One Hundred Frogs: From Renga to Haiku to English

by Hiroaki Sato

No other Asian poetic form has so intrigued and beguiled the English-speaking world as the Japanese haiku. Even before World War I such imagist poets as Ezra Pound, Amy Lowell, and John Gould Fletcher were experimenting with the form. At that time, Pound well described the haiku as "an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time." Indeed, it is the haiku's  sense of immediacy and its precision that continue to appeal to poets and poetry lovers today. 

In recent decades there has been an upsurge of interest in the haiku, leading to a number of critical studies of the form, studies that have now culminated in the present book. This insightful work not only considers the haiku itself but also the extremely important yet often ignored renga or linked-verse form, out of which the haiku grew. No deep understanding of the haiku is possible without familiarity with the renga.

One Hundred Frogs begins with a detailed history and description of the renga and haiku. Many renowned Japanese poets, most notably Basho, are represented in the wealth of translated poetry that illustrates the text. To bring this history up to date, a discussion of modern Japanese and Western haiku is included.

Next, the author discusses the craft of translating renga and haiku and explores recent developments in the two forms, offering a representative selection of modern works. To reveal the myriad choices open to translators of renga and haiku, the author provides an in-depth analysis of one of Japan's most famous haiku, Basho's poem about a frog in a pond, and presents a compilation of over one hundred translations and variations of the poem. 

The book closes with short anthologies of English-language renga and haiku by contemporary Western poets that offer a tantalizing glimpse of the diversity of expression possible with these two forms.

An instructive celebration of the renga and haiku, this volume furnishes a new perspective on the work of some of Japan's outstanding poets of old and lays a foundation for the appreciation of the renga and haiku that are being written today.

Genres: Poetry, Nonfiction, Japan, Japanese Literature, History

241 pages, Paperback

First published May 2, 1995

About the author

Hiroaki Sato (佐藤 紘彰) born 1942, is a Japanese poet and prolific translator who writes frequently for The Japan Times. He has been called (by Gary Snyder) "perhaps the finest translator of contemporary Japanese poetry into American English."

Reviews

[Punk · Rating 4 out of 5]

There are at least a hundred frogs in this book, but it takes a while to reach them. First, there is a history of renga, its structure, rules, and culture. Renga is a collaborative form of linked verse with rules so complicated they sound like something James T. Kirk made up to distract his alien captors: You must mention the moon in the seventh, eighteenth, thirty-fifth, forty-sixth, sixty-third, seventy-fourth, and ninety-first links. You may only mention the hototogisu once. You must never use the word woman. Of course these rules varied, depending on the length of the renga, the era in which it was created, and, of course, vibes.

This section includes Sato's translation and explication of the renga A Farewell Gift to Sora, which is similar to, but not the same as, what he includes in his later book, Basho's Narrow Road, where the translation seems to have been slightly refined and the commentary expanded.

From there, Sato explains how the opening part of a renga sequence, called the hokku, gave rise to an independent form of poetry that came to be known as haiku. So far so good.

Next is a chapter on translating hokku, haiku, and renga where Sato considers his approach to translation as well as that of others.

Then, finally, the one hundred frogs of the title arrive, with over a hundred translations and variations of Bashō's most famous poem:

古池や蛙飛びこむ水の音
furu ike ya kawazu tobikomu mizu no oto

Translated by Sato as:

An old pond: a frog jumps in—the sound of water

The translations range from inexplicably verbose to infinitely subtle. Sometimes the only difference between them is a single comma. My preferred read is something much like Sato's translation, give or take an article or two, or a punctuation mark. That's the meat of the original poem after all. It doesn't need any flourishes. It doesn't need to rhyme, though more than one translator has tried.

As for the variations, they're responses to the original poem, rather than translations of it, and I found several to love, but my favorite was by Alfred H. Marks:

There once was a curious frog
Who sat by a pond on a log
And, to see what resulted,
In the pond catapulted
With a water-noise heard around the bog.

He turned it into a limerick! What an utterly absurd and delightful thing to do. The beats of a limerick are incredibly familiar to me, and by taking one highly structured poetic form and translating it into another highly structured poetic form, Marks gives me a taste of how haiku might have felt to Bashō and the poets of his day. Not only is this a fun poem well executed, but the comparison of forms really got me thinking about the social currency of poetic forms. I think we can say, broadly, that haiku is considered high brow and limericks low brow, but, as this book will explain, haiku came from haikai, which used common—not poetic—speech, and could be as bawdy as a limerick. So the two forms are more alike than they might initially appear, which is part of what makes Marks' limerick so fascinating to me.

Frogs concluded, there is then a selection of English renga, and a section of English haiku. I enjoyed the haiku, and was as puzzled as ever by the renga. I just don't get renga. I understand how it works because Sato has explained it to me at least three times, but I don't, like, get it, man. I don't have the cultural literacy to understand it in Japanese and it makes even less sense to me in English, a language that lacks the very poetic traditions that renga is built on. Maybe it's like jazz and it's better live, I mean—it is like jazz in a lot of ways! An activity undertaken by a group, improvisational by nature, that builds on itself with a shared understanding of aesthetics and timing. I don't like jazz either.

This book spends a lot of time on renga, both as its own thing, and as the origin of haiku, but thanks to the title I came into this expecting frogs, and when I did not immediately get frogs, I became impatient. I had this feeling like the introduction was taking up half of the book. Like blah blah blah frogs, and I say this as someone deeply interested in learning about haiku! That's on me, but a more descriptive title would have been From Renga to Haiku to English: One Hundred Frogs.

This will be a nice addition to my shelf and easily dipped back into as a reference book, as it has a short glossary up front and a thorough index in the back, as well as an extensive list of sources and credits. I assume that, unless otherwise noted, Sato did all the translating in the text, but that's never made explicit, which is frustrating to me, as translators bring as much of themselves to a poem as the original poet, but that is a minor quibble.

If you want to learn about the journey from renga to haiku, this is the book. Plus, it has over one hundred frogs, eventually.

[Jeff · Rating 5 out of 5]

Awesome book for many reasons, the least of which is the 100 translations of Bashõ's famed poem.

Personally, my favorite part of the book was the explanation of the rules of renga, which are so complex as to warrant their own section. You're probably not going to find a better English explanation than this book offers.

Second best part was @#$!ting on English poets that insist on haiku-as-zen even when it isn't.

Third is the discussion of Shiki and how hokku became haiku.
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Finally, the one hundred translations were great. I could probably write a page about this, but I'll just say that the translations provided by Hiroaki Sato's friends in Part II of the one hundred translations were often hilarious, and the historical translations of Part I highlight the ambiguities of translation well, placed side by side as they are.

[Benjamin Kass · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you're interested in renga and haiku, the history here is very appreciated. Some of the modern renga at the end are also good (shoutout to "In Your Panties", which is probably the best). I think this is a text to supplement interest/knowledge, rather than pursue independently.

[W. F. · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is superb and another I reread often. I especially like the
chapter giving a discussion of the structure of haiku in terms of
lineation. He gives a logic for why haiku began as one-line poems.

[Keith · Rating 2 out of 5]

some really fascinating stuff in here, perhaps i'll return to her some day, but it got far too technico-historical and i had to say goodbye. i'll miss you cute frog.

[Linda · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyed the various translations of the same poem. The same frog poem. What's not to love?