Shun-hai Jury Prize Six Haiku [White Prize]

Hello everyone, welcome.
August is already here in the blink of an eye.
I think this every year, but it's hot, isn't it?
There are classifications like 'summer day,' 'midsummer day,' and 'sweltering day,' and apparently 25°C or higher is a 'summer day,' 30°C or higher is a 'midsummer day,' and 35°C or higher is a 'sweltering day.'
It's been nothing but sweltering days lately, and around 2 PM, the hottest time, the real-feel temperature is over 40°C, right? If 40°C were your body temperature, you'd be at the level where you'd need to take fever-reducing medicine!
Even though it's like that, it's hard to believe that we'll soon reach Risshu (the start of autumn) and it will be autumn.
This year, Risshu is August 8th, so summer lasts until August 7th!

In the midst of all this, welcome to my page, the 'Jury Prize White Prize.' Thank you for coming to see me, even though I don't come around the note community much lately.

Now, I will proceed with the announcement of the White Prize.

Two eggs in the chicken coop, the wind is fragrant

The seasonal word is 'kaze kaoru' (fragrant wind).
It is a seasonal word for mid-summer.

It's a lovely seasonal word, isn't it? 'Mid-summer' refers to a seasonal word that applies to any time in summer, from early summer to late summer. Related terms (you can think of them as other ways of saying 'fragrant wind') include 'kunpu' (fragrant breeze), 'kaoru kaze' (fragrant wind), and 'kaze no ka' (scent of the wind). Looking at the characters, it is also a seasonal word that stimulates the sense of smell, as if the fresh, lush scent of new greenery and young leaves is reaching you along with the tactile sensation of the wind blowing through the summer. It feels refreshing and bright, so it's the perfect seasonal word to entrust with the bright thoughts the author felt.

Now, let's look at the twelve syllables excluding the seasonal word. 'Torigoya ni tamago ga futatsu' (Two eggs in the chicken coop) - this is likely a real scene. It is simply reciting the fact that when the author went to the chicken coop, there were two eggs there.
However, when you add the seasonal word 'fragrant wind' to this fact, poetry is born there instantly. The joy the author felt upon seeing the two eggs in the chicken coop, the brilliance of the pure white eggs placed in the coop, the smell of the coop, the brightness, the texture—all these things come rushing in as sensations. This is truly a haiku that trusts in the power of the seasonal word.

Let's dig deeper.

First, from the place 'chicken coop,' you can imagine the chickens kept there and the figure of the person raising them. And you might also imagine the act of caring for the chickens, the eggs laid, and perhaps even a life where one is grateful for the chickens themselves.
And there are two eggs in that chicken coop. Since chickens seem to lay an egg at most once a day, there were probably several hens, and the eggs laid by two of them were there. The figure of the subject of the poem carefully picking up the eggs as if to cradle them comes to mind. One imagines a person who lives while facing various lives within the great bosom of nature. Such reverent thoughts of the subject toward nature are condensed into the seasonal word 'fragrant wind'.

The 'kire' (cutting) of this haiku is between the middle seven and the lower five. It is after the numeral 'two.' I want to draw thoughts from this as well. The fact that there is a cut means that there is the author's emotion there. In such cases, it can deepen your understanding to try replacing or swapping words.

For example,

[Original Haiku] Two eggs in the chicken coop, the wind is fragrant

1. One egg in the chicken coop, the wind is fragrant

2. Two eggs in the chicken coop, the wind is fragrant

3. The wind is fragrant, two eggs in the chicken coop

Something like this.

When you compare them like this, in the case of 1, it feels like the first egg has finally been laid, and in 2, the focus goes to the eggs rather than the number, but compared to the original, it feels like the eggs are somehow scattered apart (a white sensation). Then, what kind of feeling do you get with 3? ...It's good to think about it in that way.

Oh, and also, changing the particles is one method.

4. The eggs of the chicken coop, the wind is fragrant

5. The eggs in the chicken coop are two, the wind is fragrant

6. To the chicken coop, two eggs, the wind is fragrant

When it comes to 6, don't you feel like you've become a chicken yourself? Like you've just laid eggs in the chicken coop, haha.

