Between November and January 2012, a total of 242 haiku and 10 tanka were submitted by 62 authors for this selection. The deadline for entries was January 15, 2012. Each participant could submit 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 Gérard Krebs, Simone K. Busch and Ingrid Petrasch. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.
All selected works (40 haiku and 1 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 Gérard Krebs:
Ice dance -
The seagull and
The fish
Just because of its brevity, this haiku attracts attention. Not that a haiku always has to be so short, but in the present text the brevity is appropriate. Everything that is unnecessary or superfluous is left out here. There is neither a clumsy word nor a complicated syntax. This gives the text lightness.
With the ice dance the season is named, the scene takes place in winter. The movements of the seagull and fish - imagine the ups and downs and the flashes of light - at first glance look like a dance on the ice. On closer inspection, at second glance, the picture is now very concrete (and less “beautiful”): a seagull has grabbed a fish and is “dancing” with it on the ice. The two images (ice dance <-> seagull and fish) contain a contrast and are characterized by a (as kireji serving) indent separated. This also gives the rhythm characteristic of a haiku.
We live in a very ordinary nature scene, the author holds back completely, does not judge. We see an ice dance for a brief moment, then a seagull eating a fish. It is - not unimportant for a haiku - left to the reader to imagine the scene entirely and to find meaning in it. I understand it like this: Eating and being eaten, in nature, however beautiful it may seem to us, is a completely normal process and - we are not excluded from it, neither in a concrete nor in a figurative sense. -
I would have preferred the lower case to the somewhat antiquated capitalization at the beginning of the line (Die / Der) for a text that seems quite modern, but that is a trifle and a matter of taste. In any case, I will certainly like to think about this haiku again on my next walk along the water!
Selected and commented by Simone K. Busch:
New Year's Day
on the signal box
time rusts
The first morning of the new year. Maybe the first walk after the first coffee or tea. And then there is this railroad layout, a signal box. The word alone triggers many associations for me. Is it still in use? I see an old building on disused or little used railroad tracks. Nature is taking it back. Behind this picture, I also suspect abandoned parts of the city that have been left to decay. The phrase "time is rusting" is both unusual and apt. The iron parts of the signal box are covered with a patina made of rust. The past time can be sensually experienced. At the same time, the wording points beyond the present to the future. It is also exciting about this haiku what the image of the signal box in comparison with the New Year's morning brings. For me the first morning in the new year seems to stretch endlessly here, everyday life is far away and people still have "all the time in the world".
Selected and commented by Ingrid Petrasch:
Woodland Cemetery.
A butterfly swirls in the sound
of the death-bell.
I think it's nice that this section offers the jurors, who are still moved back and forth, a change from the "Meckereck" to a kind of chill-out room. I choose a haiku that has everything a haiku must have.
Short, immediate catchiness: No unnecessary or incorrectly placed word inhibits understanding. Cutting word: here it is a short pause: where does the sound come from? Then you know. And startled. A death bell? - It starts where we are! A butterfly made us forget it.
Present and "common" living environment: "Waldfriedhof": This is a place that we all know, and not necessarily only in a sad context, and which is quite popular even with the most sober Berliners. Peace, flowers even in winter, twittering birds, vacant benches, and "literature" are also available: shortest verses!
Sensuality and synthesis: "A butterfly swirls in sound": movement and Sound - simultaneous, light and quiet and somewhere between heaven (I imagine it blue) and earth (I imagine it white). Color and sound whirl together. Does the butterfly move the sound? Does the sound move the butterfly?
Sense and ambiguity: appear after the cut, at the end of the second line: “The death bell”: What makes the butterfly flutter here, what gives it air and sound under the delicate wings, that actually seems to be the cemetery bell, a messenger of death the more delicate and less dramatic. - Is the butterfly a symbol for the soul somewhere? If so, then there is hardly a more beautiful picture than this.¹
Last but not least, this haiku reminds me of one of the most beautiful by Bashô (1688), here in the translation by Kenneth Yasuda:
Beyond cherry brumes / Is the bell at Asakusa / Or Ueno that booms?
Hana no kumo kane wa Ueno ka Asakusa ka
Here, especially in the English version, I see the silent fall of the cherry blossoms and hear the "boom" of the bells floating in the same air in the city of Tokyo, and what a strange relationship they enter into, as if the tones gave the leaves a lift - and as if thousands of blossoms swirling on the tree and in the air had absorbed the sound of the bell.
The mood of the haiku from Basho has returned to me in this haiku: sound, color, movement and symbol (a symbol of death and a symbol of life!) ¹ meet - not visible to everyone, but certainly to those who feel a haiku in it. Flashes momentarily.
¹ Note: In Greek mythology, butterflies (Greek name Psyché) were archetypes of the soul and at the same time symbols of its immortality. - The butterfly can be found in Christian and Jewish cemeteries as a symbol of rebirth (e.g. on the gravestone of the poet E. Th. A. Hoffmann (1776 - 1822) at Hallescher Tor in Berlin-Mitte). The symbol here refers to the soul, which with death frees itself from the inconspicuous, mortal shell of man. - One of the most famous family clans in Japan in the 12th century, the Taira, had the "knight butterfly" in its coat of arms. (From: Wikipedia)
The selection
Clear winter night.
Flows through the alleys
the scent of cinnamon.
April day -
ripples in the puddle
the sun
Cherry blossoms fall ...
we have each other
touched
cigarette smoke
Climbing his roses too
on my balcony ...
and I thought
- name blackened -
would be a friend
on the stairs
whisper two ...
Imp exchanger
shortly before departure
and the goalkeeper
stands apart
after you left
golden snippets
from your star
silvester
the potter checks
the last bowl
Bernadette Duncan
On New Year's morning -
the snow touches silently
the mirror of the lake.
quickly step aside
French beetle
when mating
From the mirror glass
look at children's eyes
the old face
Woodland Cemetery.
A butterfly swirls in the sound
of the death-bell.
lightless morning
catch a robin
my look
Carnival morning ...
the venetian
Mask under the bed
in the bag
earthy heart potatoes
two
early frost
on glittering pastures
spider nests
Albwinter
next to the fox track
my kicks
High bridge -
a bundle on the railing
Red roses
by the chicken god
whitecaps
on distant waves
winter sun
an amber on the wash seam
found me today
At night
the moon in prison
behind bars
le cri de Merlin
hors de la forêt sombre -
il n'est plus perçu
the call of Merlin
from the dark forests
goes unheard
Holy Evening.
The angel made of clay
has no face.
New Year's Day
on the signal box
time rusts
from the photo
the stranger smiles
who you are today
Dawn.
A black cat gropes
themselves over the ice.
Sparkling brook
the silver thread is woven
yourself in the valley
in the strange brook
the voices
from home
Museum in Berlin -
Tourists from Greece
admire the ancient world
winter forest
looks at the deaf child
Air bubbles under the ice
Apple juice spritzer
our straws
touch each other
on the cheeks
the first wrinkles
when you smile
The crow underestimated
also has the cat
Feathered
deep in the gorge
To hold a conversation
with a bird
at the end
of my efforts
wildflowers
Ice dance -
The seagull and
The fish
An owl is sitting
on a branch of the cedar -
beside her the moon.
Moose in the lake
of mouth and mane
the light drips richly
gestrandeter
at the foot of the lighthouse
der Mond
Chasing clouds
over spray sheaves
the clarity
To lose us
in the flow of time
