Tones of Haiku: Sabi

by Tom Arima

Knowing the tones, or flavors, of haiku is important to the haiku poet. Tones not only give layers of nuances (resonances) to the haiku, but also lift an otherwise common or average haiku to a more significant level.

Along with “yugen,” “sabi” is one of the two most salient and powerful tones of haiku. Sabi deepens and extends a haiku, making it resonate quietly yet dynamically, rippling like soft waves rolling to distant shores.

Sabi in haiku is a quiet tone imbued with a sense of passing time. “Sabi” in Japanese means rust; “Sabiru,” rusting. Innate in rusting is a realization of what once was, what is now, and, perhaps, what might be. Inherent in its meaning, too, is the awesome power of the unstoppable passage of time.

In addition, sabi intuitively reflects an awareness that time separates even more definitely than distance of place or feeling—regardless of whether that separation is physical, mental, or spiritual. It deepens this separation and releases a variety of emotions.

“Sabi” also means to wane; “sabishi,” loneliness. Hence, it evokes or spawns a sense of longing, emptiness, unfulfillment, and perhaps nostalgia. This in turn encompasses a sense of solitude, resignation, and benign acceptance. Sabi also reflects “mujo,” or impermanence, which is one of the fundamental truths of nature. Indisputably, mujo governs all life, including humans, who are also a part of nature.

But sabi in haiku is not pity. It transcends pity. It seeks to find beauty in the passing of time, in rusting, loneliness, and in mujo. It seeks to emphasize this beauty poetically.

Natsugusa ya The summer grasses

Tsuwamono domo ga Of dauntless warrior’s dreams

Yume no ato This, the aftermath

This poem is by Bashō, one of the great pillars of haiku. There is forlornness here, a loneliness and resignation. Perhaps, too, a realization of the omnipotence of nature and time. Prevailing, too, is a sense of futility in that all things change, bound by impermanence.

Hanamori ya In flower garden

Shiroki kashira wo The caretakers putting their

Tsuki awase White heads together

This haiku is by Kyorai, one of Bashō’s disciples. “Hana” (“flowers” in Japanese) usually means cherry blossoms, which symbolize samurai and the shortness of life as well as beauty. In this haiku, the contrast between the white-haired caretakers and the flowers is subtle but striking, intensifying the silent, unstoppable passage of time. The laying together of the white heads suggests a comforting resignation and acceptance of aging and the inevitable. Also prevailing is the feeling of loneliness or emptiness and of unrelenting change. To say the caretakers are gossiping or even contemplating how to take care of the cherry blossoms is unlikely since the poem lacks enough clarity for this interpretation.

     Sabi and yugen are two of the most penetrating tones of haiku. Still, other tones of haiku are also revealing and interesting. They range from wabi, hosomi, and shibumi to others, each with its own distinctive flavor. They all heighten the quality of haiku. The knowledge and use of haiku tones is invaluable. Much can be gained in knowing the tones of haiku.