Firefly Haiku

Mikiko Noji

Come! Come! I call.

But the fireflies

Flash away into the darkness.

Onitsura

There is something so wistful about this poem. Here we are, reaching for something beautiful even as it disappears. I don't know of any tradition other than Japanese haiku that conveys such depth of feeling without making any mention of it. I don't understand how they do it. Nature speaks. Silence and absence become an oratorical device. And this is only the translated form. Can you imagine what it must be like in it's original language? Think of all the nuances, the cultural imagery that has been lost in translation, and yet, such exquisite tracery remains. If poetry is a distillation of language and meaning, I can't help but think maybe haiku is one of its highest forms. To say the most with the least? Surely that is difficult above all.