Asian Versatility: Composing Tanka, Haibun, Sijo and Ghazals in English

Many folk out there may not realise this (or even want to), but there is an unspoken consensus among poets working in closed forms that the vast majority of free verse being published here in North America is redundant, artless, devoid of moxy, and possessing of only a modicum of anything resembling talent. In Canada, these perceived sad attributes are compounded by both provincial and federal government funding, which by its very nature compromises or outright impedes any sociopolitical message or intent inherent in said compositions. (How many of you have already stopped reading this article out of shame or anger?) For the disillusioned or burgeoning bard who desires a route different from this monotonous, well-worn path (which often leads to nowhere), but at the same time desires no reminder of the classic Western closed forms that plagued his or her academic youth, one alternative is the various English-language adaptations of traditional Eastern poetic forms. And No, one doesn't have to be a practicing Zen Buddhist or ‘whirling’ dervish in order to successfully adopt these styles.

Virtually all of the literary population is overly familiar with one Eastern style of poetry, the haiku. There is certainly no shortage of journals, zines and websites dedicated in whole or in part to this Japanese classic. It is for this reason that I've chosen to avoid the most popular Eastern form in this context, opting to concentrate instead on a few alternative forms which remain peripheral in the Western poetry experience.

One obvious alternative to the haiku is another Japanese form, the tanka, which originated in the 5th Century CE. Unlike haiku, tanka has been an ‘equal opportunity employer’, being composed by both males and females alike from ancient times onward. Probably owing to this, it is more subjective and emotional than observatory, often revolving around themes of romance and shattered love. The English-language tanka has traditionally consisted of 31 syllables written in a 5-7-5-7-7 arrangement over 5 lines; however, like the haiku, it is often written more freely in this modern climate. It also contains a ‘pivot point’, established by an embellishment or ironic twist in (usually) the latter two lines; e.g.:

One squeeze of perfume

and I smell like my mother:

alert and perfect.

Will I be wearing this scent

when she arrives tomorrow?¹

—Laura Maffei

Publications dedicated to tanka include Gusts (Kozue Uzawa, Dept. of Modern Languages, Univ. of Lethbridge, Lethbridge, AB, T1K 3M4; e-mail: uzawau@uleth.ca), Modern English Tanka (www.modernenglishtanka.com or P.O. Box 43717, Baltimore, MD, 21236), and the (now) online-only Lynx (www.ahapoetry.com/ahalynx).

Another haiku-related form is the haibun, which allows the poet to embrace the best of both worlds by enhancing his or her haiku with added prose. It was originated by that Japanese haiku master Basho, and consists of one or more paragraphs of prose accompanied by one or more haiku at fairly regular intervals—the haiku usually serving as ‘intensifying summarisers’ of the proceeding prose. It is interesting to note that the world's earliest known ‘true’ novel—The Tale of Genji by Japanese court lady Mirusaki Shikibu—was partly written in a style that some interpret as a precursor to this format (Can you hear Henry Fielding and Jonathan Swift turning over in their graves?), and many modern poets accentuate their haibun with tanka (as Lady Mirusaki did), rather than, or in addition to, haiku. This form could be a blessing to anyone who has abilities in both haiku and short fiction, but so far has been unsuccessful in publishing either. As one might expect, there is a considerable demand amongst most editors of haiku-related journals for this literary form; as well, there is Contemporary Haibun, which is an annual compilation of the best material broadcasted on Contemporary Haibun Online (www.poetrylives.com/CHO).

Similar in style to both the tanka and the haiku, the sijo hails from Korea. It is of 13^th Century origin, and its classic authors include Yun Sun-do, Hwang Chin-i and Chong Ch'ol. The traditional sijo consists of 3 lines of 14 to 16 syllables each, displaying a phrasal or somewhat musical quality. The third line usually supplies some sort of ‘surprise’ or pivot in the manner of the tanka. Sometimes, due to modern printing limitations, the 3 lines are divided and presented on the page as 6 lines; e.g.:

A violent wind arises

and descends upon a suburb.

Mobile homes are crushed like beercans

and bodies pass into darkness.

Soon dawn shall smile on snapshots

snug beneath a battered box fan.²

—R. W. Watkins

Much of the Western interest in sijo can be traced to Kim Unsong's English translations of the form's classic authors, beginning in the mid 1980s. For a brief period (1996—'98), the English-language sijo had a home of its own in the form of Larry Gross and Elizabeth St. Jacques's Sijo West; personal tragedy endured by Gross, however, led to its early demise. At the moment, there is no official print publication in existence dedicated to sijo, but Larry Gross hosts the Yahoo! discussion group sijoforum (www.egroups.com/group/sijoforum), and I might publish a low budget sequel to my 2005 one-off zine Contemporary Sijo, if I find myself with enough submitted poems and essays on hand. As well, many journals and websites dedicated primarily to Japanese poetry forms also publish or broadcast a fair number of sijo.

Finally, there's the ghazal—my specialty (or so I'm told). The ghazal is of 7^th Century Arabian origin, and is usually associated with predominantly Muslim nations and the Indian subcontinent. Its principal authors include no less names than Ghalib, Rumi and Hafiz. The ghazal is written in the form of couplets of equal syllabic and/or metrical length and without enjambments—ideally, each couplet can stand as its own complete short poem. Both lines of the first couplet and the second line of each succeeding couplet end with the same word or phrase (radif or radeef), and feature the same exact rhyme (qafia or qaafia) immediately preceding the said word or phrase. Also, each couplet's second line amplifies or adds an ironic twist to the information found in the couplet's first line; e.g.:

In Jerusalem a dead phone's dialed by exiles.

You learn your strange fate: You were exiled by exiles.

One opens the heart to list unborn galaxies.

Don't shut that folder when Earth is filed by exiles.³

—Agha Shahid Ali (excerpt)

Traditionally, the poet would also make a direct reference to him or herself in the final couplet, inserting his or her name or nickname, but this practice has become optional among Western poets. In addition to my own Contemporary Ghazals (nocturnaliris@nf.sympatico.ca or Box 111, Moreton's Hbr., NL, A0G 3H0, Canada), Gene Doty's The Ghazal Page (www.ghazalpage.net) makes regular use of this form, as does the aforementioned Lynx.

And there one has it—a brief overview of some of the more popular Eastern poetic forms adapted to the English language. “Popular,” but—unlike the haiku—not so common that composing in such styles wouldn't guarantee one some advantage in finding acceptance with the editors of specialty publications, who often find themselves short on material at closing dates. Whatever the case, being a composer in such exotic closed forms might come as a welcomed alternative to being yet another grain of sand in the polluted beach of free verse.

¹Lynx, Vol. XII, No. 1, 1997.

²Contemporary Sijo No. 1, 2005.

³Rooms Are Never Finished (W.W. Norton & Co. Inc.), Agha Shahid Ali, 2002.