mochi held in a dimpled cheek—a conversation begins Misako

Summer weight loss—makeup too thick on plucked eyebrows Wakajo

Summer weight loss—cheeks uncolored, hair tied back Hisajo

Holding sakura mochi—dimples pressed into cheeks—innocence.
The core of this haiku lay not in the seasonal theme of sakura mochi, but in the dimple.
Next, thickly drawn eyebrows lent a slightly severe cast to her summer-thinned face; cheeks devoid of color, hair tied back—a middle-aged woman.
These haiku strove with utmost effort to depict only the facial features.

A smile melted away—front teeth where cold crimson had clung Hisajo

Hiding her sidelocks—spring slumber awakened, eyebrows heavy Hisajo

The Cold Crimson haiku treated a woman’s beautiful smile, depicting faded vermilion lips and teeth tinged with cold crimson.

Lay down with winter night’s hair—the stubborn hair tie unyielding Misako

Scattering poppy seeds—in the wind, dried washed hair Hisajo

These Taisho women poets focused primarily on composing about hair itself,

Coolness—tidying morning hair in easeful dawn Rinjo

Sunlight—chrysanthemum flowers like strands of combed white hair Hoshinuno

The women poets of old richly evoked the seasonal feeling of coolness and chrysanthemums basking in sunlight.

If we meet—entangled legs—embankment blizzard Wakajo

(6) Haiku Depicting Women’s Postures

The Taisho women poets boldly depicted their postures and attempted self-expressive sketching verses.

Muddy path—bent over adjusting her spring kimono’s hem Wakajo

Keeping close to my ailing mother—peeling an apple Misako

Cutting hydrangeas—tucking her sleeves into her mouth as she lifts them— Hisajo

Water lilies—hand pressed to temple at water mirror Hisajo

White tabi socks—stooping to put them on with the obi’s stiffness Midori

The maiden’s heart tended to her ailing mother while peeling an apple; or adjusted the hem of a spring kimono; or gazed at her reflection in water; the figure stooped under the stiffness of a gold-embroidered obi while putting on tabi socks.
A woman tried to arrange the heavy hydrangea cluster while lifting it.
Verses capturing such diverse postures were also one method of delicate sketching practice.
Furthermore, verses that vividly depict actions are

Taking the Bon lantern into her hands, she folded it— Misako

One leg at a time she scoots—picking grasses before bush clover Teijo

(7) Haiku Composed on Materials Related to Women

Haiku about kimono that hold the deepest intimacy for women were remarkably numerous across all eras, past and present.
The Genroku-era poet Sonjo, upon seeing Chūjō-hime’s lotus mandala, felt profound guilt over not weaving her own seasonal robes; she lamented spills of wine on freshly changed garments reaching her knees, and composed verses about feeling ashamed before flowers while wearing travel robes soiled with sweat and dust. Chiyojo expressed attachment to her kimono through the line “Birds play at my hem as dyeing begins,” while the Tamamo-shū collection contained—

Artistic grace—drawing pictures on the lining during seasonal robe change Hisajo (Osaka)

[They] cultivated artistic refinement, while others like Yoshiki’s “Willows in the wind—how I wish to dye my robe” expressed traditional sensibilities through feminine lyricism.

Now, as for the Taisho women’s—

Sitting disheveled—your surrounding spring obi Nami Jo

Flower-patterned kimono slid down and pooled at the pillar—Wakajo

Shedding her flower-patterned kimono—sashes cling in varied hues Hisajo

A woman sat collapsed as though having discarded her spring obi, sketching the colors of the surrounding sashes, while the flower-patterned kimono hung on a pillar slipped down under the garment's weight to pool sensually at its base.
When a woman returned from flower viewing and began peeling off her flower-patterned kimono layer by layer, the various sashes fastened around her waist clung annoyingly to the shed garments; combined with the sweet weariness from having seen the blossoms, she boldly articulated—in a decadent manner—both the impression of this motion and its complex chromatic beauty.
Then there were haiku about materials like hairpins, combs, and rings—objects with which only women could be intimately familiar.

Gritty upon the comb lies flower dust Midori

Rice harvesting—a flower hairpin floats on cut stubble Kikujo

In spring mud—a hairpin glimmers and sinks— Kana Jo

Adjusting her hairpin—hair beneath night-blooming cherries Misako

Picking eggplants—the comb’s ridge reflects sunlight back Hisajo

On a single comb, gritty flower dust accumulates.
In spring mud, glinting free and falling—a silver hairpin sinks, shining.
A maiden’s hairpin as she goes to view the night cherry blossoms.
The scene of a rice-cutting woman’s flower hairpin floating caught on the stubble.
These all must be women’s.

O hairpins, O combs—the world grows intense Kasanjo

Hairpins and combs too—the past? Scattered camellias Hakurenjo

Barley harvest—not even a comb exists in this village Kasanjo

Kasanjo’s prim, sermon-like subjectivity carried a slight touch of unpleasantness.
Hakurenjo’s depth of emotion when she shaved her head.
Compared to the rough simplicity of a barley-harvest village, all modern haiku presented scenes through realistic depiction.

