A total of 251 haiku by 89 authors and 69 tanka by 23 authors were submitted for this selection. The closing date for entries was October 15, 2022. I anonymized these texts before the selection began.

Each member of the DHG has the option of naming a submission that should be published on the member's own page if the jury disregards it.

Only previously unpublished texts can be submitted (also applies to publications in blogs, forums, including the forums on HALLO HAIKU, social media and workshops, etc.).


No simultaneous submissions please!

Please Haiku / Tanka necessarily collected in one process Enter yourself in the online form on the DHG website HI HAIKU:

March selection: Entry deadline January 15, 2023

Otherwise by e-mail to: wahlen@sommergras.de


The next deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection is the January 15, 2023.


Each participant can take up to six Texts - three Haiku and three Tanka - submit.

With the submission, the author gives the consent for a possible publication in the agenda of the DHG and on http://www.zugetextet.com/ as well as for a possible presentation on the website of the Haiku International Association.


Haiku selection from HTA

The jury consisted of Valeria Barouch, Frank Sauer and Evelin Schmidt. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.

All selected texts - 31 haiku by 26 authors - are published in alphabetical order of the authors' names. A maximum of two haiku per author will be recorded.

"A haiku that particularly appeals to me" - under this motto, each jury member has the opportunity to choose up to three texts (still anonymous), present them here and comment on them. This time six texts were selected.

Since the jury is to be made up of changing participants, I would like to take this opportunity to cordially invite all interested DHG members to participate as jury members in upcoming selection rounds.

Peter Rudolf


A haiku that particularly appeals to me

ice flowers –
the morning thaw
her dimples

Klaus Kornexl

I liked the unexpected ending to this haiku. For the time being, the first two segments seem to concern one and the same image – frost flowers slowly thawing under the morning sun rays or by turning on the heating. A very banal process that we can observe every winter. But in the third segment the surprise is perfect, the winter image gives way to a touching observation - the thawing of her dimples. Since we know that dimples appear when smiling or laughing, the scene now takes on a new form that leaves room for interpretation. That morning Thawing seems to indicate that this isn't a one-time event, but rather that someone rarely gets their left leg up here. Thawing is a process that takes time, so we can imagine what is happening in slow motion, a smile slowly spreading across a face. Maybe it's that of a child who is gently woken up, or that of the partner whose good mood slowly unfolds over the morning coffee. Like dimples, this haiku has a lot of charm.

Selected and commented by Valeria Barouch


went according to plan
a good day

Ingrid Meinerts

We would like to plan our days, check them off, but sometimes we just want to survive. Other planned days should just be beautiful and perfect. It went according to plan that is to say, it ran without problems, without errors.

The haiku describes the moment of looking back. Nothing went according to plan that day. Often experienced, getting up on the wrong leg, missing the bus, burning food, being late – there are many opportunities for haphazardness that upset and disrupt our routines. But is it always the case that nothing works? The generalization is used here as a stylistic device.

There are moments on bad days that are good and have been seen. The long-missing friend is sitting in the next bus, the food could still be saved and now has roasted aromas, you are greeted in a friendly manner despite the delay. Well done again, that can also be the conclusion of a good day, or just satisfaction with one's own life situation, which rarely follows a perfect plan.

Selected and commented by Evelin Schmidt


The selection

Night sky
the fly on the window
climbs to the moon

Christa Beau

television lottery
again I ignore
the lucky offer

Eva Beilich

the last gardeners
through the mesh of the fence
red chard

Christopher Blumentrath

sunday silence
the pair of swans parted
a cloud

Christopher Blumentrath

lonely days
there is a knock on my window
the rain

Horst Oliver Buchholz

the full moon
his shine shines
on the back of a koi

Christopher Calvin

my pen
between two pages...
dry waterfall

Maya Daneva

forbidden candy
the ant trail
she betrays

Frank Dietrich

general practice
the door takes its time
to creak

Bernadette Duncan

fasting day
in the spider web
only fog

Hubert Felser

New Password
she spells softly
her longing

Petra Fischer

of colors against death:

