A total of 279 haiku by 103 authors and 59 tanka by 26 authors were submitted for this selection. The closing date for entries was January 15, 2021. 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.

Can be submitted only previously unpublished texts (also applies to publications on blogs, forums, including the forums on HI HAIKU, social media and workshops etc.).

No simultaneous submissions please!

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

March selection: Entry deadline January 15, 2022

Otherwise by email with a keyword Haiku / Tanka selection January 15, 4 in the subject please to:


The next deadline for the Haiku / Tanka selection is the April 15, 2021.

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 2022 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 Horst-Oliver Buchholz, Anke Holtz and Evelin Schmidt. The members of the selection group did not submit their own texts.

All selected texts - 53 haiku by 46 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" - this is the motto for each jury member to select up to three texts (still anonymized), to present and comment on them here.

Since the jury should consist of changing participants, I would like to take this opportunity to cordially invite all interested DHG members to contact me in order to participate as a jury member in upcoming selection rounds:
Keyword "HTA jury participation"

Eleanor Nickolay


A haiku that particularly appeals to me

River loop the faint background noise of my life

Birgit Heid

A haiku as a series of words, one line, an incomplete sentence without a verb, no predicate - here we encounter something special: a laconic reduction. And another encounter emerges, that of man, “my life”, with nature, the “river bend”.

The quality of this haiku is nourished by the wealth of relationships between the two, a wealth of relationships that only needs a few words, a concentration of content that is seldom achieved. Here it succeeds in just six words, a minimalist linguistic area that is nevertheless wide. In addition, and even more, the haiku exudes a special calm. A river that flows calmly, the "quiet" background noise of life, there is nothing excited here, an atmospheric serenity spreads, it could also be read as a serenity in life. The haiku does not contain a verb or an action, which deepens the calm without becoming static, because a river flows.

The river, the current of time, associates life, just as water is the element of life. But the current doesn't just flow there, we're reading from a loop. A loop must allow the water to flow when it encounters obstacles, when the straight path is blocked. This is where the connection between nature and people in haiku comes in. Because even a person's path in life is not straight and linear, obstacles and stumbling blocks arise that have to be mastered or avoided.

All of this is accompanied by a "background noise". A meaningful linguistic connection from the water, the river, to the life of the human being, which never remains in perfect calm. Here the atmosphere of the haiku is continued again as if onomatopoeic, images emerge, like a landscape that one would like to indulge in. This is a departure, traveling in a masterful haiku.

Selected and commented by Horst-Oliver Buchholz


Tea bowl
gently escapes
the emptiness

Ramona Left

This haiku appeals to all of the senses. A tea bowl is mentioned here, not a cup, not a pot - a tea bowl. There is no description of a quick-brewed tea from a teabag that drags on for hours in its cup unnoticed, it describes a mindful situation. What do I see in front of me? As a utensil for a Japanese tea ceremony, a tea bowl is not just a cup without a handle, it plays a major role as fine porcelain, artistically painted or pottery and carefully burned by skilled hands. Either way, it is a vessel that is held in the hands. During the ceremony, the tea master carefully fills the bowl with a prepared matcha tea. The emptiness is replaced by an abundance that speaks directly to our senses.

The hands feel, the ears hear the sound of the flowing tea, the scent rises into the nose, the color is seen, the taste felt. But there is no question of that, the escape of the void is described. From the emptiness of the tea bowl I am drawn into the emptiness that I feel again and again. Everyone knows the situation, the head is empty before an exam - although it has been stuffed full, we have a mental block. Or problems and life crises that are falling over us, as it is now for many people in the pandemic - they create emptiness.

To fill the inner void, therapists recommend - activate your senses! If it's that simple, then it helps to enjoy a bowl of tea with all your senses.

The well-known phrase “wait and see and drink tea” was probably intended more for the impatient sick person, but with this haiku it takes on another meaning - to fill the void.

Not a word too much is said, the hidden meaning can be filled by the viewer. Every filled tea bowl will now remind me of this successful haiku.

Selected and commented by Evelin Schmidt


end of autumn
where do the wild geese go

Rene Possel

I live not far from a resting area for cranes and wild geese. Autumn is always a special time when the screams of the great birds can be heard from afar and the formations fly over the house at sunset. For that alone it is worth living in the country, for this magical moment that the haiku captures. End of autumn, the classic word of the season - the spectacle can be seen and heard from the end of September to the beginning of November, depending on the weather. The autumn days are milder due to the climatic changes, the animals stay longer in their resting places and strengthen themselves in the surrounding fields for the long flight. Where are they going, that is the question. The ornithologists have documented the flight routes using transmitters. Still, we wonder whether this group will fly to the rest area at night tonight, or will they start the flight south. Will the geese stay a few more days, or will the show be over tomorrow? Which internal clock reminds you to set off is their secret. There is no weather agency, no navigation system that gives the direction. And yet the animals manage the fascinating bird migration.

