How the season word affects haiku and haibun – setting the emotional tone
Last week I published Wayfinding, a haibun about leaving Greenland and what comes next for me.
The idea for it came to me while I was reading The Collected Haiku of Yosa Buson, translated by W. S. Merwin and Takako Lento.
The book starts with several haiku featuring bush warblers, which I recognised as the season word. Since I don’t live in Japan and am unfamiliar with bush warblers, I looked up their significance and discovered that they are heralds of spring, the first songbirds to arrive in Japan after winter, and a symbol of the change of seasons.
Given that I was on the cusp of my own change, leaving Greenland and returning to Australia, the bush warbler’s association with the transition from winter to spring felt particularly fitting. I chose three of these haiku to become the spine of my haibun.
This week – I want to focus on the use of the season word in haiku and demonstrate one of the reasons its so powerful.
Season word: bush warbler
Given everything I’d just learned about the bush warbler, these two words brought to mind:
- a major transition (winter → spring)
- freedom / agility / lots of movement (small, active bird)
- joy / happiness (songbird)
- excitement and anticipation for the future (looking forward to warmer months)
That’s a lot of heavy lifting for the name of a bird!
Notice how much of what I’m imagining is pure emotion. Because I chose these specific haiku, you instantly understand my mindset as I was leaving Greenland. I don’t need to write a paragraph explaining how I feel – the season word carries the atmosphere for me.
To see this power in action, imagine if I had selected a different Buson haiku to write to.
on a journey
my thoughts turn to old times –
autumn rain*
Season word: autumn rain
In this case, I’m picturing:
- A damp, grey gloom
- The bite of encroaching cold
- Wanting to stay inside
- Nostalgia and longing
A completely different emotional atmosphere.
Everything about this haiku implies I would be leaving Greenland reluctantly, pushed out by circumstance rather than happily heading toward something new.
This is the power of the season word in a haiku. And one of the ways in which haiku dramatically influence the reading of a haibun.
When writing haiku or haibun, consider what associations come with your season word, and whether those associations support what you’re trying to say.
In particular, does it set the right emotional tone? And what else might the reader infer even before they’ve read the rest of the piece?
*Translation by W. S. Merwin and Takako Lento.
