Fine Japanese Calligraphy

The Art of Master Japanese Calligrapher Eri Takase

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蜻蛉釣り今日はどこまで行ったやら tonbo-tsuri kyō wa doko made itta yara Chiyojo - My little dragonfly hunter, where has he gone today, I wonder

This is a philological study of the haiku 蜻蛉釣り今日はどこまで行ったやら (tonbo-tsuri kyō wa doko made itta yara), given to Chiyo. It spans from its first print, forty-one years after her death, and examines how a four-character headnote and Issa's own grief turned a parent's ordinary sentence into the legend of a bereaved mother, and how the verse's more than a dozen English translators have argued over it since.

Abstract

A parent's sentence at dusk: the child is out catching dragonflies, and how far did he get today. Since 1816 the line has been printed as the verse Chiyo of Kaga (1703–1775) made when her child died, and every reader since, Japanese and English, has heard the dead child in it. Nothing in the eleven characters says child, or son, or death; the grief comes from a four-character headnote in an anecdote book printed forty-one years after Chiyo died, and from Issa, who three years later copied the verse into his journal of the year his own daughter died and wrote Chiyo's name under it. The verse is in neither of the collections printed in her lifetime, and the modern Japanese references hold the story of the bereaved mother to be legend.

Overview

The text. The scroll carries 蜻蛉釣り今日はどこまで行ったやら, the form every modern Japanese reader knows. The first printing, 1816, writes 蜻蛉釣今日ハ何處まで行たやら, with the furigana とんぼつり over the first word and どこ over 何處: the verb without its small っ, the distance in kanji, the topic marker in katakana [1]. The 1892 typeset of the same book keeps 行たやら and 何處 and adds けふ over 今日 [2]. Issa, writing in 1819, ends the line differently: 蜻蛉釣りけふはどこまで行た事か, what did he do, not how far did he go, the one variant on record that changes the sense [3]. Chamberlain in 1902 prints a third form in romaji only, Tombo-tori / Kyō wa dokora ye / Itta yara (蜻蛉取り今日はどこらへ行ったやら is my rendering of it back into Japanese, not his), and notes in a footnote that another reading gives Tombo-tsuri [4]; where he had his text is not said. From there the printings modernize in steps: 往たやら in a girls' reader of 1912 [5], 行つたやら from 1915 [6], and by 1940 a haiku manual prints どこまで行つたやら, the brushed form with an old-style small tsu [7]. Blyth prints it with okurigana in 1963, character for character as the scroll has it [8]. The meter is five, seven, five: と・ん・ぼ・つ・り, きょ・う・は・ど・こ・ま・で, い・っ・た・や・ら.

The sense. One line and two readings, and the tradition itself says which one is in the text. Read as words, the verse is a parent's sentence at dusk: the child is out at the game, how far did he get today. Read under its headnote, from 1816 onward, it is a mother's verse for a dead child, and the road in どこまで becomes the road of the dead: Hearn in 1901 hears her wondering, in presence of the infinite Mystery, what has become of the little soul [9]; Chamberlain in 1902 asks To what unknown land has he wandered off? [4]; the 1937 lecturer asks 今頃は何處の世界で我子は何をして居るだらうか [10]; Henderson in 1958 hears in まで how far has he gone in his journey in the next world, a journey hard for children without Jizō's protection [11]. Miyamori, a Japanese scholar writing for foreigners, states the relation between the two readings plainly: The original which does not contain "in the unseen world" would be ambiguous without its theme, "Longing for a Departed Child," which I have supplied [12]. Buchanan says the same of his own third line, not in the original Japanese haiku, but it is strongly implied [13]. The grief is real and it is the reader's, put there by a headnote nobody attributes to the poet. Blyth alone refuses the poem its dignity, This is not haiku, but the Japanese Little Boy Blue, and doubts the biography while taking the grief on trust [8]. The Japanese sources hold the verse as a legend of Chiyo the bereaved mother, and hold the legend as untrustworthy; they do not read the line without it.

