the childless woman,
how tender she is
to the dolls!
© Ransetsu (Tr. Blyth)
It’s a gorgeous haiku full of compassion for this woman without children. He sees her taking care for the dolls as were they real children. How much pain and sadness this woman will have had as she couldn’t have children or maybe she had children, but they died … it’s not clear.
Use your imagination to see this scene in front of your eyes and try to write/compose an all new haiku following the classical rules:
+ 5-7-5 syllables
+ a seasonword (kigo)
+ a cuttingword (kireji, in western mostly interpunction)
+ a moment as short as the sound of a pebble thrown in water
+ interchangable first and third line
+ a deeper meaning
porcelain skin
name chosen years ago
afraid she will break
Afraid she will break
name chosen years ago
porcelain skin
****
Kigo I would choose is “porcelain” as it is represents a white frailty like the coming snowflakes
The Kireji would be “break”
Inner meaning is something the reader finds but for me this represents the woman and the child. The woman has tried for years, having miscarriage after miscarriage. The child awaited for (or perhaps in the womb) is fragile, tentative…
This is in response to the prompt at Chevrefeuille’s Carpe Diem.
It’s always hard breaking for anyone who wants children but are unable to have any.
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It’s always heartbreaking for anyone who wants children but are unable to have any.
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Reblogged this on Human Relationships.
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Two sides to every coin. Those who want and can’t – those who do and brake the dolls they get. There is that third side of those lucky enough to love what they get.
As for the TV set of ‘I Love Lucy’ in that era there were many a home set that way too. The elite had separate rooms – but that is going way back. Kind of odd how living together folks were, when they were actually living apart – just two maybe three generations ago. But then there is the flip side of those in poorer communities who had several people sharing the same bed.
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That’s true. Both my maternal and paternal grandparents had separate bedrooms; they said it was because of snoring who knows – chilly relationships stayed together.
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Sad!
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Hi Moonie ~~ I like the China doll substitute. Of course it will only substitute somewhat for her, we all pity the lady. And she had better take care of that doll, drop it on a carpeted floor it should bounce, but the tile floor will end it.
I liked your Crimea posts, I peeked a little. We spent the day, August 15, 2013, in Odessa and then the 16th in Yalta. Both were beautiful cities with busy, beautiful people. We had no idea or hint of the turmoil that was to come. We were on a cruise, the Pacific Princess, from Venice to Istanbul and on to Yalta and then back to Athens. It was a fun time, our daughter and 4-year-old grand-daughter came with us.
http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/search/label/2013-Venice-to-Athens-via-the-Black-Sea
I think there are more pages but my ‘Old Blogger” doesn’ t format for older pages.
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Oh yes, I think you very much for the comment on my Buddha post. I am not often than strong about my feelings about religion on my blog. I think I scared most away.
..
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http://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/search/label/Istanbul
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I like looking at both poems. The one about the childless woman tugs at my heart. The second one reminds me that my mother had a porcelain doll. I have it now…somewhere.
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The first few weeks of my own pregnancy were very, very tentative — long story, but I was afraid to think too much about him for the first few weeks — so afraid I’d lose him. (Thankfully he is a healthy 13 year old today!) But this poem really spoke to me — beautifully done.
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in faintly drawn lines
the frosty streaks linger there
on sculptured tresses
__In my humble thought, the three lines should never be… a full sentence. I thank you for your visits, Moonie! _m
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agreed – I have so much to learn with haiku always appreciate your words Doug
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