Loretta Gaukel

night flight ban
in the moonlight
wait for the silence

Hartwig Gleim

Auf Wiedersehen
my too tight hug
of the acquaintance

Taiki Haijin

in fresh snow
Crow tracks - her smile
reaches the eyes

Gabriele Hartman

cold autumn morning –
breath rises from the green
up the lake

Sylvia Hartman

on the windowsill
with her grey-haired dachshund
practice them na(c)h-seeing

Bernhard Haupteltshofer

hangover mood
our kiss in the morning

Anne Holtz

ice flowers –
the morning thaw
her dimples

Klaus Kornexl

rice paper –
uprooted in the ink circle
my eyelash

Klaus Kornexl

autumn hike
in love again –
in the sycamore

Gerard Krebs

went according to plan
a good day

Ingrid Meinerts

come and go on platform 1
my doubts

Eleanor Nickolay

dead zone
wir beginnen
a conversation

Eleanor Nickolay

the suppressed tears
when cutting onions
finally cry

Marie Luise Schulze Frenking

November fog
in old church records
meet ancestors

Marie Luise Schulze Frenking

with our shadows
On the evening beach
Kiss the waves

Monica Seidel

alone -
Autumn leaves
fly at me

Angelica Seithe

after the air raid
the blue sky

Brigitte ten Brink

autumn Equinox
undress rough hands
a scarecrow

Friedrich winemaker

the rising and falling
of the tea bag

Friedrich winemaker


HTA tanka selection

Silvia Kempen and Martin Thomas chose 10 Tanka from 8 authors. The selected texts are published in alphabetical order of the authors' names. A maximum of two tanka per author will be recorded.

"A tanka that particularly appeals to me" - under this motto, the two jury members have the opportunity to choose up to three texts (still anonymous), present them here and comment on them. This time a text was selected.


A tanka that particularly appeals to me

in the middle of the war
ein Kind
tells us the difference
between heavy and
light fire

Eva Limbach

The armed invasion of Ukraine by the Russian army, which began in February this year, has now lasted more than eight months. During this time countless people have experienced unspeakable suffering. Death, flight, expulsion, rape, torture - these are all traumatic experiences that have left deep wounds in many Ukrainians that will never heal completely. It is my deep conviction that the Tanka must also devote itself to this military conflict, this human tragedy, unless it wants to close its eyes to reality. Literature and society are not separate spheres, but are mutually dependent. Consequently, everything that moves society must find its way into literature. The only question is how and in what way.

This tanka – at least according to my interpretation – is dedicated to exactly that trouble spot in Eastern Europe, even if the text itself, due to its vague formulation, does not allow any conclusions to be drawn about the war in Ukraine. The thematic linchpin is the fact that the youngest generation is also actively affected by the events of war, be it through direct experience of combat operations or the perception of imminent danger. Specifically, the Tanka addresses the fact that, in view of what is happening in Ukraine, even children develop into veritable war experts who can assess and differentiate between various threats. This, in turn, breaks with our common understanding of childhood - after all, children shouldn't need to know such things - which gives the poem enormous tension. The same text would not be conceivable with "an adult" or "someone" instead of "a child".

When I read the poem, I immediately remembered a short contribution from the world mirror felt reminded.[1] In this, Slata and Aljoscha, two children from Jampil, a small town in the Donetsk Oblast, have their say. They report - also in a matter-of-fact tone - about nighttime cannon fire, power outages and anti-aircraft defenses, which is commented on in the article with the statement "And the children talk about fights as if it were something normal". However, the exact conversational situation of the Tanka discussed here remains unclear. Is the child actually one who witnessed the war itself? Should “in the middle” be understood in terms of time or space? Did a real meeting take place between the child and "us", or is this also about a media report in which children from the crisis region have their say? Questions upon questions that – unless intentionally left open by the author – could have been avoided with a little more fine-tuning.

