By Geethanjali Rajan

Often, there are arguments (or shall we say discussions) about whether kigo are a necessary part of haiku. Let us briefly look at what a season word does in haiku. It doesn’t just give a context of time, place or month in haiku, it evokes the passage of time, a stage in life, and triggers an emotion in the reader. Seasons evoke various responses and emotions. At the risk of generalising, spring stands for birth, beginnings of life and hence, the emotion of joy; summer indicates youth and hence, all the emotions related to it (that is a wide range); the stillness of autumn suggests ageing, and winter brings on the end of the year, of biting chill, of good-byes. Of course, poets may choose to write haiku that suggest these emotions without referring to a season. Also, they may want to bring in death in spring and birth in winter. However, I would say to us all– choose the season word wisely. Give it some thought. If it is a lived experience, it will work. Otherwise, it may not ring true for the reader.

When we write in a language that is not Japanese and we happen to live in a place other than Japan, it does not make much sense to write about the seasons in Japan. That would amount to making the most ‘deskest’ of desk-ku because we would not be writing from experience nor from a place of authenticity. However, as many experienced haijin have suggested before me, when we use a season word that is particular to the country (or area) we live in, it is still possible to rise up to the occasion of a ‘seasoned’ traditional haiku. Then the discussion moves to whether it would be too narrow a reference or whether people will ‘get it’ even without extra help from the internet.

Adding to this, is the issue of the haiku community mainly being an internet- based one now. Net-based journals or printed books that reach readers across the world, add to the diversity in the experience of season. For instance, an Australian reader of a Christmas verse written by a poet in the USA does not experience the whiteness of snow at that time of the year, but can appreciate the haiku nonetheless. If we articulate the season and the emotion well enough, the haiku works for all. If the reader gets the verse but not altogether, and decides to read a bit more about the season word, no harm done! If it leads to a little more of cross-cultural understanding, it wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. Haiku is not about writing what everyone knows and understands, but about bringing in that bit of wonder from your life onto paper and then, maybe to readers elsewhere.

The cliched repetition of seasonal images is something most people find boring. Yet, there is a beauty in the moon that hasn’t dimmed in centuries. And I definitely love the moon (and the stars and the fading light). Then, what exactly is cliched in a moon verse? It isn’t the moon that is cliched, it is the rest of the haiku that makes it trite. Putting in nature elements just to call it haiku does not work. Similarly, avoiding all elements of nature and seasonal references, just because it has been said “so many times before”, is something I find lazy. I am sure there are moments that are inspiring wherever we live. Again, I am not suggesting that haiku outside of Japan should have the kigo of Japan. Nothing can be more worrying a trend than that! Perhaps, writing about cherry blossoms without understanding the deeper philosophy that the Sakura stands for, is what makes a haiku contrived. Writing about one’s own journeys and geographical spaces, bringing in the seasonal references that one can to make a poem interesting enough, is a skill I admire in many poets. And I am not suggesting that every poem ‘must’ have a seasonal reference (but I do admire poets who are able to do this).

When poets start writing haiku, kigo may seem a little difficult; for some others, it is a natural process. If you live in the buzz of an urban jungle, your haiku probably resonate with that life and not sunsets at the beach or summer strolls in the woods. That’s fine – haiku is only as restrictive as you make it. However, seasons too are a great way of expressing the life that we go through – our lives are a part of a greater cycle in nature, aren’t they? Do what comes naturally to you. Force a season word into a haiku and it won’t work.

Every individual lives a unique life and to find resonance in nature is a gift. I am always grateful when a poet lets me be part of his/her life experience. There is a connection that can’t be ignored. When I read about the festivals in Europe, agrarian Asia, Brazil, the harmattan in Africa, the snow and biting winter in Russia, I am not lost just because I haven’t been there or experienced the season. In fact, I am able to see the significance of the changing seasons even more, when I am made part of the haiku as a reader. Reading haiku by Canadian /American, African, Australian/New Zealand, European, South American poets has taught me much, in a most enjoyable way, about the flora and the fauna in continents that I am yet to visit. Of course, this is not to say that a haiku is written so that readers can learn about flora and fauna (but if that happens, why not?)