Anyway, the author chose this particle and this word order amidst all that. If you read deeply into that, the appreciation of the haiku changes again, doesn't it?

So, I've written at length, but was the author Ayuta-chan? I read the submission article later, and with lines like 'Living ordinarily, grilling eggplants ordinarily,' her true-to-life haiku are charming, aren't they?
Oh yes, the 'Asunaro Letters ~with Haiku~' exchanged between Ayuta-chan, Tsugumi-chan, and Roha-chan is definitely a correspondence you should read.

Ayuta-chan, thank you for the wonderful haiku.

The quiet eyebrows of a nursing infant, summer is near

The seasonal word is 'summer is near,' a seasonal word for late spring.

Since the Shun Cup is a summer tournament, strictly speaking, the season would be off. However, that is the broad-mindedness of everyone's haiku tournament. Because the Shun Cup welcomes haiku that feel like summer even if they are seasonless, we will allow this late spring haiku that includes the character for summer—well, that's the reasoning.

Now, let's look at parts other than the seasonal word 'summer is near.'

The phrasing 'the quiet eyebrows of a nursing infant' in the upper and middle sections. At first, I read it as (chinomigo no shizukana mayu) and thought it was short on syllables, but 'eyebrows' can be read as 'mamie,' right? This reading appears in the works of Kyoka Izumi and Soseki Natsume, but I couldn't find that reading in the Kanji-pedia. I wonder if it's a phonetic substitution or a dialect. I found an article about it being a Tokyo dialect, but the truth is uncertain.

A nursing infant, in other words, a baby's quiet eyebrows—that makes me remember a bit of the past. I vividly recall the times when a baby who had been crying intensely would finally calm down after nursing, and after I held them upright to burp them, they would fall fast asleep in my arms.
This might also be thanks to the adjectival verb 'quiet.' In the first place, eyebrows are never noisy, so 'quiet eyebrows' is a given, but the fact that the author dared to use it is skillful.

Adjectives and adjectival verbs can easily become explanatory and subjective, so if you use them, there's no room for further expansion; they are one of the 'cautionary words' for haiku.

For example, if you say a nursing infant's 'pretty' eyebrows or 'energetic' eyebrows, it feels like you're saying too much about what you want to convey. It's better to describe the situation as it is, like 'eyebrows twitching.' However, the phrasing 'quiet' here gives the impression that while it refers to the eyebrows, it also expresses the peace of life and the tranquility of the surroundings. This might be a synergistic effect created by the combination with the seasonal word 'summer is near.'

'Summer is near' is also a seasonal word that includes the author's expectation that summer is coming soon. Summer is the season when life shines the brightest. I think the point of this haiku is that the healthy growth of the baby is superimposed as a double image.

The author is Rina-chan. You're a net-print friend of Utsusupi-chan, right? Yes, as expected, it was brilliant. Thank you for the wonderful haiku.

Late summer light, remaining white under the armpit

The seasonal word for this haiku is 'late summer light,' which, as the name suggests, is a seasonal word for late summer.
Late summer light is the light at the end of summer heading toward autumn, so while it shows a slight decline in intensity compared to the height of summer, as I touched upon at the beginning of this article, if you consider that summer lasts until 8/7 this year, you can see it is by no means weak and is still a hot light.
Let me add a little more explanation. If you compare the seasons to a human life, assuming a lifespan of 80 years (though it's said to be the era of the 100-year life, I'll keep it simple), spring is 0-20 years old (youth), summer is 21-40 years old (prime of life), autumn is 41-60 years old (mature age), and winter is 61-80 years old (old age).
Late summer means around 40.
In other words, late summer is a period accompanied by a bit of melancholy as one finishes their energetic era and moves to the next, and light accompanied by such sentiment is 'late summer light.' (The sense of white).

Now, unlike the previous two haiku, the seasonal word in this one appears right at the beginning.

First, the reader is enveloped by the upper five syllables, 'late summer light.' From there, the middle seven syllables, 'remaining white.' By inserting a situational explanation that piques the reader's interest—suggesting something has remained white—and connecting it to the lower five syllables, it lands on the reveal: 'armpit.'

Ending with a noun like 'armpit' is called 'taigendome' (noun-ending). This technique is used to emphasize words or leave a lingering resonance.