At this point, one of the biggest problems that I see in relation to the lyrical processing of catastrophic events such as the war in Ukraine also comes to light: the adequate relationship between aesthetic expression and social concerns. If a tanka dedicated to such topics wants to be taken seriously, it has to meet certain stylistic criteria, despite its noble cause. If it cannot do that, it can still be a political statement in verse form, but not a full poem. In my opinion, this tanka, despite minor weaknesses, is the first text from a large number of submissions on the war in Ukraine, which almost balances form and content. At the same time, I would like it to be explicitly understood as a call to continue writing: Even if the task seems difficult, write about the war! Leave historical documents behind! Dedicate yourself to topics that have social relevance! I am sure that you will find what you are looking for in your everyday life and that of your fellow human beings.

Selected and commented by Martin Thomas


[1]Barth, Rebecca/Golod, Vassili (2022): "Ukraine: Interior views after more than seven months of war". In: world mirror, Das Erste, Sunday, October 16.10.2022, 18, 30:19 p.m.–15:44 p.m. (22:100 min). Article available online at: https://www.daserste.de/information/politik-weltgeschehen/weltspiegel/videos/ukraine-russia-krieg-video-22.10.2022.html (XNUMX/XNUMX/XNUMX).


 The selection

"All that's over
is lost, awakens longing"
wrote Bokusui.
Looking through old photos
teaches me better.

Reinhard Dellbrugge

Morpho peleides
fixed with a needle
and framed
the time
folds her wings

Frank Dietrich

I creep for the birds
behind - the fish
I'll follow
and then start swimming
under your gaze

Gabriele Hartman

how we dance
– the autumn leaves, you & me –
through the avenue
to the chords of
"No, je ne regrette rien"

Gabriele Hartman

Sudden gust
the butterfly lost
in the swarm of flowers
I remember
on your first day of school

Pitamber Kaushik

in the middle of the war
ein Kind
tells us the difference
between heavy and
light fire

Eva Limbach

after reconciliation
your gaze out into the
Night -
the tree defoliated by drought
blooms in the lantern light

Angelica Seithe

in the nursing home
his eyes shine
when he tells me
what an adventurer he is in
was young

Brigitte ten Brink

die Blumen
for wedding day
long withered
but always new blossoms
our love

Friedrich winemaker

for hours
drilled and screwed
now I watch daily
on room occupancy
in the insect hotel

Friedrich winemaker

Special contribution by Ramona Linke

Ramona Linke has selected a haiku from all the anonymous submissions that particularly appeals to her. She alternates in this section with René Possél.

the rising and falling
of the tea bag

Friedrich winemaker

A haiku that touches me, asks me to pause.

Someone interrupts their busyness, has decided to have a freshly brewed tea after a hard hour of working and thinking or after a training session, perhaps after a long drive. The author does not mention the humming of the tea kettle nor the heating of one or more tea bowls. It's not about perfection, right or wrong.

The tea bag is gently moved in the water, the color of the liquid changes and a pleasant aroma unfolds. Let go, take a deep breath and feel a touch of lightness and relief. A job is done satisfactorily? The sports program was mastered with flying colors or was it canceled prematurely? The journey was exhausting, road works and traffic jams on the way?

Silent Qi Gong exercises come to mind: mindfulness, guiding the breath, calming the mind.

Is it green tea, herbal tea or black tea? Some passionate tea drinkers strictly reject the use of tea bags, but as the saying goes: "In an emergency..." or when the agenda is too full, it is not always possible to celebrate the entire program of a "small" tea ceremony .

This pause ritual, the raising and lowering of the tea bag, is like a meditation - a steady up and down of the chest, the flow of the breath. Anticipation is in the air. Tea glass or tea pot in hand, calm down, enraptured... briefly close your eyes, patiently waiting for the first sip.

This haiku dispenses with unnecessary accessories and filler words, it fascinates me with its conciseness, its openness and I take it with me to my tea time.

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