Japanese Haiku for Learners: Counting 5-7-5, Kigo, Kireji and Three Classics

Counting 5-7-5 in on, not syllables

The first thing to unlearn is the English idea of a syllable. Japanese poetry counts on, the beats represented by the kana. A single kana is one on, whether it is a vowel, a consonant plus vowel or the nasal n. The consequences are simple but easy to forget: a long vowel counts as two, so Tōkyō is to-o-kyo-o, four on; the small tsu that doubles a consonant counts as one, so kitte is ki-t-te, three; and small ya, yu and yo merge with the kana before them, so kyo is one on, not two. English speakers naturally hear Tokyo as three syllables and kitte as two, so the count goes wrong unless you tap it out.

Reading aloud with even beats makes the count audible. Try furuike ya on your fingers: fu-ru-i-ke-ya, five; ka-wa-zu-to-bi-ko-mu, seven; mi-zu-no-o-to, five. Japanese readers feel those seventeen beats the way English speakers feel a limerick.

Poems that go over are jiamari and poems that fall short are jitarazu. Both are accepted when the poet chooses them, and Issa in particular was relaxed about the count.

Kigo: the season word and the saijiki

A traditional haiku contains a kigo, a word that fixes the season. Some are obvious, such as sakura for spring and yuki for winter. Others follow conventions a learner must simply learn: tsuki, the moon, means autumn unless another word says otherwise; kawazu, frog, is spring; semi, cicada, is summer. The New Year is often treated as a fifth season with its own words.

These conventions are collected in a saijiki, a season-word almanac arranged by season and topic. Every serious poet owns one, and there are free online versions. For a learner it is also a beautifully organised vocabulary book: weather, plants, animals, festivals and food, each with example poems.

Poems without a season word are called muki, seasonless, and are accepted in modern haiku, but the classics almost always have one. When you read a haiku, find the kigo first; it tells you where to stand.

Kireji: ya, kana and keri

A kireji, cutting word, divides the haiku into two parts and adds a tone of voice. Ya normally ends the first line and presents a scene, then pauses; the rest of the poem answers or contrasts with it. Kana ends the poem with wonder or gentle emotion, a lingering pause. Keri is a classical auxiliary ending a verb, roughly a past tense with a note of discovery.

Cutting words have no dictionary meaning, which is why translations differ so much. Hear them as punctuation: ya as a colon, kana as a soft exclamation, keri as a full stop with a raised eyebrow.

The classical grammar you will meet

Classical haiku use bungo, literary Japanese, and a few of its forms come up constantly. The verb endings nu and tari mark completion, roughly the modern ta. Shi is the classical form of the adjective ending i before a noun, so shiroki hana is shiroi hana. Nari is the classical desu. The negative is zu or nu rather than nai, and the particle no can replace ga as a subject marker, which it still does in modern relative clauses.

You will also see historical kana spelling, rekishiteki kanazukai, in older printings. Modern editions usually add furigana in current spelling, so choose one of those to begin with. Recognising a handful of endings is enough to read the classics with a gloss beside you.

Three famous haiku read line by line

The three poems below are in the public domain and known to almost every Japanese adult. Read each aloud, count the on, find the kigo and the kireji, then look at the literal meaning.

Bashō, 1686: furuike ya, kawazu tobikomu, mizu no oto. Old pond: a frog jumps in, the sound of water. Kawazu is the kigo, spring. Ya is the kireji, closing the first line. Tobikomu is a plain present-tense verb. The whole poem is stillness, one movement and the sound that follows.

Buson, eighteenth century: na no hana ya, tsuki wa higashi ni, hi wa nishi ni. Rape blossoms: the moon in the east, the sun in the west. Na no hana is the spring kigo. Ya cuts after the first line. The grammar is just two location phrases with ni, and the image is a wide yellow field at dusk with the full moon rising as the sun sets.

Issa, early nineteenth century: suzume no ko, soko noke soko noke, o-uma ga tōru. Baby sparrow, out of the way, out of the way, the lord's horse is coming through. Suzume no ko is the spring kigo. There is no kireji; the cut is made by the change of voice, from description to the poet warning the bird. Noke is the imperative of nokeru, to move aside, and the honorific on o-uma tells you the horse belongs to someone important. The last line has seven on, a jiamari Issa clearly did not mind.

Writing a simple modern haiku

You do not need classical grammar to write a haiku today; much modern haiku is written in everyday Japanese. Start with a season word. Add one thing you actually saw or heard, as concrete as possible: not sadness but a cold cup of tea. Arrange the words into 5-7-5, counting in kana, with the season word in one part and the image in the other.

Here is one built that way: asa no eki, kōhī no yuge, fuyu no sora. Morning station, steam from the coffee, winter sky. Count it: a-sa-no-e-ki, five; ko-o-hi-i-no-yu-ge, seven; fu-yu-no-so-ra, five. Fuyu no sora is the kigo, and the break comes before the last line. It is not a masterpiece, and it does not need to be.

• Pick a kigo from the table or a saijiki
• Write down one concrete thing you noticed today
• Put the words in hiragana and count to 5-7-5
• Place the season word and the image in different parts
• Read it aloud, and cut any word that explains rather than shows
• Give it a title only if you want; traditional haiku have none

To share it, say ikku yomimasu, read it twice at an even pace, and let the silence after it do the work. Japanese listeners are generous with learners' haiku.

Haiku vocabulary for talking about poems

If you want to discuss haiku with Japanese people, join a kukai, a haiku gathering, or read a commentary, these are the terms you will need.

Senryū matters because much of what you see in newspapers and online, such as the popular office-worker senryū contests, is senryū rather than haiku: same count, no season word, a joke at the end.

Common mistakes when reading and writing haiku

The first mistake is counting English syllables. The second is treating kireji as words to translate; they are tone. The third is assuming every haiku is about nature and serenity; Issa wrote about fleas, and modern haiku cover trains, phones and supermarkets.

When writing, learners tend to explain their feelings. Sabishii, lonely, is almost always weaker than the image that made you feel lonely. Trust the reader and count in kana.