Between February and April 2011, a total of 305 haiku and 24 tanka were submitted by 77 authors for this selection. The deadline for entries was April 15, 2011. Each participant could send in up to 5 haiku or tanka.
These works were anonymized by Claudia Brefeld, who also had the overall coordination, before the selection began. The jury consisted of Jochen Hahn-Klimroth, Ina Müller-Velten and Heike Stehr. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.
All selected works (16 haiku and 3 tanka) are listed below alphabetically by author's name - up to max. three works per author.
“A haiku / a tanka that appeals to me in particular” - under this motto, every jury member has the opportunity to choose a work (still anonymized), present it here and comment on it.
Claudia Brefeld
A haiku that particularly appeals to me
Selected and commented by Ina Müller-Velten:
Crane calls -
my restless heart
The sky is full of cranes. Twice a year, cranes in long chains move across my garden. If they move away, I often sweep the leaves under the trees and the cold time of the dim light has begun. When they come back, I'm sure it will be spring soon. Cranes move around the time of the equinoxes, in the past few years often well after the autumnal equinox. Sometimes you don't see them, but their calls can be heard.
In the recurring event, people grasp an elementary “life-time space”. The bird migration marks more than just the change between two seasons. In our latitudes it illustrates the division of the year into light and dark and all conceivable contrasts of the weather phenomena that influence our perception. In this way it is a sign of the past year, but also a sign of the approaching one. The Persian calendar begins today with the first day of astronomical spring, "Nouruz".
The nomads of the air are rightly called migratory birds and the migration of birds lets those who remain behind feel goodbye and abandoned. Perhaps the desire for change also comes up inside. The unsteady nomadic soul, which we humans have not lost despite all sedentariness, is stirring with power. Moving along, a change of location or living conditions - maybe just a reminder of the feeling of leaving to go on a journey. Thoughts of freedom that resembles the flight of birds.
In this haiku, “crane calls” is a double word of the season. It remains to be seen whether the year progresses or dies. It is not stated whether the heart is full of hope or is tormented by feelings of parting. The unrest, harbinger of change, has gripped it. In its brevity and openness, the haiku allows readers to link very different feelings with experiencing nature. The minimalist text may evoke different images in the same reader - depending on the season and personal mood. It sounds happy, melancholy or resigned. The image of moving bird chains is not tried. Just the calls that come in from a distance, make you sit up and take notice, swell and become quieter and quieter after the overflight, trigger "unrest". This may have been latent and may have been awakened by the calls. Above all, however, it seems to continue beyond the event; a finely observed moment.
Selected and commented by Jochen Hahn-Klimroth:
Continuous service -
look at the rain
towards the night
The melancholy mood of this haiku attracted me and reminded me of my own experiences with never-ending night services in the hospital. You stand sleepless and restless at the window and wait for something to happen. Or looking into the night before the emergency room, rain in the headlights of the ambulance.
The haiku is linguistically successful, clear, simple words, set very rhythmically. The length of the night is matched in the second and third lines by the inner rhyme Regen / against with its long vowels. A successful example of a modern haiku.
Selected and commented by Heike Stehr:
Billowing, the bamboo,
Rain falls softly
.
(not included in the selection)
The stalks of the bamboo sway elastically in the wind, their back and forth makes it visible, the rustling of the leaves and the creaking of the trunks make it audible. Haiku catches me on different sensory levels. I discover a gentle rain, listen to it, see its drops fall, run, pearl ... Fewer and fewer tones, flowing movements, that sounds in me until it comes to rest. The line lengths visualize becoming less. Past.
Past? My thoughts go on to the loud and quiet moments, to the ups and downs of the course of life: finally over, brought the exhausting project to a close, or unfortunately over, his time at home, my son goes to study ... My painter's heart thinks about it Picture i painted. This haiku moves something in me.
The selection
Continuous service -
look at the rain
towards the night
recess
I breathe hastily
winter sun
Whispers of grass -
up to the swallows
the light white
she goes -
I empty my glass
in the rain
Visit home -
on the factory chimney
now nest storks
Crane calls -
my restless heart
Spring rain -
das Kind spricht
With a toad
Spring sun
The first big shadows
stand on the wall
Blue Hour…
Your smile
I keep to myself
ice cold night
he shows me the stars
in the iPhone
at the roundabout
the next exit
the full moon
Homesickness -
a fly
lands.
Farewell
in the moonlight
his hands
in the morning mist
even the fishermen's nets
are mysterious
resurrected
over the graves
the green
the restorer
closes the last cracks
in the kingdom of heaven
With Chagall
did you want to fly
into the blue -
above the roofs of the city
it is night
It was me
as if snow was falling
so white
lay the moonlight
on your hands
The smell
southern mint
tender
like a summer bird
my heart is dancing today
