“Just enough snow to make you look carefully at familiar streets”: the Haiku of Richard Wright
Posted: December 27, 2012 Filed under: English, Richard Wright | Tags: Haiku written in English Comments Off on “Just enough snow to make you look carefully at familiar streets”: the Haiku of Richard Wright.
Just enough snow
To make you look carefully
At familiar streets.
.
On winter mornings
The candle shows faint markings
Of the teeth of rats.
.
In the falling snow
A laughing boy holds out his palms
Until they are white.
.
The snowball I threw
Was caught in a net of flakes
And wafted away.
.
.
A freezing morning:
I left a bit of my skin
On the broomstick handle.
.
The Christmas season:
A whore is painting her lips
Larger than they are.
.
.
Standing patiently
The horse grants the snowflakes
A home on his back.
.
In the falling snow
the thick wool of the sheep
gives off a faint vapour.
.
Entering my town
In a fall of heavy snow
I feel a stranger.
.
In this rented room
One more winter stands outside
My dirty windowpane.
.
.
The call of a bird
sends a solid cake of snow
sliding off the roof.
.
I slept so long and sound,
but I did not know why until
I saw the snow outside.
.
The smell of sunny snow
is swelling the icy air –
the world grows bigger.
.
The cold is so sharp
that the shadow of the house
bites into the snow.
.
What do they tell you
each night, O winter moon,
before they roll you out?
.
Burning out its time
And timing its own burning,
One lovely candle.
. . .
Richard Nathaniel Wright (born Roxie, Mississippi,1908, died Paris, 1960) was a rigorous Black-American short-story writer, novelist, essayist, and lecturer. He joined the Communist Party USA in 1933 and was Harlem editor for the newspaper “Daily Worker”. Intensely racial themes were pervasive in his work and famous books such as Uncle Tom’s Children (1938), Native Son (1940) and Black Boy (1945) were sometimes criticized for their portrayal of violence – yet, as the 1960s’ voices of Black Power would phrase it – a generation later – he was just “telling it like it is.”
.
Wright discovered Haiku around 1958 and began to write obsessively in this Japanese form using what was becoming the standard “shape” in English: 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables, in three separate lines, and with the final line adding an element of surprise – delicate or otherwise. One of Haiku’s objectives is, to paraphrase Matsuo Bashō, a 17th-century Japanese poet: In a haiku poem, if you reveal 70 to 80 percent of the subject – that’s good – but if you show only 50 to 60 percent, then the reader or listener will never tire of that particular poem.
What do you think – does Wright succeed?
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The 4 Seasons are themes in Haiku; here we have presented a palmful of Wright’s Winter haiku. Wright was frequently bedridden during the last year of his life and his daughter Julia has said that her father’s haiku were “self-developed antidotes against illness, and that breaking down words into syllables matched the shortness of his breath.” She also added: her father was striving “to spin these poems of light out of the gathering darkness.”
We are grateful to poet Ty Hadman for these quotations from Wright’s daughter, Julia.
. . .
The above haiku were selected from the volume Richard Wright: Haiku, This Other World, published posthumously, in 1998, after a collection of several thousand Haiku composed by Wright was ‘ found ‘ in the Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University.
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