The words. Five words, eleven characters, and none of them is my, little, son or death. 蜻蛉釣 tonbo-tsuri is a noun, the children's game of catching dragonflies with a decoy on a thread or a rod tipped with birdlime; the 精選版 日本国語大辞典 defines it as おとりのとんぼを竿の先に糸で結びつけ、他のとんぼを誘いよせて捕えること, marks it a season word of autumn, and gives as its earliest printed example this very line, in the 1816 anecdote book [14]. The word names the game, and by an ordinary metonymy the child at it. 今日は kyō wa is today as topic. どこまで doko made is to what point, how far; Hepburn's dictionary, in its first edition of 1867 and its fourth of 1888, glosses it Doko made, to what place, how far? under the entry for まで [15], which is also how the Yokohama newspaper of 1894 rendered it, how far hast thou gone [16]. 行った itta is went, with no subject, no number, no gender. やら yara is the particle of wondering aloud, and I wonder is its exact English. As words the line says: Dragonfly-catching. Today, how far did it go, I wonder. The mother, the boy, his smallness and his death all arrive from outside the text, and the witnesses below say by whom.

The verse in English. The Meiji bilingual dictionaries carry the phrase but not the verse [15]. It entered English with a Yokohama newspaper in 1894 [16], before Nitobe in 1900 [17] and Hearn in 1901 [9]; Chamberlain [4], Walsh [18], Porter [19], Miyamori [12], Henderson [11], Blyth [8], Buchanan [13] and Rexroth [20] carried it on through 1977.

The historical record

1816. Takeuchi Gengen'ichi 竹内玄玄一『俳家奇人談』, an anecdote book. The 千代女 entry of the second volume is a chain of stories: a painting inscribed on the instant, a pair of crossed letters with the poet 乙由 in which she yields to his verse, her nun's name 素園, her gourd verse. Inside it stand two verses with headnotes, はじめて夫を見へたる時「澁かろかしらねど柿の初契」, when she first met her husband, and then 我子を失ひける時「蜻蛉釣今日は何處まで行たやら」。其情態思ふべし, when she lost her child: … consider the state of her feeling. The author gives no date and no age, and cites no book. The verse's earliest sense is the four characters he adds to it [1][2].

1819. 小林一茶『おらが春』, a poet's journal of the year. Issa's daughter Sato died of smallpox on the twenty-first day of the sixth month. After his own verse for her, 露の世はつゆの世ながらさりながら, he sets down other poets' verses on a lost child, each with a headnote, and among them: 子をうしなひて 蜻蛉釣りけふはどこまで行た事か かゞ千代. A grieving father writes her name under the line. His text ends 行た事か, what did he do, the only witness that reads so; the headnote is his, three words, not the anecdote book's four [3].

1906. Hamaguchi Eshō 浜口恵璋『女性と宗教』, a Buddhist priest's book on women. The section 加賀の千代尼 reprints the 1816 entry nearly whole, with emphasis dots beside every character of the verse, signs it (俳家奇人談), and adds a page of the priest's own on her Buddhist verses [21].

1912. 教育研鑽会『ほまれ 花の巻』, a moral reader for girls. Her life told as a story with full furigana: married at eighteen to 金沢の福岡某, one child who died young, the husband dead soon after, the return to her father's house, the verse as what she composed when the child died, and a death date five years wrong. The numbers Miyamori will print in English twenty years later already stand here in Japanese, for schoolgirls [5].

1915. Sassa Seisetsu 佐々醒雪・Iwaya Sazanami 巌谷小波 校『俳人逸話紀行集』, a scholarly anthology of the haikai anecdote books. The 1816 entry typeset and lightly modernized, with its 其の情態もまた思ふべし; the first witness on the desk to write 行つたやら. The editors reprint the anecdote as an anecdote and add no source [6].

1937. Abe Sueo 安倍季雄『家庭教育講演』, a radio lecture on raising children. The verse is quoted with no poet's name at all, as what a parent who has lost a child feels: 其蜻蛉釣をやつて居る子供を見た時に、不圖去年亡した子供のことを想起した。今頃は何處の世界で我子は何をして居るだらうか, seeing the children at their dragonfly-catching, the parent suddenly remembers the child lost last year: in what world is my child now, and what is he doing. This is Hearn's reading of 1901, in Japanese, in a lecture hall, with the author gone [10].

1940. Numanami Keion 沼波瓊音『俳句の作り方味い方入門』, a haiku manual. The short history at its end lists her verses with headnotes, 子を失ひたる時 over this one and 夫を失ひたる時 over the mosquito-net verse, and prints the line in the fully modern form [7].

