Believing in the Power of Haiku: Mayuzumi Madoka / Haiku Poet

"Direct Talk"

Haiku are described as the world's shortest form of poetry.

Our guest today, Mayuzumi Madoka,

has composed haiku for many years.

She's been promoting the culture of haiku

not only in Japan but also overseas.

When the invasion of Ukraine began in early 2022,

she invited people around the world to compose haiku for peace.

I wanted to help bring peace to the world

through the spiritual power of words.

Mayuzumi sees haiku as a way to offer prayers for peace.

We asked her about the role that haiku can play in times of crisis.

Believing in the power of haiku

"Overflowing spring"

"Spills into the bath, steaming"

"Autumn waters mix"

Haiku are comprised of three lines of

five, seven, and five syllables each.

The form originated over 300 years ago in Japan.

Poems include a seasonal reference,

rooting feelings and experiences in nature.

In the past, people were much more at one with nature.

Whether it was their clothes, their food, or special events,

the lives of Japanese people were rooted within the changing of the seasons.

It was only natural that that would lead to a form of poetry that celebrated nature.

So it's no exaggeration to say that haiku are, in fact, poems of life.

"For a time, my thoughts"

"Linger on those lands to which"

"The swans return home"

This is a haiku Mayuzumi composed

when Russia began its invasion of Ukraine.

When translating poems into English,

it's typical to preserve the 5-7-5 structure.

When the swans leave,

usually my thoughts go to the now-quiet lake.

But this year was different.

I don't think I've ever wondered so much about the place they returned to.

What I was trying to say is I hope things return to normal as soon as possible,

for both Russia and Ukraine.

I don't think the general public wanted this.

Mayuzumi teaches haiku and haiku culture to university students.

This is a joint lesson

featuring students from an American university with a campus in Japan.

The event was held in the style of a casual poetry contest

where participants brought in haiku on the theme of peace.

In typical haiku contests, poems are presented anonymously,

and participants vote for their favorite.

I chose this one:

"Sunset in Autumn"

"As I walk, I catch the scent"

"Of home-cooked dinners"

You get the sense that the poet has a place to go home to,

a safe space filled with the smell of dinner.

For me, it feels very much like a poem about peace.

When I composed it, I imagined a home filled with

warm light and the aroma of food, which is associated with life.

It's the kind of scene that takes place only during times of peace.

I wanted to give my poem that sense of family and life.

That's a wonderful observation.

Mayuzumi and the students discussed and reflected

on the 17-syllable meditations in peace.

I got critiqued on the haiku that I wrote.

There's so much depth to haiku. What a fun event.

After hearing everyone's poem, which was very inspiring,

and, and... I was touched.

I was really moved.

This experience made them think hard about how to express the idea of peace.

Haiku is about realization: a journey to your inner self.

It can have that effect.

And I could tell that each and every student had gone on their own journey.

Partway through, I forgot that this was a group of students from different countries.

It wasn't about their nationalities.

These were individuals giving their opinions on peace and what peace signified for them.

It was an exchange.

Mayuzumi took to the internet to call on people around the world to submit haiku for peace.

"a day at the beach"

"trying not to think of war"

"and yet here I am"

In about two months, we'd received haiku submissions from people from 36 different countries.

These were regular people who, in one way or another,

wanted to appeal to the world for peace through the power of words.

I think that they realized that through haiku,

they could be proactive and do something about the current situation.

One submission was from a woman in her 20s

from the city of Kharkiv in Ukraine.

"With curfew, blackout."

"Never in my life have I"

"Seen so many stars"

They're under blackout orders,

and the stars in the night sky appear especially beautiful.

She's saying that it felt like it was just her and the stars in the night sky.

I think that she saw the starlight as representing the light of life,

and that she saw the twinkling of the stars as the heartbeat of life.

Mayuzumi visited the Ukrainian Embassy in Tokyo

and met with the ambassador.

