Keith Johnson and Dr. Van C. Gessel, English, Asian & Near Eastern Languages
Apart from an all too brief period of popularity during the early ’80’s, the poetry of Taneda Sant©ka (1882-1940) has languished in relative anonymity. He has yet to enjoy the household-name status of fellow haijin like Bash©, IkkyÅ, Ry©kan, et al. This strikes me as inexcusable and yet somehow expected. The life of Sant©ka was defined more by its defeat, rejection, and loneliness than by its triumph, acceptance or fellowship. What amazed me when I first came upon his work (and continues to amaze me now) was how, despite alcoholicism, poverty, malnutrition, suicidal dementia, emotional desolation and loneliness so sharp it pierced him to the soul, he retained within himself the capacity to experience Beauty so powerfully, so purely as to be ineffable. And yet, Sant©ka did find words for it, confusing, revealing, troubling, solacing words. In his peregrinations, emotional and physical, we find ourselves uniquely centered, grounded, exquisitely aware of both anguish and joy. His poetry embodied traditional Zen qualities like simplicity (wabi), solitude (sabi), and impermanence (muj©), but at the same time was capable of explosive emotional force.
Formalistically, his one-line haiku (once considered tantamount to artistic heresy) predated by decades the avant-garde experimentation with haiku form. This duality (tradition v. iconoclasm) presented certain difficulties during translation. I wanted very much to preserve the essence of each haiku—the extent to which I succeeded or failed in this endeavor must be left to the reader. I have attempted to cull from Sant©ka’s literary corpus a number of haiku (65, to be exact, approximately 20% of his total works) representative of his transformation from a young, guilt-stricken monk to a matured, yet haunted Zen spirit. I fear that (my) English, even in its plasticity and concreteness, is too often disingenuous to Sant©ka’s native idiom. However, there are also moments of clarity when we can almost see him and must remain content simply to follow his shadow.
Given here in romanized Japanese and English translation are a few haiku by Taneda Sant©ka. It is my wish that these be considered as a jumping off point, from which a more responsible and in-depth investigation of Sant©ka’s life and artistry might be initiated.
dokuyaku wo futokoro ni shite ama no gawa
the poison hidden in my sleeve; above, the Milky Way.
ie wo izureba fuyuki shin-shin to narabitari
when I leave my home,
the winter trees silent in their ranks
mattaku yuki ga nai kasa wo nugi
removing my sedge hat, utterly snowless
tamasaka ni nomu sake no oto sabishikari
occasionally, the sound of my wine-drinking so desolate
na mo nai kusa no ichihayaku saite murakami
a nameless weed, its sudden purple blossoming
umareta ie wa atokata mo nai hotaru
nothing but fireflies remains of the house of my birth
ishi wo makura ni shire shinjitsu nete iru kojiki
stone for a pillow, this beggar truly sleeping
In conclusion, I wish to thank Dr. Van C. Gessel, without whose intellectual generosity and insight this project could not have been possible. He is an outstanding mentor, remarkable scholar, superlative instructor, gentleman and friend.
I also wish to thank Dr. A. Keith Lawrence of the English Department. His time and editorial acumen are greatly appreciated.