1966. Nakamoto Jodō 中本恕堂『加賀の千代真蹟集』, the editor's companion to her complete verse. Page 65 describes the two lifetime editions and rules that nothing printed after her death can be trusted. Page 15 gives the count behind the 1,700 verses the encyclopedias cite: 867 from the lifetime collections, 757 added on evidence the editor trusted, 76 more in this supplement. The dragonfly verse is not among the 76. Whether it is among the 757, and on what grounds, is on page 119 of the 全集 itself, which remains out of reach [22].

The dictionaries today. The Heibonsha encyclopedia: 千代女に関しては伝説が多く … 子どもを死なせたときは〈とんぼ釣りけふはどこまで行つたやら〉の句を成したという話などあるが、いずれも信じるべきでない. Japanese Wikipedia, under 誤説: the verse Issa quoted is not among her 1,700 and is regarded as legend [23][24].

The attribution. Nobody in Chiyo's lifetime prints this verse under her name. Her two collections, 千代尼句集 (1764) and 松の聲 (1771), were printed while she lived; the 1922 reprint of both was searched whole and its autumn sections examined; the dragonfly hunter is not there. Her own dragonfly verse is 行水にをのが影追ふ蜻蛉哉, a dragonfly chasing its shadow over the bathwater [25]. The first print of the line is Takeuchi's 『俳家奇人談』, an anecdote book of 1816, inside a string of stories about her wit and modesty, under the four-character headnote 我子を失ひける時, when she lost her child [1]. Three years later Issa, mourning his daughter, copies the verse into おらが春 with 子をうしなひて above it and かゞ千代 below [3], and it is his page, not the anecdote book, that the English tradition descends from. The modern editor of her complete verse, Nakamoto, states the rule that governs all of this: 以上が生存中のものである。後世になって種々の句集は出たが信頼出来るものはない, the lifetime collections are the record; the various collections printed after her death cannot be trusted [22]. The Heibonsha encyclopedia says the same of the anecdotes, いずれも信じるべきでない [23], and Japanese Wikipedia files the dragonfly verse under 誤説 [24]. In English the attribution is manufacturing itself in the other direction from the first: the 1894 newspaper calls it an old and well-known poem without a poet [16]; Nitobe in 1900 gives it to a mother without a name [17]; Hearn in 1901 says it was written by Chiyo after her boy died [9]; Chamberlain in 1902 adds that her little boy, too, had died [4]; Walsh in 1910 heads it Written after the Death of her little Son [18]; Miyamori in 1932 supplies a title and a marriage at nineteen [12]; only Blyth, in 1963, writes usually given as hers [8]. The verse is the one Issa wrote her name under. That is the whole of what the record supports.

What is not a source. The marriage, the widowhood and the child are one account, and the tellings disagree on the numbers: the 1912 reader marries her at eighteen [5], Miyamori at nineteen [12], the Heibonsha entry's 一説 at eighteen with widowhood at twenty-five [23], Miyamori at twenty-seven, Wikipedia's marriage account at twenty [24]. A spread like that is what a legend looks like. The bridal persimmon verse 澁かろかしらねど柿の初契 and the widow's mosquito net 起きてみつ寝てみつ蚊帳の広さかな are two more verses of the same shape, carried by the same anecdote tradition and absent from the same collections; Chamberlain prints all three together in 1902 as the three epigrams of her life [4]; the 1937 lecture [10] and Blyth [8] both pair the dragonfly hunter with a fourth, 破る子のなくて障子の寒さかな, whose attribution Blyth calls doubtful. Miyamori's title 亡兒を憶ふ, Longing for a Departed Child, is his own, by his own preface: Most of the titles of the verses are from my own pen [12]. None of these is a source for the verse; they are the company it keeps.

The verse in English

1894. The Japan Weekly Mail, Yokohama, 15 December. In the Sino-Japanese War the Yomiuri printed a woodcut of a giant dragonfly, the symbol of Japan, its body a sabre and its head a pair of binoculars, over a map of the Liaodong peninsula, heading for Peking, with an old and well-known poem, the text being slightly altered to suit the occasion: Tombo tobi / Kyō wa doko made / Itta yara?, which the Mail renders Oh flying Dragon-fly, how far hast thou gone to-day, I wonder? The verse was a household line in 1894, known well enough to parody in a war cartoon, and its first English is how far [16].