Removing gloves—the ring’s gem in dimness Shizuno

Departing spring—when did the gem come loose from the finger ring? Hisajo

(8) Dynamic Depictions

It could be said that almost all sketching of this era consisted of dynamic sketch poems—

Drawing close yet slipping away—evening shower umbrella Midori

Cockscomb’s embrace dances—sudden shower— Hisajo

Wind fierce—soap bubbles fly swiftness— Sumi Jo

The scarf flies long—on the bridge Afuhi

They brought to life even the intensity of evening showers and the wind’s strength through explanation-free momentary sketching.

A karuta card dances down the ladder-like steps— Wakajo

Such as this—a single karuta card was flipped and fell down the steps with force—it became a sketch of that instant.

Water sprinkled—steadily advancing crimson flowers Shizuno

(9) Haiku Handling Light and Shadow

The lamp swarmed by bats—Genji Room— Shokuni

Even at moon viewing—how they long for shadows—women companions Chiyojo

In the trees' darkness—two or three moonlit stepping stones— Teisho

Cicada downpour—sunlight dapples sweep on Hisajo

The aesthetic sentiment of bats swarming around the lamp in the Genji Room of Mii-dera Temple.
Chiyojo’s subjectivity that even during moon viewing, women long for shadows.
Teisho’s haiku impressively depicts the moon flowing through the darkness beneath clustered trees’ shade, with two or three stepping stones appearing to float upward.

Morning glories’ shadows caught up in the blinds— Seifu Jo

Over charcoal fire—the shadow of a hand held there upon the ashes Midori

Knitting—below the eyelashes, autumn sunlight’s shadow Hisajo

The objective depiction where morning glory shadows became entangled as someone rolled up the bamboo blind differed from both the sketch of a hand’s shadow held over charcoal ashes and the delicate sketch where eyelash shadows imprinted distinctly.

(10) Haiku of Time

Eventually noticing—chrysanthemum drizzle and autumn lined robe Midori

Autumn’s first chill—bathed in moonlight, the rain lingers— Afuhi

Before one knows it—light filtering through the grove—autumn dusk— Afuhi

There was a woman in an autumn-lined robe.
Outside, chrysanthemums had bloomed as a light rain began to fall.
Eventually she noticed the rain falling—a profoundly resonant, excellent haiku.
In a rainy night's moment—moonlight catching rain streaks floating white—there lingered autumn's first chill.
Before one knew it—the lamplight filtering through the grove suddenly noticed—a late autumn evening chill with leaves beginning to fall.
All three haiku—born from an ever-vigilant contemplative gaze fixed intently upon things over time, created through some momentary stimulus of change—demonstrated the passage of time.

Sasanquas bloom—a Hyuga cat becomes two— Kiyojo

Sasanquas bloom.
In Hyuga’s sunlit engawa—or somewhere—a single cat crouched.
When observed again later, it had become two—sketching a quiet temporal shift redolent of late autumn.

In hydrangeas—autumn chill permeates Shinano— Hisajo

A haiku that captures both the sudden seasonal shifts of mountain regions and the passage of time.

(11) Haiku of Grand Landscape Depiction

The haiku of this era, being primarily practice pieces, tended toward delicate fragmentation.
One might think sketches made purely for sketching's sake—mere simple descriptions—comprised their entirety, yet numerous poems depicted grand vistas.
However, generally speaking, women poets lacked technical mastery in landscape and narrative poetry comparable to men's; their true brilliance still shone through feminine themes and vantage points.

Distant thicket waves surge—a sudden shower— Afuhi

Tall trees' fallen leaves frolic—dew-drenched field— Afuhi

A flock of sparrows scatters among rice plants—the mountain blue— Afuhi

These haiku radiated with a sketching technique that transcended gender distinctions.

Spring noon—pale dust along the departing ship's edge Misako

Ōike Pond's serene shore—iris buds— Afuhi

Winter calm—small boats trailing the working boats— Senjo

Ryūdō ya—watching the incoming ship—a field of small bamboo grass Hisajo

Sasanquas scattered beyond the fence—winter town— Kana Jo

Lotus bloomed—dawn approached beneath the moon's net— Yorie

When one shifts—carp change hue—autumn water— Teisho

Leaf-strewn mountain—a single peak ablaze—autumn shrine festival Midori

At Mount Ōhiei—thunder approaches from afar—reed warblers— Shunshō Jo

The pale dust at the departing ship's edge.
A parent ship working while towing small boats—
The faint color of sasanquas scattering beyond the fence.
A lotus pond and the moonlit net.
Compared to men's haiku, they still captured distinctly feminine perspectives.
They were beautifully gentle.
Particularly, the iris buds at Ōike Pond's edge exuded a moistness reminiscent of a woodblock landscape print.
Among ancient women poets, Seifuni of the Tenmei era abounded in objective verses of grand landscape depiction, with no shortage of excellent works.