The fact that the armpit remains white implies, conversely, that the rest of the body has tanned and turned dark. That said, it wasn't as if they went out to tan on purpose; it is the result of getting tanned unknowingly while going about daily life. Perhaps while bathed in the late summer light, they caught a glimpse of their own armpit in a mirror and were unexpectedly struck by the stark whiteness that remained.
Coupled with the seasonal word 'late summer light,' one can faintly sense a melancholy for the summer that is passing by indiscriminately in that partial whiteness. It is indeed the power of the seasonal word 'late summer light' that brings a vivid impression to the white-remaining armpit in the image, while turning the other colors sepia or monochrome.

By the way, I felt a slight eroticism in the white-remaining armpit, but that might not have been the author's intention, so I won't dwell on it too much, haha.

The author is Hanakaze-chan. Oh, so these were the three haiku. None of them, at first glance, possess a straightforward, innocent brightness, but they are haiku where one can always feel light or life within a base of darkness. I like the sensibility of all of them. Thank you for the wonderful haiku.

Putting in contacts after school young maple

The seasonal word is 'young maple' (waka-kaede), a seasonal word for early summer.
It is a seasonal word that is beautiful to the eye, evoking the fresh green of maple leaves. Because it is a seasonal word that feels like bright colors and youthful vitality (a sense of white), placing it at the end of the haiku allows that resonance to linger. This is also the effect of the noun-ending I mentioned earlier.

Now, let's look at the twelve syllables other than the seasonal word.

Upper five 'contacts,' middle seven 'putting in after school'... I tried dividing them for convenience, but it feels strange when put into words. Especially 'putting in after school,' haha. It makes you wonder what they are putting in. If you think you have to read it with breaks like this, your mind naturally gets bound by '5 syllables' and '7 syllables,' making it difficult to think freely. In this case, if you were to divide by meaning, it could be divided as 'putting in contacts' / 'after school,' an 8-syllable / 4-syllable split. If you realize you can freely create the 12 syllables excluding the seasonal word like this, your ideas will expand. Therefore,

I strongly recommend not leaving a space for a break like this haiku: 'contacts putting in after school young maple',
instead of
'contacts putting in after school young maple'.

Now that we've covered the points of writing haiku, let's return to the poem. For this haiku, I want to consider the 12 syllables of the upper five and middle seven together. First, from the word 'after school' which indicates time, we know that the subject of the poem is a student.
For example, if they were a company employee, they wouldn't say 'after school,' would they?
We also know that they are in the act of putting in contact lenses after school.
This means they might have been wearing glasses until then. Why would they wear glasses during the day and put in contacts after school? I imagined they might be doing sports-related club activities, like basketball, volleyball, or soccer.

Or perhaps it's the moment they went to buy contacts for the first time after school and are about to put them in for the first time. That's exciting, isn't it?
I'm scared of putting my fingers in my eyes, so I don't wear contacts. My son tried putting them in once, but he had a hard time taking them out and hasn't worn them since, so maybe he caught my cowardice.

With the first interpretation, the youthfulness of the 'young maple' comes into play, and with the latter, the freshness of the 'young maple' comes into play, so either way, I thought it was a haiku that fully understands and utilizes the function of the seasonal word.

The author is, oh, Utsusupi-chan. Well, that explains why they understand the seasonal word so well. Thank you for the wonderful haiku.

Buying a new edition of Salinger summer vacation

The seasonal word for the next haiku is 'summer vacation'.
School summer vacation starts around July 20th, the old Marine Day. Marine Day has now moved to the third Monday, creating a long weekend with Saturday and Sunday, but it used to be the 20th (if I recall correctly). Well, that makes it a late summer seasonal word.
The time right before summer vacation starts is the most exciting, isn't it? Since you have over a month to yourself, it's natural to be excited. But be careful, because if you let your guard down, summer vacation will be over in a flash (me).

By the way, do company employees have summer vacations? School teachers are supposed to be able to take five days of summer leave. It's not just during summer vacation; you can take it after September starts, but since schools close during the Obon week, which is called Refresh Week, you naturally have to take it then, so it's a bit inconvenient.