1900. Inazō Nitobe, Bushido: The Soul of Japan, Leeds & Biddle, Philadelphia, p. 71. In the chapter on self-control: A mother who tries to console her broken heart by fancying her child absent on his wonted chase after the dragon-fly, hums, "How far to-day in chase, I wonder, / Has gone my hunter of the dragon-fly!" No poet named; the mother, the dead child and my hunter are Nitobe's frame. Griffis copies the passage into Dux Christus in 1904, crediting Nitobe [17][26].

1901. Lafcadio Hearn, A Japanese Miscellany, the essay Dragon-flies, pp. 117–118. Catching dragon-flies! … I wonder where he has gone to-day!, with the note: It was written by the famous female poet, Chiyo of Kaga, after the death of her little boy. Hearn supplies the story, the mother and the certainty; his own reading, she sees children running after dragon-flies, and thinks of her own dead boy who used to join in the sport, is the one the 1937 Japanese lecture repeats. His Catching dragon-flies! is the one rendering in the lineage that keeps 蜻蛉釣 as the game rather than the child; his where is the first to drop まで [9].

1902. Basil Hall Chamberlain, Bashō and the Japanese Poetical Epigram, Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan vol. 30, pp. 300–301, no. 43; reprinted in Japanese Poetry, John Murray, 1910. Where may he have gone off to-day— / The hunter after dragon-flies?, from a text reading Tombo-tori / Kyō wa dokora ye / Itta yara, with the footnote that another reading gives Tombo-tsuri, the fisherman for dragon-flies, since Japanese children often catch these insects with toy line and hooks. Then: Her little boy, too, had died, the bright lad who used to run after dragon-flies in the sunshine. To what unknown land has he wandered off?—Surely this tiny composition were almost worthy a place in the Greek Anthology. Chamberlain supplies hunter, the word every English rendering since has kept. In the vote of thanks that closed the meeting the verse was already the example of universality: The verse of Chiyo of Kaga, for example, about her little dragonfly-hunter, speaks not to any one race or age [4][27].

1910. Clara A. Walsh, The Master-Singers of Japan, John Murray, p. 99. Headed The Dragon-fly, by Chiyo (Written after the Death of her little Son): How far, I wonder, did he stray, / Chasing the burnished dragon-fly to-day? Walsh supplies How far, I wonder, which Blyth will take in 1963, and burnished, which nobody took [18].

1911. William N. Porter, A Year of Japanese Epigrams. Miyamori prints under Porter's name Autumn and autumn skies! / But where is my laddie, he who chased / The flitting dragonflies? Porter's book is in the harvest and was searched for Chiyo, dragonfly and laddie; it does not carry the verse, so the line stands here as Miyamori quotes it and not at its own page. Porter supplies my laddie and an autumn sky that is not in the Japanese [19].

1923. Curtis Hidden Page, as quoted by Miyamori and Henderson: I wonder in what fields to-day— / He chases dragonflies in play— / My little boy—who ran away. Page supplies My little boy. His book remains out of reach. Michel Revon's French, Le pêcheur de libellules! / Aujourd'hui, jusqu'où / Est-il allé?, is likewise known here only from Miyamori's page [12][11].

1932. 宮森麻太郎 Asatarō Miyamori, An Anthology of Haiku Ancient and Modern, Maruzen, no. 377, pp. 420–422. The Japanese, a romaji, a title, a rendering and a note: 亡兒を憶ふ · Longing for a Departed Child · How far may he have gone to-day— / My little dragonfly hunter! Then: Chiyo was married at nineteen, eight years later her husband died and the following year she was bereft of her only son, and the admission that the original does not contain in the unseen world. His biography is the 1816 entry's first four sentences, and his numbers are the 1912 girls' reader's. His second line, My little dragonfly hunter, is the first line of the house title, verbatim [12].

1958. Harold G. Henderson, An Introduction to Haiku, Doubleday Anchor, pp. 82–83. Her finest poem is probably the one she wrote after the death of her little son. A fairly literal translation is: The dragonfly hunter— / today, what place has he / got to, I wonder…, with the word-by-word gloss Dragonfly-catcher | today | as-for | what-place | up-to | has-gone | I wonder. He then prints Page's version as beautifully rendered, and adds the sentence on まで quoted above [11].