The last line is surprising, the personal feeling is described in one word.

In my mind you can take me with you to the southern countries, which have always been longing destinations. The look at the sky is then wistful. The melancholy mood of the farewell that leaves us also fits the season and especially November. As timeless as the topic is, it also allows an emotional classification to the current life situation. This year, the lockdown began in November, and the longing to move with the birds certainly had many people. How will we go on? Shutting down public life, throwing it back on us - where are we going? Will we survive the pandemic like the birds have to survive the long and exhausting journey? There will be sacrifices who may not make it to the weak and sick. There is reason to hope that the geese will come back next spring, as they always have come back.

The haiku manages to describe a strong image for a moment at the end of autumn with a lasting emotional reference.

Selected and commented by Evelin Schmidt


the incense mixture

Sonja Raab

We don't find the Perchtnacht mentioned in the calendar, this night before Epiphany is described as magical and is characterized by ancient rituals and centuries-old beliefs.

The haiku is a reminder of the customs of the old days, when in the rough nights between the years one said goodbye to the old with incense to make room for the new.

Living with nature has shaped us humans for ages, and this is how the incense mixture can be classified. Various native plants were collected and dried over the course of the year; sage, juniper, fir resin, thyme and mugwort are typical, especially since these herbs and resins are said to have a disinfectant effect. In the haiku, the composition of the mixture is looked up online. Which herb is particularly effective, which pleasant smell should the mixture have, who can supply these mixtures - these questions could be asked.

The solution is given in the last line and only contains the word googling, the wisdom of the present is hidden here.

The knowledge has been passed on from generation to generation and has been preserved. We have only been able to google for 20 years in order to fish the ancient wisdom from a gigantic search engine. An artificial word that has now found its way into the Duden. Admittedly, I also had to google to find out more about the Perchtnacht.

Old rituals are only partially recognizable in our living environment. The firecrackers on New Year's Eve are supposed to drive away the evil spirits, if that's still seen at all. We light incense candles for a cozy atmosphere at Christmas time. My mother still knew how to tell that laundry is not allowed to be washed between years. In our subconscious it is laid down: The time between the years is special.

Especially after a difficult Corona year, the old should be behind us and, so to speak, fumigated to have room for new energies, times have probably not changed in this regard. This haiku reaches down into the world of myths and legends, it combines the old and new times with just nine syllables.

I will note the night of January 6th in the calendar or in a timely manner in Outlook, who knows what will happen after thorough smoking.

Selected and commented by Evelin Schmidt


The selection

that the wind sets -
wi / e / the // stand

Ellen Althaus-Rojas

freezing cold
rubbing the cacophone
the joints

Sylvia Bacher

Exit restriction
occupied by the cold snow
the bouncer

Christa Beau

In the early bell
from the church to the virgin
a courtship sound mixes.

Thomas Berger

work from home
the cat is playing
the boss

Martin Berner

father and son
we push our conversation
through the colorful foliage

Christopher Blumentrath

my kitchen calendar is full
with nothing

Christopher Blumentrath

in the eyes of the old man
last light

Stefanie Bucifal

Christmas Eve
an out of tune piano
accompanies the silence

Caroline Christians

Horror movie
the long dark path
to the light switch

Frank Dietrich

Milk moon
on the village pond
a small paper boat

Hildegard Dohrendorf

after singing
the blackbird drinks
a few sips of river

Bernadette Duncan

winter walk
on tiptoe
in the footsteps of yesterday

Hans Egerer

the cheering at the turn
on daddy's shoes

Petra Fischer

Nightshade words
The vague memory
of a dream

Hans-Jürgen Goehrung

in the dark of the night
two gentle eyes
later she says

Gregor Graf

the dream of the ducks
on one leg -
the lake sings icy ...

Ruth Guggenmos-Walter

he pulls the handbrake
stronger than ever

Taiki Haijin

Snowflakes …
it closes quietly
die Type

Claus Hansson

Light and shadow
on old photographs
Father's spirit

Gabriele Hartman

River loop the faint background noise of my life

Birgit Heid

Couples therapy
the witch ring
not yet closed

Birgit Heid

Doctor visit online
The laptop
detects a virus

Deborah Karl Brandt

look at the dawn
in our garden
Ice flowers

Ute till tree

escaped the city
here in the rock garden is silent
even the wind

Silvia Kempen

frost blue night
entwined by a pine tree
the moon

Michaela Kiock

On the bridge
the moonlight flows
get away from me

Petra Klingl

It calms
says the fisherman and pulls
at the hash pipe

Petra Klingl

Prison Yard -
the stubs on the ground
smoky dreams

Joachim Koch

Open fire -
the gentle swing
faded ink

Klaus Kornexl

early are sea
and heaven one -
November night

Gerard Krebs

The old bridge
leads into the dark - in the water
the stars shine.

