Nathan Algren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shiroi_tiger) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhigh2017-06-02 06:38 am
shiroi_tiger) wrote in fandomhigh2017-06-02 06:38 am
Entry tags:
Japanese Art, Friday, Period Two
This week, the students were meeting in the classroom again; the one with the low table and the cushions set out on the floor. There was paper supplied, and there were pens, rather than the bowls of mud or the large mallets from classes in the past.
"This week," Nathan greeted his class, "we're writing poetry. More specifically, we'll be writing haiku. Traditionally, a haiku consists of seventeen on, or syllables, in three phrases of five, seven, and then five. Haiku are mood poems, they don't need to rhyme and they don't use metaphors or similes, nothing is like anything, it just is. They're a moment captured, generally with two thoughts cut together with a third, and often use their imagery to portray a feeling by setting a scene.
"Some of the traditional Japanese rules of haiku are difficult to follow in English-- we don't exactly have a traditional compilation of seasonal words to draw from so that somewhere in the poem we can make a reference to the time of year, for example. But the rules tend to be a little more relaxed in modern haiku, even in Japan they might not strictly count their syllables or use imagery from nature, and it's only a fairly recent perception that the things spoken of in a haiku must be the ordinary and everyday, things that can be observed easily and regularly. Art and language both evolve, and by extension, so too does an art that consists purely of language. So with that in mind... write some haiku. It can be about life on the island, about something from home, or even something you read in a book or saw on television. Try to capture a moment, and to follow at least enough of the rules to make it at least nominally recognizable as haiku, but remember that in the end, this poem is yours, and do with it whatever feels right."
"This week," Nathan greeted his class, "we're writing poetry. More specifically, we'll be writing haiku. Traditionally, a haiku consists of seventeen on, or syllables, in three phrases of five, seven, and then five. Haiku are mood poems, they don't need to rhyme and they don't use metaphors or similes, nothing is like anything, it just is. They're a moment captured, generally with two thoughts cut together with a third, and often use their imagery to portray a feeling by setting a scene.
"Some of the traditional Japanese rules of haiku are difficult to follow in English-- we don't exactly have a traditional compilation of seasonal words to draw from so that somewhere in the poem we can make a reference to the time of year, for example. But the rules tend to be a little more relaxed in modern haiku, even in Japan they might not strictly count their syllables or use imagery from nature, and it's only a fairly recent perception that the things spoken of in a haiku must be the ordinary and everyday, things that can be observed easily and regularly. Art and language both evolve, and by extension, so too does an art that consists purely of language. So with that in mind... write some haiku. It can be about life on the island, about something from home, or even something you read in a book or saw on television. Try to capture a moment, and to follow at least enough of the rules to make it at least nominally recognizable as haiku, but remember that in the end, this poem is yours, and do with it whatever feels right."