Seasons in Verse: The Poetic Significance of Wafu Getsumei in Haiku
By Tamaki Hoshi
The changing seasons in Japan are like a quiet melody of nature, each transition flowing seamlessly into the next. The first blush of cherry blossoms chirps spring’s arrival, cicadas sing of summer’s heat, red maple leaves dance into autumn, and the soft hush of snow heralds winter. These shifts, subtle yet profound, have long shaped Japanese aesthetics and approach to everyday life.
Traditional Japanese calendars reflected this harmony with nature. Drawing on China’s nijushi sekki, or “24 solar terms,” Japan refined these divisions to suit its unique climate, creating zassetsu—seasonal markers that captured the beginnings, endings, and iconic moments of each season. This intricate system could be divided into as many as seventy-two micro-seasons, where changes as delicate as the first buds of reeds or the early twitter of insects were celebrated.
Though the adoption of the Western Gregorian calendar during the Meiji era (1868-1912) replaced this traditional system with a standardized division of 12 months and four fixed seasons, the Japanese reverence for nature’s transitions remained. This enduring sensitivity is evident in various aspects of Japanese culture, such as culinary traditions and philosophical thought, as well as artistic expressions like haiku.
Haiku, though rooted in premodern traditions, is a modern Japanese poetic form that consists of 17 syllables arranged in a 5-7-5 pattern. Originating from the collaborative haikai poetry popular during the Edo period (1600–1868), haiku was formalized by the modern poet Masaoka Shiki (1867–1902), who emphasized its focus on realism and nature, as reflected in haiku’s sensitivity to seasonal changes.
The collaborative origins of haiku are demonstrated in its reliance on kigo—a “seasonal term” used as a poetic device to evoke rich allusions, historical references, cultural meanings, and emotions. The kigo is essential in haiku, bringing depth and nuance through a single word or phrase. In this subtractive poetic form, every word counts. The kigo enables poets to capture vivid scenes with minimal language, creating powerful, instantaneous bursts of imagery—a hallmark of haiku’s charm.
Kigo is traditionally divided into four seasonal categories—spring, summer, autumn, and winter—made of sub-categories like plants, animals, rituals, and natural phenomena. One notable category of kigo is the wafu getsumei, or “traditional Japanese month names,” based on the old Japanese lunar calendar. Unlike numerical designations (e.g., 1 as January and 2 as February), these names use imagery to depict each month's seasonal experience. The wafu getsumei calendrical system, though adapted to align with the Gregorian calendar, highlights the profound cultural importance of nature and the close observation of its subtle changes in shaping Japanese perceptions of the seasons.
Below are twelve haiku, each containing a wafu getsumei as its kigo (translations by the author). Through these seasonal verses, the twelve months of the year unfold as seen through the eyes of master haiku poets, offering timeless reflections that both supplement and challenge our contemporary understandings of the changing seasons.
Spring kigo
In Japan, spring is regarded as the start of the new year, a sentiment reflected in the ordering of the phrase shunkashuto (春夏秋冬), which translates to "spring, summer, autumn, winter" and is commonly used to reference the four seasons. In the wafu getsumei calendar, the first month of the year, Mutsuki (睦月), aligns not with January on the Gregorian calendar but with a period closer to late February, marking spring's true beginning. This slight lag reflects the wafu getsumei calendar’s alignment with natural cycles rather than the rigid structure of modern timekeeping.
Spring kigo in haiku symbolizes renewal, awakening, and beginnings. Iconic seasonal references like harukaze (春風), or “the first warm winds,” suggest not just the physical thawing of winter but also an emotional stirring, a quiet joy in life's resurgence. Notably, the essence of spring in haiku is often found not in the full bloom of the season but in its promise—the tender, nascent signs of life after winter's trials. Ume, or “plum blossoms,” often the first flowers to bloom, become a metaphor for resilience, while the melting snow signals nature’s gradual awakening. Spring invites anticipation, a gentle pause before the world bursts into color and sound, embodying the patience and hope that define its spirit.
[1] Mutsuki (睦月) - January
Shin-nen, or “New Year,” is sometimes categorized as a distinct season, but in most cases, Mutsuki (睦月) is treated as a spring kigo. The kanji “睦 (mutsu)” carries meanings such as “harmonious,” “close relationships,” and “friendship.” Mutsuki represents a time of familial harmony during New Year gatherings while signaling the end of the celebrations and the approach of spring. This duality often inspires haiku that reflect both the emptiness following festivities and the anticipation of the coming season.
またの年の 睦月もいはへ 千代の江戸
Mata no toshi no / Mutsuki mo iwae / Senze no Edo
“In the years to come/ may Mutsuki return to / prosperous Edo.”