(12) Haiku of Thick Lines

When one advanced a step beyond pure objective sketching as practice works into the realm where subjectivity and objectivity united, these poems ceased to be mere sketch poems created for sketching’s sake—they became thick-lined poems.

Spring thunder—midnight lamp lit—parents’ voices Misako

Stem pickles—tomorrow at the oak tree—Tsukifune’s memorial— Midori

In the inner room—a hushed haiku gathering—during the pine-decorated New Year— Kiyojo

Cold night child—crying at the moon while taking a long piss— Shizuno

A passing shower—lights awaited on the Noh stage— Afuhi

Father dies—Morning Star—frost still clings to pines Hisajo

Drowsiness comes over the mountain litter—kudzu flowers Senjo
Jade hibiscus wilts utterly—the moon after— Yorie

III. Haiku Capturing Personal Circumstances and Individuality

At her mountain villa in Suma, where she had long been nursing a chronic illness, Ms. Senjo composed many haiku on illness.

Even when ill—leisure persists—chrysanthemums' fair weather Senjo

Bell crickets—illness remains illness, yet I live on— Senjo

Year’s End—dreaming some uncertain dream through unrelenting illness— Senjo

While ill—my furnishings during the Pine Decoration period— Senjo

Ms. Senjo—who declared "I shall live through illness as illness"—chanted life's struggle, poured all from sickness and suffering into haiku, and discovered a realm of peace.

The wish to be a good mother—midwinter night— Senjo

Year’s End—the maid’s kindness—my own happiness— Senjo

Without any technique, her verses allowed gentleness to seep out from one aspect of a pine tree-like character,

Mother dyed her handwoven kudzu cloth and wore it— Senjo

I knitted them, and they became old gloves— Senjo

These two haiku firmly present their character—neither frivolous nor flighty.
Ms. Senjo stood as the elder among Taisho-era women’s haiku poets, her verse bearing the tactile quality of ink-wash paintings and handwoven kudzu cloth.

Ms. Misako, who died young in her twenties, possessed a nature as elegant and pure as white bush clover. Despite her chronic leg ailment, she bore it without complaint—the youngest unmarried female haiku poet among Taisho-era women’s poets.

When it rains, I cherish the rain—embroidering chrysanthemums— Misako

Chrysanthemum dolls arranged—yet no will to go out— Misako

In this prime of youth when flowers equally bloomed, she who tended to live secluded—existing solely through haiku—from a maiden's heart that relied utterly on her parents produced numerous poems about them,

Eyebrows resembling mother’s—this joy—winter mirror Misako

While adding charcoal—speaking with swelling nostalgia— Misako

Budding-tree rain—pursuing Mother, yet no umbrella offered— Misako

They lived their entire lives steeped in parental love, bearing unaffected composure, and left behind verses of feminine grace and refinement.

Ms. Yorie commanded a solitary stage in the later miscellaneous composition period; as she remained actively engaged, further discussion would be deferred to later, and merely—

Upon withered chrysanthemums—still love and hate—red and yellow
Autumn wind—the kitten sent out brings tidings—
In these two haiku, one discerned Ms. Yorie’s delicate character—a brightness untainted by lurid anxieties or fixations.

Fewer chrysanthemums than usual on the memorial day— Wakajo

Living alone—barring the bathhouse nook’s door— Sumijo

Both expressed lonely circumstances and feelings,

Winter chrysanthemums—if one cowers before them, there’s no end— Midori

Grass broom—every tree shorn—returning flowers— Midori

Ms. Midori’s brightness and vitality came through unadulterated,

Without wishes—Tekona’s autumn desolate— Kana Jo

Bending my legs to look—tears unrestrained—autumn’s end—

In this haiku by Ms. Kana Jo lay the loneliness of one without children at a certain hour.
The womanly demeanor and fortitude of a household wife raised by an austere mother came through.

Decorating for the Doll Festival—childless and lonely— Misao

Wild geese crying—resembling that night—stars through pines Suijo

The former haiku expressed the loneliness of a barren woman; the latter was a poem of a mother’s tears that mourned her deceased child’s first death anniversary.

Sōmen noodles—striking my grandchild; father-in-law’s displeasure— Hisajo

A heart fallen among the poor—ashamed before lilies— Hisajo

A poor house encircled by wild briars—the moon reverently— Hisajo

A rural old-established household with complicated family dynamics.
Contradictions of circumstance.
Unable to become Nora yet seeking solace in ho-ku, Hisajo—sensitive and easily moved—forgot everything in the pure innocence of the moon over wild briars encircling her impoverished home, her heart swayed even by the beauty of floral robes’ colors.
Her doting nature as a mother—she,

A child with a cold—forehead hair grown long to the eyebrows— Hisajo

She expresses the depth of her attachment to her child.

Regarding haiku about circumstances, individuality, emotions, and states of mind, I would like to write in more detail; however, as this would make the essay excessively long, I have decided to omit all such discussion.

(October, Showa 2 (1927) manuscript)

(“Hototogisu”
(Showa 3 [February 1928])