Waterfalls
When it comes to waterfalls, what most impresses Japanese haiku poets, both classical and modern, is their sound and, to a lesser extent, their physical appearance and refreshing coolness. 滝 taki in Japanese refers to cascades and rapids as well as full-fledged waterfalls. Taki is a kidai (seasonal topic) for all summer and has spawned a number of daughter kigo, such as 滝見 takimi (waterfall viewing); 滝見茶屋 takimi chaya, a teahouse for waterfall watching; 滝風 takikaze, breeze from a waterfall; and 滝の音 taki no oto, sound of a waterfall.
Under the headnote “Nijikō” — the name of the rapids on the upper reaches of the Yoshino River, known for its torrential current over the rocks—Bashō composed this hokku:
ほろほろと山吹散るか滝の音
horohoro to yamabuki chiru ka taki no oto
petal by petal
yellow mountain roses fall —
sound of the rapids
This translation is by Makoto Ueda in Bashō and His Interpreters. Three of the five interpreters Ueda cites suggest that, in one way or another, the sound of the rapids caused the petals to fall. Three commentators believe that Bashō actually witnessed falling petals, while two think he was just exercising his imagination. One lauds the master for “putting something lovely and delicate in the foreground to screen a powerful, violent force of nature,” yet “nevertheless succeeded in giving full expression to that force.”3 Note that 山吹 yamabuki (Japanese globeflower or kerria), a late spring kigo, overrides 滝 taki, and so provides the seasonality of this haiku. Bashō wrote similar haiku about other things going over the falls, such as green pine needles and moonlight, borne on the surface of a cascade.
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