Moritz Wulf Lange

Sweeping snow ...
still in front of the house
my father's

Eva Limbach

Tea bowl
gently escapes
the emptiness

Ramona Left

the creeks fill up slowly
with moonlight

Ramona Left

Visit to the cemetery
the roses on his grave
are not of her

Ingrid Meinerts

Autumn leaves
to dance

Thilo's mother

alone again
i stab myself
on poinsettia

Eleanor Nickolay

I don't feel like doing anything at all

Jonathan Perry

Think of the days
who are still in the dark -
peppering my soup

Jonathan Perry

end of autumn
where do the wild geese go

Rene Possel

the incense mixture

Sonja Raab

under the window
lies a christmas tree

Sonja Raab

not systemically relevant
a nurse
tries to comfort

Wolfgang Roedig

Action spectacle
the remote control still
caught in time

Sebastian Salie

Corona time
behind the glass
an old smile

Frank Sauer

Sleet -
a crow answers
the silent one

Angelica Seithe

winter morning
a red apple in the snow
tells about summer

Shulamith Sommerfeld

pandemic silence
first time
breastfeed your child

Helga Stania

poppy seed waffles
I choose
the old china

Helga Stania

Chimney sweep
climbs the blossom
the amaryllis

Angela Hilde Timm

ich erinnere
my childhood and find
the way home

Jan C. Weck

Advent Calendar
a boot falls out of the 6
made of chocolate

Birgit Wendling



HTA tanka selection

Silvia Kempen and Peter Rudolf selected 11 Tanka from 9 authors. A maximum of two tanka per author will be accepted.

"A tanka that appeals to me particularly" - texts are presented and commented on under this motto.


A tanka that particularly appeals to me

Must be the bee there
in the scent of the apple blossom
her eyes then
before this evening sun
not squint?

Jonathan Perry

This tanka reminds me of Kobayashi Issa's haiku. Issa has written many haiku about animals and was able to empathize with them and probably spoke to them as well. There are haiku of his which, like this tanka, were formulated as a question.

The bees' compound eyes consist of approx. 6000 individual eyes, the ommatidia. Bees also have three point eyes (ocelles) on their foreheads, which are very small and are covered by the bristles on their heads. These point eyes are extremely sensitive to light and probably serve as an internal clock and light compass. It also enables lightning-fast adjustment to lightness and darkness.

Of course, the bee doesn't have eyelids to squint, but I think that's not what this tanka is about either, but rather about observing, empathizing, and empathizing.

After a day's work on a bench in the garden, the scent of the apple blossom in your nose, watching the busy bees and sunshine until the evening. - A good day.

Selected and commented by Silvia Kempen


a dozen eggs
in the refrigerator door
your team spirit - I nominate
three for the omelette

Gabriele Hartman

Up to the third line I thought: “What do you mean with the eggs in the fridge? That's so banal. ”The third line made me sit up and take notice; the beginning of the fourth line elicited a first laugh from me: Aha, “unbroken” works here as a hinge word. An impressive example of how the hinge verse can be reduced to a single, well-chosen word. The humorous thing about it for me is the connection between the different levels of “food” and “sports team” - an original personification.

The continuation in the fourth line and the end in the fifth made me laugh. Surprisingly, after this perfect moment of the unbroken eggs and their unbroken team spirit, the turn to the everyday, even banal: three eggs are selected for an omelette. This creates the contrast “unbroken / healthy - selected / broken”.

In the fourth line, the verb “nominate”, which appears here primarily from sport, but which at least points to politics with a little finger, encourages my expectations. For me it is the second wonderful choice of words in this tanka. With this, the author leads to the highest point of equal treatment “multiple eggs - team”. From this point of view, the choice of the extra long fourth line is correct, because it saves the punchline on the fifth line for further reading.

What particularly appealed to me about this five-line line was its humor, a welcome guest in difficult times. But I also feel addressed by the shape, as this tanka tells me that choosing such apt words justifies disregarding traditional shapes.

Selected and commented by Peter Rudolf


her head
a carousel
Questions circle
remain unanswered
she talks to the dog

Helga Schulz Blank

After reading this tanka for the first time, I read it again - questioningly, listening. His montage from the shortest line to the longest corresponds to a high degree of despair that I only become aware of after reading it repeatedly. Just staying there and also becoming more and more, also becoming more difficult, is for me the Mark of despair. It seems just as true to me that the real content, if you want to be factual: the problem itself, is not mentioned in these five lines. In this respect, the lengthening of the lines stands for the moment of persistent despair.