1963. R. H. Blyth, A History of Haiku, vol. 1, Hokuseido, pp. 218–223. The little dragon-fly hunter,— / How far, I wonder, / Has he gone today? Introduced as one of two verses usually given as hers, both as referring to her own child who had died, and judged: This is not haiku, but the Japanese Little Boy Blue. On page 218 her husband dies eight years after the marriage; on page 221 she apparently died unmarried; the contradiction stands. His four-volume Haiku gives the dragonfly eight pages and prints Chiyo at every indexed entry, and leaves this one out [8][28].

1973. Daniel C. Buchanan, One Hundred Famous Haiku, Japan Publications, p. 67. Dragonfly catcher, / How far have you gone today / In your wandering?, with: This poem was composed after the death of her little son, her only child, who was fond of hunting dragonflies. Though not described directly, the sorrow of the mother is beautifully and poignantly expressed. The third line of the English translation is not in the original Japanese haiku, but it is strongly implied. Buchanan keeps the game in the first line, as Hearn did, and addresses the child [13].

1977. Kenneth Rexroth, Women Poets of Japan, New Directions, the Chiyo section. My hunter of dragonflies, / How far has he wandered today? Two lines, my, how far [20].

2018. Adam L. Kern, The Penguin Book of Haiku, Penguin Classics, page 235. chasing dragonflies … / whither my boy this very day / never to return?, romaji tonbotsuri / kyō wa dokomade / itta yara, with the note Attributed to the nun Chiyo. Supposedly written after the death of her only child, a boy some nine or ten years old. [29]

Today. The scroll's title is My little dragonfly hunter, where has he gone today, I wonder, Timothy L. Jackowski's, made for Takase Studios; its first line is Miyamori's, and its where is Hearn's. The page argues its choice: Translations of this poem tend to be either too literal or too detached. The last two lines are a single sentence that is simply spoken words — words you could imagine any mother muttering to herself a thousand times: "I wonder where he has gone today?" I think this is important to preserve in the translation and that it is essential to the beauty of the poem. On the main point I agree with the page, and the Japanese supports it: the line is spoken words, やら is a mother wondering aloud, and a rendering that solemnizes it loses what it has. I would differ on two words, and I state the difference as a translator's choice, not an error. First, まで: the Japanese asks how far he got, not where he went, and Hepburn, the 1894 Mail, Walsh, Henderson, Blyth, Buchanan and Rexroth all keep it; Hearn dropped it, and the house followed Hearn. Henderson's argument that まで carries the journey of the dead is a reader's, but how far did he get is also what a parent says of a child on a bicycle, so keeping まで costs the page's spoken register nothing. Second, my little: the Japanese has neither word, and every rendering since Chamberlain has put the child into the first line where the Japanese has only the game; Hearn's Catching dragon-flies! and Buchanan's Dragonfly catcher are the two that keep it as the Japanese has it. The page's little is Miyamori's and does the work of the headnote inside the verse. Both choices are defensible; a rendering that kept both the spoken register and the Japanese's reticence would be something like the gloss at the head of this article. Whether the title changes is the house's decision, and the page should carry whichever it decides with its translator named. Ruled: Tim: "keep the dragonfly title." The title stays as his, credited on the page; the two differences above stand in the open as a translator's choices, which is what this section is for [30].

A reading

The line is a mother's sentence, and it is beautiful because it stops where it stops. どこまで行ったやら is what any parent says at dusk with a child not home; the grief that two centuries of readers hear in it is real, but it is the reader's, carried in by a headnote nobody attributes to the poet. I read it as the house page's author does, the ordinary worry, with the loss in the silence after; and I hold that the soul's-road reading was inevitable once Issa placed the verse among the poems for his dead daughter, because a line that withholds is a line that receives. On the attribution I take the position the Japanese reference takes. The verse is not in the collections Chiyo saw printed; it first appears two generations after her death, in an anecdote book, packaged with a second legend; and its authority in English rests on Issa's grief and on Hearn's and Chamberlain's prose, not on a witness. It is the verse Issa wrote her name under.

