Chiyo-ni is the name by which posterity knows the eighteenth-century poet Fukuda Chiyo or Kaga no Chiyo; surnames were more mutable in those days. Chiyo is probably the foremost female practitioner of the haiku form, whose work maintains haiku’s traditional strong seasonal focus but shows more of a concern for human affairs than was typical for much of her writing period. Below I have translated seven of her poems on late winter and early spring; I hope to translate more of her oeuvre in the future.
I’m indebted to Patricia Donegan and Yoshie Ishibashi's work on Chiyo-ni for bringing her to my attention. All of these poems can be found in their writing on her, some with slightly different orthography in the original.
❦
物ぬひや
夢たゝみこむ
師走の夜
My dreams
On a December night
I sew into my mending
❦
行く年や
もどかしきもの
水ばかり
O the passing years—
Troublesome things
Like so much water
❦
吹く風の
はなればなれや
冬木立
The cold wind doth blow
And breaks itself on
The winter treeline
❦
名月や
雪踏み分けて
石の音
Under the full moon
Stone-footsteps
Snow-echoing
❦
一人寝の
さめて霜夜を
さとりけり
Sleeping alone
A chill night of frost
Brings me to—
❦
ころぶ人を
笑ふてころぶ
雪見かな
Going to see the snow
People laugh seeing others fall over
And fall over themselves
❦
世の華を
丸うつゝむや
朧月
How the hazy moon
Wraps itself around
The flower of this world
(In this last poem, might maruu tsutsumu, “wraps around,” imply a pun on utsutsu, “reality” or “consciousness” as opposed to dreaming?)