Here again: I am of the opinion that I have a tanka in front of me. I am also of the opinion that, of course, only on the basis of the appropriate words, its form gives what is not expressis verbis an expression that the chosen words alone do not give it. The carousel as a symbol for never-ending circles - perfectly chosen.

With the fifth line, the author does not just leave me as a reader affected. I don't call it a dissolution; rather I see it as a consolation. After all, there is one good friend who also understands you - when you lack an understanding person as a counterpart.

Selected and commented by Peter Rudolf


 The selection

Who is not afraid
when calamity floats through the air
silent, invisible,
when people around the world suffer
and mourn the dead?

Renate Buddensiek

the love letter
in a thousand snippets
Snow is falling
through my fingers

Frank Dietrich

clouds draw
the moon here
times there
oh like them
can laugh

Gregor Graf

the 1000 names
for snow
over the world -
the sound of silence ...

Ruth Guggenmos-Walter

the looks black as night
in the howl of the storm -
two snowmen
a big one and a small one
hand in hand …

Ruth Guggenmos-Walter

a dozen eggs
in the refrigerator door
your team spirit - I nominate
three for the omelette

Gabriele Hartman

Hometown train station
we smile in agony
he hugs me
then I watch him
getting smaller and smaller

Sigrid Mertens

Must be the bee there
in the scent of the apple blossom
her eyes then
before this evening sun
not squint?

Jonathan Perry

big snowflakes -
the new season has
finally started
I whistle at the window now
the lively melody

Dragan J. Ristic

our treasure
that we found then -
the green stone
I am laying you today
in your cold hand

Helga Schulz Blank

her head
a carousel
Questions circle
remain unanswered
she talks to the dog

Helga Schulz Blank


Special contribution by René Possél

René Possél chose a haiku from all anonymized submissions that particularly appeals to him.

Visit to the cemetery
the roses on his grave
are not of her

Ingrid Meinerts

Seemingly easy to understand haiku. But it suggests more than that it says anything unequivocal. A man died there. (S) a woman visits the grave in the cemetery. Nowhere in the haiku does it reveal whether she was his wife or lover. In any case, she discovers roses on his grave, "which are not of her". What does this discovery mean?

Everything else is now left to the (more or less great) imagination or the questions of the inclined reader / listener: Did the woman discover posthumously that her husband had a lover?

Was he her husband or lover? Did she love him and put roses on his grave during her (regular?) Visits so that the roses that have now been discovered mean a love competitor? Do the roses appear shortly after the funeral - or after a long time? Could they not mean what one can normally deduce from the symbol?

The dead may “rest in peace”. His grave with the roses discovered on it apparently takes the woman's peace and quiet ...


Haiku Agenda 2024

DHG haiku competition 2023 for the 2024 haiku agenda The DHG board is also planning a haiku agenda for 2024. Members as well as non-members are cordially invited to participate in our competition. At


Haiku event in Stuttgart

Haiku event: Date: Sunday, March 26.03.2023, 13 at 30:4 p.m. Meeting point: Literaturhaus Stuttgart, Foyer, Breitscheidstrasse 70174, 1626 Stuttgart Tour of the Hoppenlau Cemetery (1880-XNUMX) in Stuttgart. There are many tombs of interesting and famous ones there


Haiku and Tanka Selections March 2023

A total of 237 haiku from 82 authors and 60 tanka from 26 authors were submitted for this selection. The deadline for entries was January 15, 2023. These texts were submitted before the selection of


Haiku workshop in Wiesbaden

Early Tulips - Haiku workshop in Wiesbaden The spring workshop announced in the Sommergras magazines 12/2022 and 3/2023 had to be brought forward one day for organizational reasons. It will take place on Saturday, April 01st, 2023. The


Invitation to the zoom seminar with Prof. Makoto Aoki

10th Zoom Haiku Seminar with Prof. Aoki Sunday, February 12.02.2023th, 13 at XNUMX p.m. German time. The theme: "Tori-awase", a combination of two motifs in one haiku. The seminar will be held in German and Japanese. Everyone,


Chrysanthemum 30

CHRYSANTHEMUM RESUMES WORK IN 2023 Submissions are generally possible again. From February 1st to March 1st, authors can submit their contributions for the Spring 2023 issue. Please add the changed ones



https://www.ahaiga.ch/ Die neue Ausgabe von ahaiga ist seit dem 07.01.2023 online. Autoren/Autorinnen sind eingeladen, fürs neue Quartal max. 3 Haiga einzureichen. Einsendungen bitte über die Homepage; keine Mail-Anhänge. Ich freue mich auf

1 2 3 ... 15

Haiku and tanka selection

Click on the box below for more information

Anything else

New forum topics
No topics yet!

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Ut elit elit, luctus nec ullamcorper mattis, dapibus leo pulvinar.