Seasons and motifs
Many haiku have the name of the season as part of the kigo – spring, summer, autumn, winter. At this stage, the reader understands very well what the season is. They have been told it is a ‘summer evening’ or a ‘winter noon’. There is no ambiguity. The stage has been set for the reader. But when other season words start finding their way into the poem (as it should), the poet and the reader are not so sure that it works. For instance, hazy moon, dragonfly, azalea, wisteria, butterfly, mango flowers… what time of the year is it and where?

Here are some questions that I had when I started reading and writing haiku almost two decades ago and to which I found some answers somewhere along the way.

What is the traditional classification of kigo in Japan?
The four seasons and a set of words based on the activities of New Year are the basis of the categorization in most saijiki now. That adds up to 5 main categories. Of course, each season may be further divided into 3 sections – for example, early, mid and end-summer kigo. This depends on the saijiki being used. Some saijiki (older) have only 4 seasons.

What words are apt as kigo in each season?
Under each season, there are categories of words – season and weather, flora, fauna, heavenly occurrences (sky, elements), geography (landscape), life and events (human activities). Let us look at the example of autumn in Japan. Here are some words from the classification:

season and weather – departing autumn
flora – falling leaves, pumpkin
fauna – dragonfly
heavenly occurrences – autumn sky, harvest moon
geographical occurrences – autumn woods
life and events – harvest activities or any specific festival in autumn

(Note: English translations of the categories may differ depending on the translator.)

What is the point of using the kigo of Japan while writing haiku in another country (eg, India)?
No point at all. Use the season reference words in your own country or area. There are many festivals, harvest traditions, flora and fauna related to the land and the season that might lend itself to haiku. Again, the tradition and customs of every country / region have not been put together in an almanac. It is an onerous task that will need a lot of effort. But use the word and see where it takes you – that’s what I have been doing.
Note: It doesn’t work when I add a kigo only to dress up the haiku.

What do I do if I don’t want to use kigo or season in haiku? Does it cease to be a haiku?
This is the most difficult to answer. Let me just give you my take (for what it’s worth.) Just because a ku does not have a season reference (‘muki’), it does not cease to be haiku. Even the Masters have written ‘muki’ verses.

まっすぐな道でさみしい
massuguna michide samishii

on this straight road
loneliness

Santoka Taneda
Tr. https://terebess.hu/english/haiku/taneda.html

Santoka talks of the straight road where he feels lonely, alluding to his life itself. There is no season mentioned but it definitely does not feel like spring!

Haiku is poetry. Poetry is meant to bring people together, not divide. (There are plenty of other things that can divide people – let’s not go there.) There may be folks who believe that it is not haiku if there isn’t a season word. There will be others who say that it is haiku, nonetheless. Write from your experience – if the season word is relevant, it will fit in. Strict classifications should not deter you from writing what you want. There are readers who will connect and not everyone has to connect with the same type of verse. Please write – season or not. But if you do use a season word, it should be to show the passing of time, the transience of nature, the relevance is important. Let’s not trivialise it.

Editor’s note: This essay, which has been slightly altered, first appeared as part 2 of a 3-part series ‘Kigo – the beauty of nature in haiku’published on the Café Haiku website in 2021. It appears here with the author’s kind permission.

Geethanjali Rajan teaches English and Japanese in Chennai, India. She has been engaging with haiku for over 2 decades and is drawn towards the possibilities of the form. She conducts workshops and engages in discussions to help create interest in haiku and allied forms. Geethanjali is haiku editor at the online journal, cattails and also on the editorial team of Café Haiku. Her interests include music, books, and Japanese calligraphy. Geethanjali’s books of haikai forms include longing for sun, longing for rain (2023) and a book of responsive poems, Unexpected Gift(2021) with Sonam Chhoki (Bhutan).