An old silent pond

A frog jumps into the pond

Splash! Silence again.

Matsuo Bashō (1686)

Translation by R. H. Blyth

A haiku is a short form of Japanese poetry which began in the 17th century. Matsuo Basho is widely considered the originator of the form. His work took the opening verse of a longer poetic form, the hokku, and treated it as a poem in itself. The longer form was called a renku. Basho’s use of the hokku as a standalone verse led to what we now call the haiku.

A traditional haiku has three lines. The structure is fixed. Five syllables in the first line, seven in the second, five in the third. In classical Japanese poetry, that pattern was a formal requirement. But structure isn’t the only rule. Traditional haiku also include two specific features. One is called kiru and the other is kigo.
Kiru means cutting. In poetry, it’s shown with a word that creates a pause or break. This word is called the kireji; it separates two images or ideas. It also shows how those two parts relate. Western poetry uses a similar idea. A caesura. A full pause. In haiku, the cut adds weight. It tells the reader that what comes next must be seen in contrast.

Kigo is a seasonal reference. It’s often drawn from nature but it has cultural weight. Certain words are tied to specific times of year in Japanese tradition. A cherry blossom signals spring. A cicada signals summer. The kigo places the poem in time and links it to memory.

In early Western readings, this seasonal link led to a false idea. Many believed the haiku was a type of nature poem. In truth, the kigo isn’t about nature. It’s about time. It situates the poem. It anchors the image in a specific moment.

The form reached Europe in the early 1800s. Hendrik Doeff, a Dutchman based in Nagasaki, brought it back. From there, it spread. Haiku are now written in many languages. Jack Kerouac wrote them in English. Octavio Paz wrote them in Spanish. Today, haiku are popular in the United States, the UK, Northern Europe and the Balkans.

Modern Japanese haiku often move away from the fixed syllable count. These are called gendai. They also leave out the seasonal reference. What they keep is the cut. The kiru still matters, even when other rules fall away.

English-language haiku tend to be shorter than Japanese ones. Seventeen syllables in Japanese often become twelve or fewer in translation. That is due to how the two languages work. Some English haiku published in journals use only ten or eleven syllables. Some still follow the five-seven-five pattern. Others don’t. Both approaches are accepted.

The strength of the haiku lies in its brevity. The form is small, but not simple. It compresses thought. It suggests more than it states. A haiku is successful when it creates space around an image. The reader fills in what isn’t said.

Basho once wrote that a haiku which reveals seventy or eighty percent is good. One that reveals only fifty or sixty percent is better. The reader returns to it. The image stays open. The meaning is never finished.

This principle has endured. It still shapes how haiku are written. The aim isn’t to describe. It’s to evoke. The poet doesn’t explain. The poem offers a moment, then steps back.

Haiku has changed across time and language. But one thing holds. The form works because of what it leaves out. Its beauty is not in what’s shown. It’s in what is withheld.