A total of 213 haiku from 76 authors and 50 tanka from 24 authors were submitted for this selection. The deadline for submissions was April 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Only previously unpublished texts can be submitted (also applies to publications in blogs, forums, including the forums on HALLO HAIKU, social media and workshops, etc.).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:

September Selection: Deadline July 15, 2022

Otherwise by email to:


The next deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection is the July 15, 2022.

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 Thomas Berger, Bernadette Duncan and Anke Holtz. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.

All selected texts - 46 haiku by 35 authors - are published in alphabetical order of the author's name. 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 a haiku was chosen.

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

Peter Rudolf



A haiku that particularly appeals to me

A harvestman
carries through the open door
spring in

Dieter Gebell

This harvestman comes from Never Alley. In “Momo”, Michael Ende describes how this alley is located in a part of the city where completely different laws prevail than we are used to: the slower the steps, the faster the progress. In the never alley itself it is even necessary to walk backwards. Before Momo turns into this alley, her path leads past a monument in the form of a huge white egg - a symbol of all change.

I mean, every good haiku is one way or another down the poetic never-alley, where unfamiliar rules rule: the quieter, simpler, more everyday in word choice and content, the unsaid what is said, the more haiku quality. If the reader has the patience to go along inwardly, he will find himself at the end of the three lines with Master Hora, the guardian of time. This is also where you meet the people who play the violin on nights of bombing...

Selected and commented on by Bernadette Duncan


The selection

Mother's Day -
another scrutinizing look
on the cell phone battery

Valeria Barouch

Bookstore Cafe –
at each table a Robinson
on his web island

Valeria Barouch

rhyming dictionary
No word rhymes
on human

Daniel Behrens

magnolia buds
do you smell spring
asks the granddaughter

Martin Berner

goodbye kisses
even the sea

Claudia Brefeld

The gap in the fence
is every night from the
darkness patched.

Yann Brunotte

The frozen lake.
Only one in the back of the closet
rusty skate.

Yann Brunotte

reading chair
how many verses
until spring

Stefanie Bucifal

in my heart
found the tracks the
I searched in the snow

Sonja Crones

bereavement leave
the big gap
in my vita

Maya Daneva

the hidden stump
where i sit to pray
hospice garden

Maya Daneva

change of ownership –
on the stepladder at the shed
a blackbird nest.

Reinhard Dellbrugge

desert night
i'm waiting for a word
out of your mouth

Frank Dietrich

Hagi bowl
something holds everything

Petra Fischer

A woman sings with the waves
of the lake.

Volker Friebel

A harvestman
carries through the open door
spring in

Dieter Gebell

raking leaves
make the garden beautiful
for the moon

Claus Hansson

fulfilled silence
the rich colors
im Klee

Gabriele Hartman

fog over the river
nobody comes
towards me

Gabriele Hartman

All family pictures
without me

Deborah Karl Brandt

pussy willow
what we us

Michaela Kiock

house clearance
I'm looking for
mother's voice

Michaela Kiock

The father and the cell phone
the little son speaks
with the bus window

Petra Klingl

wedding ring
on a finger
all happiness

Petra Klingl

the aura
of the summit in the evening light
just not a word now

Gerard Krebs

Last lesson.
The child follows attentively
crawling fly.

Moritz Wulf Lange

Waiting room TV –
how to make houseplants
brings to bloom

Eva Limbach

in the monastery garden
a rose
against the sky

Eva Limbach

Findings retrieval ...
the sound of our footsteps
on frozen grass

Ramona Left

a street performer juggles

Ramona Left

angel of the winds
at night over the shepherd,
Wolf pack not far.

Horst Ludwig

the first row of clouds
all in pink

Ludmila Pettke

the biggest coin
in the well;
Full moon

Kamil Plich

between spring feelings
the sleet
feel on the skin

Wolfgang Roedig

Zu Hause
again did not reach the goal
says the pedometer

Sebastian Salie

throw bars
longer shadows again
an die Wand

Frank Sauer

Spring rain
Last year's newspaper
slowly becoming earth

Michael Rasmus Schernikau

air painting
tell the houses

Evelyn Schmidt

the stork's nest
still orphaned

Evelyn Schmidt

speed trap
traveling way too fast
our first child

Marie Luise Schulze Frenking

veil clouds
the wedding for the third time

Marie Luise Schulze Frenking

swallow –
my friend buys
a walker

Helga Stania

on the work table
all brushes gathered
the idea is still missing

Hans Peter Teuchman

night rest
two yellow traffic lights
wink at each other

Friedrich winemaker

rush hour
the deliberate blow
the tower clock

Friedrich winemaker

spring awakening
harmonica sounds
in Friedwald

Klaus-Dieter Wirth


HTA tanka selection

Silvia Kempen and Martin Thomas chose 7 Tanka from 5 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. Two texts were chosen this time.


A tanka that particularly appeals to me

so that you more
recognize the man in me and
less the friend
I'll meet you today
Three-day beard and leather jacket.

Tony Bohle

"When is a man a man?" - many people in this country might think of the hit single "Men" by Herbert Grönemeyer from 1984 when asking this question. In that song, the artist attempts to approach an answer by stringing together social stereotypes, ironic self-image, and biological facts related to masculinity and manhood. The thematic heaviness recedes into the background due to the catchy melody and rhythm. Not so in the present Tanka, which appears much more accentuated compared to Grönemeyer's catchy tune and in this way immediately stimulates its audience to think.