The reason I'm talking about this is that I wasn't sure if it was okay for the subject of the poem to be a student based on the seasonal word 'summer vacation'.
Actually, I suspect the subject of the poem might not be a student.
Because it's a new edition of Salinger. Speaking of Salinger, it's 'The Catcher in the Rye,' right? If it were the Haruki Murakami translation, I remember it being popular when I was a teacher at my second or third school, and the new edition of 'The Catcher in the Rye' was also released many years ago, so either way, they are already an adult.
Anyway, the subject of the poem must have bought the new edition at a bookstore, determined to read that famous 'Catcher in the Rye' during this summer vacation. I really empathize with the excitement of summer vacation starting and the determination to read a long novel, and since people who have read Salinger naturally imagine the content in the background, it's a clever way to construct it. If you ask if other works wouldn't work, I think it's perfect for the seasonal word 'summer vacation' to remind us of 'The Catcher in the Rye,' which depicts the wavering thoughts of adolescence. It was a haiku that made me think I should read Salinger too. Thank you.

Well then, the author is Chie-chan! Congratulations. You've appeared for the White Prize again, haha.

You've really become a regular, haven't you? Let's see. Oh, the haiku about the dagger and the silence are also by Chie-chan? Since the numbers were close, I thought they might be the same person, so I chose other haiku instead, but they were all three excellent haiku. Well done.

The song of 'Shell Ginger' at the schoolhouse, Okinawa Memorial Day

The last haiku is this one. The seasonal word is 'Okinawa Memorial Day,' so it's a seasonal word for mid-summer.

Okinawa Memorial Day is June 23rd. It is a memorial day to comfort the spirits of the victims of the Battle of Okinawa and to pray for peace. It is said that this day marks the end of the organized war between the American and Japanese armies in Okinawa. After that, Okinawa was placed under American administration until its reversion in 1972.

What kind of song is the 'Shell Ginger' song sung at the schoolhouse on such a memorial day? I didn't know it well, so I googled it.
As expected, it's an Okinawan song, and from the lyrics, I learned it was written based on the Battle of Okinawa. Reading various articles, it seems to be a song that has been beloved in Okinawa since elementary school.

Still, what surprised me was the bright atmosphere of the song. Even though it's based on the Battle of Okinawa, which caused so many tragedies, the melody doesn't make you feel that; perhaps it's because it's a major-key melody. You'd think it would use a minor key, though.

Moreover, it's in triple time. This rhythm also feels somewhat bright. I hear 4/4 time more often, so this also surprised me. It was a song that made me feel the strength of the Okinawan people's hearts.

This haiku needs no explanation.
The fact that the song 'Shell Ginger,' a song of peace that still resonates in schoolhouses, echoes on Okinawa Memorial Day must be the very wish for peace and anti-war.

Considering the friction between Ukraine and Russia, and the recent friction between Japan and other countries, I think this is a sentiment that we should now seriously think about and pass on.

I thought the author was someone with ties to Okinawa, of course, but it's Sazanami-chan? That's impressive.

Actually, to my shame, I have never studied Okinawa Memorial Day properly until now. I only passed over it lightly in social studies class. So, even though I knew about the end of the war on August 15th, I never spent June 23rd, Okinawa Memorial Day, with any awareness.

This haiku became a trigger for me to keep in mind Okinawa, where the only land battle took place. Thank you for the wonderful haiku.

In closing

With this Shun-hai, the Everyone's Haiku Tournament will be frozen for a while.

Really, I have nothing but respect and gratitude for everyone involved in the operation and planning of this tournament.

I myself have been drifting away from Note a bit because the weight of my real life has changed, but thank you for letting me be involved as one of the judges all this time.

In this tournament, deeply appreciating each haiku led to looking at my own haiku, and I think I have grown significantly myself.

From now on, I intend to continue on, albeit slowly and steadily, while occasionally showing my face on Note.

The harvest from this haiku competition was being able to interact and connect with various people, and discovering the joy of haiku, which made me want to learn even more.

Shun-kun, thank you for your hard work as the host. You will probably be a junior high student by next year, and as you move on to a new stage, you might step away from note, but I believe the experiences you had with everyone here will surely live on within you. Please continue to enjoy your creative activities.

Well then, thank you for sticking with this long post until the end. This was White!