References

  1. 竹内玄玄一 Takeuchi Gengen'ichi『俳家奇人談』巻下, 江戸書林, 文化十三年 (1816), 千代女 entry, leaf 十二 recto. NIJL 国書データベース, biblio 100173968, scan 104 (富山県立図書館 中島文庫 copy).
  2. 『俳家奇人談』, 今古堂 typeset, 1892, printed p. 百四十二. National Diet Library pid 993059, scan 74. https://dl.ndl.go.jp/pid/993059/1/74
  3. 小林一茶『おらが春』(written 1819), 1878 Nagano printing. NIJL biblio 200003967, scan 34.
  4. Basil Hall Chamberlain, Bashō and the Japanese Poetical Epigram, Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. 30, 1902, pp. 300–301, no. 43; reprinted in Japanese Poetry, John Murray, 1910.
  5. 教育研鑽会 編『ほまれ 花の巻』, 1912, § 三 加賀の千代女, pp. 四十四–四十六. National Diet Library pid 1169427, scan 27.
  6. 佐々醒雪 Sassa Seisetsu・巌谷小波 Iwaya Sazanami 校『俳人逸話紀行集』, 博文館, 1915, 俳家奇人談 巻の下. National Diet Library pid 950168, scan 216.
  7. 沼波瓊音 Numanami Keion『俳句の作り方味い方入門』, 1940, 俳句略史, p. 一七六. National Diet Library pid 1116343, scan 100.
  8. R. H. Blyth, A History of Haiku, vol. 1, Hokuseido, Tokyo, 1963, pp. 218–223.
  9. Lafcadio Hearn, A Japanese Miscellany, Boston, Little, Brown, 1901, Dragon-flies, pp. 117–118.
  10. 安倍季雄 Abe Sueo 述『家庭教育講演』, 1937, pp. 二–三. National Diet Library pid 1909710, scan 6.
  11. Harold G. Henderson, An Introduction to Haiku, Garden City, Doubleday Anchor, 1958, pp. 82–83.
  12. 宮森麻太郎 Asatarō Miyamori, An Anthology of Haiku Ancient and Modern, Tokyo, Maruzen, 1932, no. 377, pp. 420–422, preface p. ii.
  13. Daniel C. Buchanan, One Hundred Famous Haiku, Tokyo, Japan Publications, 1973, p. 67.
  14. 精選版 日本国語大辞典, s.v. 蜻蛉釣, at kotobank.
  15. J. C. Hepburn, A Japanese and English Dictionary, Shanghai, American Presbyterian Mission Press, 1867, s.v. MADE; and A Japanese-English and English-Japanese Dictionary, fourth edition, Z. P. Maruya, Tokyo, 1888, s.v. MADE. Internet Archive japaneseenglishe00hepbuoft. https://archive.org/details/japaneseenglishe00hepbuoft
  16. The Japan Weekly Mail, Yokohama, 15 December 1894, A Novel Dragon-fly.
  17. Inazō Nitobe, Bushido: The Soul of Japan, Philadelphia, Leeds & Biddle, 1900, p. 71.
  18. Clara A. Walsh, The Master-Singers of Japan, London, John Murray, 1910, p. 99.
  19. William N. Porter, A Year of Japanese Epigrams, Oxford, 1911.
  20. Kenneth Rexroth and Ikuko Atsumi, Women Poets of Japan, New York, New Directions, 1977, the Fukuda Chiyo-ni section.
  21. 浜口恵璋 Hamaguchi Eshō『女性と宗教』, 文明堂, 1906, § 四六 加賀の千代尼. National Diet Library pid 816716, scan 72.
  22. 中本恕堂 Nakamoto Jodō『加賀の千代真蹟集』, 1966, pp. 15 and 65. HathiTrust wu.89107420770.
  23. 改訂新版 世界大百科事典 (平凡社), s.v. 千代女, at kotobank.
  24. 加賀千代女, Japanese Wikipedia, § 誤説.
  25. 『閨秀俳家全集』, 聚英閣, 1922, reprinting 千代尼句集 (1764) at printed pp. 81–116 and 松の聲 (1771) at pp. 117–140. National Diet Library pid 970129.
  26. William Elliot Griffis, Dux Christus: An Outline Study of Japan, 1904, quoting Nitobe. archive.org duxchristusoutli0000grif, text layer.
  27. The vote of thanks following Chamberlain's paper, Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. 30, 1902.
  28. R. H. Blyth, Haiku, vol. 4, Tokyo, Hokuseido, 1952, § Dragon-flies, pp. 71–78.
  29. Adam L. Kern, The Penguin Book of Haiku, Penguin Classics, 2018, p. 235.
  30. The house scroll page, SKU H3027SS, title and description by Timothy L. Jackowski.

Authors