By Kigin Kitamura (1624-1705)
This haiku expresses the joy of celebrating the New Year and the hope of doing so again, capturing a deep reverence for the celebratory traditions of Edo (present-day Tokyo). Through its allusion to the bittersweet emotions surrounding Mutsuki, the haiku evokes a longing for the continuity of tradition.
[2] Kisaragi (如月) - February
While considered as a part of spring, Kisaragi (如月) remains cold. The homophonous term Kisaragi (衣更着), which means “to wear more clothes,” reflects the lingering winter chill that requires layering clothes despite the spring season.
如月の 駕に火を抱く 山路かな
Kisaragi no / kago ni hi o daku / yamaji kana
“In Kisaragi / cradling fire in palanquin / oh, the mountain path.”
By Takahama Kyoshi (1874-1959)
This haiku captures a cold February day as travelers clutch a glowing fire while navigating a remote mountain trail. The phrase “cradling fire in a palanquin” vividly conveys the chill through the actions of seeking warmth. The concluding “kana” adds a touch of wonder, a common haiku device that amplifies the mood and invites reflection. The poem lingers on the sensation of “cradling fire” during a harsh mountain ascent.
[3] Yayoi (弥生) - March
Yayoi (弥生) refers to the peak of spring, derived from the phrase “grasses and trees grow thickly.” Haiku using this kigo often highlights the lush, vibrant greenery of spring.
友情に 悔を残さず 弥生尽く
Yūjō ni / kui o nokosazu / Yayoi tsuku
“As for my friendships / I must not harbor regrets— / Farewell Yayoi”
By Abe Midorijo (1886-1980)
This haiku captures the bittersweet transition at the end of Yayoi, when nature renews itself with vibrant greenery, covering the remnants of old leaves and withered shrubs. It parallels the melancholy of growing up, where friends must part ways and embark on their separate paths, with the rebirth of nature.
Summer kigo
Summer unfolds with an exuberant surge of life. It is a season where nature is in full bloom, vibrant, and unapologetically alive. It is a time of intensity, with kigo evoking the radiant heat, bustling energy, and lush greenery that define the year’s peak.
The semi (蝉), or “cicada,” a quintessential summer kigo, is more than a herald of the season; its strident calls symbolize persistence, fleeting life, and the urgency of existence under the blazing sun. Matsuri, or festivals, another prominent kigo, conjure vivid scenes of communal joy—paper lanterns swaying gently in the warm night breeze, and fireworks painting the velvet skies with bursts of color. Similarly, gou (豪雨), or “guerrilla rain,” with its sudden, dramatic torrents, embodies the unpredictable and intense energy of summer, a force both nourishing and overwhelming.
Unlike spring's patient anticipation, summer is a celebration of abundance. The season's kigo reflects nature's unrestrained vitality, inviting poets to embrace its dramatic contrasts and moments of bursting beauty.
[4] Uzuki (卯月) - April
Uzuki (卯月) is named after the unohana (卯の花), or “deutzia flowers,” which have small white flowers often poetically likened to soft, rippling waves.
巫女町に よききぬすます 卯月かな
Mikomachi ni / yoki kinu sumasu / Uzuki kana
“In Miko village / fine silks being purified— / Must be Uzuki.”
By Yosa Buson (1716-1784)
This haiku depicts priestesses in a spiritual town cleansing their garments in preparation for summer. Mikomachi (巫女町), or “village of priestesses,” refers to a region associated with priestesses who communicate with spirits. The allusion to deutzia flowers, symbolizing “secrecy” and “antique elegance,” adds a layer of mystique to the scene. Yet, this portrayal of spirituality is not one of melancholy, but of mischief and wonder. The imagery of traditional garments washed near a riverbank evokes a serene, ethereal early-summer setting, blending spirituality with natural beauty.
[5] Satsuki (皐月) - May
Satsuki (皐月) is a season for rice planting and early summer rain. Haiku often captures the transition to warmer days during this period.
露さへも 旅はおもきに 皐月雨
tsuyu sae mo / tabi wa omoki ni / Satsuki ame
“Even small dewdrops / feel heavy on journey's path— / Rain in Satsuki”
By Sakurai Baishitsu (1769-1852)
In the Edo period, travelers lacked modern rain gear, making even light rain a burden on their straw-sandaled feet. This haiku vividly portrays the weight of rain during a journey, capturing the reality experienced by travelers during Satsuki's rainy seasons.
[6] Minazuki (水無月) - June
Minazuki (水無月) refers to the time of irrigating rice fields, making it a month deeply connected to water, humidity, and lush vegetation.
戸口から 青水無月の 月夜哉
Toguchi kara / ao Minazuki no / tsukiyo kana
“Beyond the doorway / shimmers blue Minazuki — / Oh, a moonlit night.”