The lynchpin of the poem is an unrequited love. The subject of the text does not seem to be perceived by his counterpart as a potential partner, but only as a friend - the infamous "friend zone" says hello. This circumstance is attributed – possibly in a final act of desperation – to one's own visual appearance: Am I not manly enough for her/him? But that's where the problems begin: What does my counterpart understand by "masculinity"? What do I mean by "masculinity"? Is a small cosmetic change really enough to win the heart of the person you adore?

The strength of this tanka certainly does not lie in the in-depth discussion of modern role models. On the contrary, the assumption that manhood can only be defined by external appearances seems all too ignorant. Nevertheless, precisely because of this innocence, the poem manages to animate its readership to question their own ideas in relation to what is typically “male” and what is typically “female”. After all, the statement subject doesn't really seem convinced of his plan either. But the poem also appealed to me because I found a popular topos of classic waka poetry dressed in a suitable new guise in the form of unfulfilled love.

Selected and commented on by Martin Thomas


finally ended
with God
the stars twinkle
through bare branches
like he's stalking me

Frank Dietrich

More and more people are leaving the church. The reasons for this are manifold. In addition to the numerous cases of sexual abuse that have come to the public in recent years, it is generally speaking antiquated views in relation to the free life of the individual that are increasingly leading to a turning away from the church as an institution. It is not possible to find out what caused the author of this tanka to make an individual break with God. It could be a personal stroke of fate or a look at the suffering in the world that has become all too clear again in the recent past. For the evaluation of the poem, however, this substantive detail is negligible anyway.

At first, the text doesn't really reveal much, except that the statement subject has "broke up". Exactly with whom remains open for the time being, whereby the absolute nature of the decision made is underlined by the adjective “final” used adverbially. If you think of a typical “relationship story” at the beginning, you will be taught better in the second line: it is none other than “God” who was broken with. Inevitably, after this revelation, one pauses and wonders what may come next. In the next two lines, the text then seems to move away from the original theme by speaking of “blinking stars” which one observes “through bare branches”. Only in the last line is the picture closed by associating the “blinking stars” with God's gaze from the evening sky.

This tanka is definitely the kind of text that doesn't need to be read once to be fully understood, but rather reveals its true quality through repeated analysis of its individual components. No word is left to chance here, no word is too much here. The fascination lies in details such as the "bare branches", the "blinking stars" or the fact that God does not just look down from heaven, but seems to "stalk" the statement subject. The poem radiates a special charm not only on the linguistic level, but also on the semantic level. So the break with God seems to have been made out of deepest conviction, but in view of the night sky, in view of the world that surrounds us, it is difficult for the statement subject not to believe in a Creator. In this case, the break with God is by no means to be equated with the complete loss of one's own faith.

In addition to the thematic freshness and the linguistic creativity, what particularly appealed to me about this tanka was the skilful implementation of elements from classic nature poetry in the human sphere. In my opinion, together with the text discussed above, these are two prime examples of modern German-language tanka in a classical orientation.

Selected and commented on by Martin Thomas


 The selection

The firework
over, but sit down
the sparkle
a little further into the
faces of the audience.

Tony Bohle

Spring is here!
Invisible to the eyes
he begins
in a whiff of Chloé,
that oozes from your throat.

Tony Bohle

As he sits there
the man on the park bench
one would like to think that would lie
because not the vodka bottle.

Reinhard Dellbrugge

as if they were
father and son
in dialogue
the white moon
and the snowman's head

Frank Dietrich

finally ended
with God
the stars twinkle
through bare branches
like he's stalking me

Frank Dietrich

close your eyes
you say, then we are
in Paradise -
here all have rooms

Gabriele Hartman

departing trains
the two old school friends
play in the basement
still young enough
for model railways

Wolfgang Roedig


Special contribution by Ramona Linke

Ramona Linke has selected a haiku from all the anonymous submissions that particularly appeals to her. She appears as a new author in this column.

fulfilled silence
the rich colors
im Klee

Gabriele Hartman

Every reader or viewer has their own way of interpreting a literary text or a very individual view of an image. The haiku presented here symbolizes a sketch from the life of the author, which fascinates me and gives me a lot of freedom for associations. … fulfilled silence / rich colors – evoke a feeling of well-being, of arriving at a place of longing. Here someone is at peace with himself at the moment of immersion in the saturated play of colours. Inspired by the sight, no words are needed (more). I quietly stand next to it and...

My first thoughts conjured up by the word Klee, which is written in italics, wander to Paul Klee's "Southern Garden", to "Flower Myth" and above all to the work "Blue Night". There we stand and watch, everyone indulges in their own way, breathes colors and shapes, enjoys. Maybe silence dominates this short while or a distant whisper touches us, like a breath of wind. While I'm getting involved, Klee's "X-chen" pokes at me and winks at me.

The buzzing of bees in a meadow of clover with white and lilac spots is approaching, pushing gently into my imagination. I remember a warm summer evening, hay weather ... two first-graders hop nearby, they swing upside down on a railing, giggling and contentedly we let ourselves fall, sooner or later, into the blooming clover.


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