She presented him with the haiku that had been sent in from around the world.

Reading these now, they really strike a chord.

It's precisely during times of crisis

that the literature of the common people becomes a force to be reckoned with.

After the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami,

many people in emergency shelters composed haiku.

They didn't have paper or pencils.

They didn't have anything, but haiku can be memorized.

So they tried their best to compose poems about their experience,

and committed them to memory.

I believe that in those sorts of difficult situations,

short poems can really be your friend.

The brevity makes them easier to compose,

as well as easier to read.

Amid the daily hardship.

One haiku...

can reorient your heart.

I think that each person had that one haiku that changed their outlook.

Mayuzumi was born in the town of Yugawara in Kanagawa Prefecture.

She followed in the footsteps of her father and became a haiku poet,

receiving acclaim in 1994,

when she won a highly prestigious award from a notable publisher of haiku poetry.

"After our travels"

"We take our time to enjoy"

"This summer's B-side"

Her chic, pop sensibilities and bold use of foreign loanwords

garnered her a wide following.

When I was younger, I used a lot of foreign loanwords,

and depicted urban settings and romance.

My goal wasn't to make waves or to go against conventions.

In my mind, I was just composing poems that were true to my age at that time.

For me, one of the most important things is to compose poems about the present.

Otherwise, what's the point of experiencing the times through the lens of haiku?

Mayuzumi's work would eventually open doors for her overseas.

Between 2010 and 2011,

she was based in Paris as a Japan Cultural Envoy.

She gave talks and workshops throughout Europe.

But the experience left her feeling conflicted.

People weren't following the form at all.

They weren't using seasonal words.

Or they thought writing haiku was all about the three-line structure,

or sometimes about the line breaks.

Japanese culture is all about form.

If you were to take the form out of the tea ceremony,

it'd just be a tea party.

Likewise, a haiku without the form is just a short poem.

But it's the form that turns the individual words into

something more than the sum of their parts.

The form is what allows the words to really take off.

I made it a point to really emphasize that

the form isn't there to restrict you.

It's there to set you free.

Over the years, Mayuzumi has been building an international community through haiku.

But the COVID-19 pandemic changed everything.

Good morning. Thanks for having me.

With international travel restricted,

she began holding haiku gatherings online.

On this occasion, she was joined by haiku lovers from four countries.

Today showed that we can share thoughts across borders, beyond words.

This meeting has been really life-changing.

It's wonderful, wonderful to see you all and to hear your voice.

Mayuzumi's efforts lead to her "Haiku for Peace" project.

At the time, it really felt miraculous to live to see another day.

You'd hear the birds chirping, and realize it was their way of living today to the fullest.

Same goes for the flowers.

We're all on this journey called life.

In that sense, I think the pandemic caused us all to get back to basics.

And then the crisis in Ukraine happened.

I think that through haiku, people are reflecting on their own lives,

which then leads them to think about the lives of others.

Throughout my career, I've followed the traditional form.

But there comes a time to break with tradition.

I've turned 60, a milestone that's viewed as a rebirth.

So I'm thinking it's time for me to start breaking from tradition

while respecting the form, of course.

I suppose I'm saying, I want to break out of my shell.

At the same time, I intend to continue to compose haiku that are grounded in my life and times

that are grounded in the here and now.

(Do you have any words to live by?)

"Hokuraku-shimon."

This is the name for Fomalhaut,

the brightest star in the Southern Fish constellation.

The southern night sky in autumn doesn't have many bright stars.

And so it feels relatively empty.

This is the only first-magnitude star in its region.

Since I was young, I've always made it a point to avoid flocking together with others.

Of course, it can be scary to go at it alone, because you're unprotected.

But on the upside, the whole wide world is open to you.

There are no limits. And you get to encounter people of all types.

So whenever something gets me down,

I remind myself that a lone star shines in its own corner up in the sky.

Going forward, I'll continue to take inspiration from this star, the solitary one.