By Kobayashi Issa (1763-1828)
The term “blue Minazuki,” in which “blue” can be likened to the English usage of “green” to express vitality and nature, emphasizes the greenery associated with this season. This haiku paints a serene picture of a summer night, with moonlight illuminating the verdant leaves visible from the poet's doorway, portrayed as vividly as one tranquil scene from a painting.
Autumn kigo
Autumn holds deep cultural and spiritual significance in Japan, symbolizing both the beauty and impermanence of life. In traditional Japanese thought, the changing seasons are a reflection of the cyclical nature of existence, and autumn, in particular, is a time of contemplation and quiet reflection.
Autumn kigo tends to reflect these themes of transition and melancholy. Terms like koyo (紅葉), or “red maple leaves,” represent life at its crescendo, capturing the vibrant yet fleeting beauty of the season. The meigetsu (名月), or “harvest moon,” symbolizes not only abundance but also the cyclical nature of life, alluding to the transitory character of the moon that continues to wax and wane. Indeed, the autumn season is a moment to express gratitude for the year's abundance, while the falling leaves and cooling temperatures remind people of the inevitability of change.
[7] Fumizuki (文月) - July
The name Fumizuki (文月), also read as fuzuki, is believed to stem from the tradition of writing poems or wishes on paper strips during the Tanabata festival, thus containing the kanji 文 (fumi) which means “art” or “literary.” Another interpretation links it to Hohumizuki (穂含月), referring to the ripening of rice ears during this season.
文月や 空にまたるる ひかりあり
Fumizuki ya / sora ni mataruru / hikari ari
“Oh, Fumizuki! / Eagerly up in the sky / there awaits a light”
By Chiyojo Kaga (1703-1775)
Fumizuki is a time when the nights are the shortest. This haiku captures the poet’s artistic interpretation of a unique celestial phenomenon, where she witnessed both the setting sun and the “eager” rising moon in the sky. The scene evokes anticipation and even longing for the coming night.
[8] Hazuki (葉月) - August
The nameHazuki (葉月)translates as “leaf month,” referring to the season when leaves begin to turn color and fall. Haiku featuring Hazuki often captures the awe and wonder inspired by the vibrant autumn leaves, whose breathtaking colors paradoxically signal withering and the approach of its decay.
科の木や 葉月ぐもりの 峠茶屋
Shina no ki ya / hazuki kumori no / toge chaya
“Oh, sycamore trees! / Haze of Hazuki from a / mountain pass teahouse”
By Onibo Sato (1919-2002)
This haiku depicts a peaceful moment at a teahouse surrounded by sycamore trees, native to Japan’s mountainous regions. The phrase “haze of Hazuki” subtly evokes the presence of autumn leaves without explicitly naming their color. The poet captures the serenity of this mountain pass, likely offering a brief and tranquil rest during his journey.
[9] Nagatsuki (長月) - September
Nagatsuki (長月), or “long month,” signifies the longer nights as autumn deepens. It transitions from lingering summer heat to cooler autumn air.
長月は 十六夜といはで あはれ也
Nagatsuki wa / izayoi to iwa de / aware nari
“Nagatsuki is / regardless of Izayoi / rather pitiful”
By Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902)
Izayoi (十六夜) refers to the night of the sixteenth day of the lunar calendar, following the full moon. Unlike the full moon, which rises at sunset, the Izayoi moon is slightly delayed, evoking a sense of hesitation. The final verse “aware nari” reflects the Japanese aesthetic of impermanence, tied to mono no aware (物の哀れ), or the “pathos of things.” This haiku captures the beauty and melancholy of the autumn sky, paralleling the waning moon with the transient nature of existence.
Winter kigo
Winter holds deep significance in Japanese culture, often symbolizing endurance and the serene beauty of nature in its stillness. Traditionally, it marked the end of the year, signaling the quiet preparation for spring’s renewal. The season invites introspection and calm, where the cold and its challenges are seen not as hardships, but as opportunities to foster resilience and a deeper connection with the muted natural world.
Winter kigo reflects these themes of stillness, endurance, and a retreat into nature’s quiet. While the imagery of yuki, or “snow,” blanketing the world in silence creates a serene stillness that invites reflection, the allusion to shimo (霜), or “frost,” delicate and fleeting, captures the fragility of life. Other kigo bring winter into the rhythm of daily life. For instance, hibachi (火鉢), or “a brazier,” glowing with warmth, symbolizes human resilience and the comfort found in shared spaces, and toji (冬至), or “winter solstice,” inspires traditions like taking yuzu-infused hot baths for health and renewal. Together, these kigo weave a portrait of resilience and the small joys that sustain life through winter’s challenges.
[10] Kannazuki (神無月) - October
Kannazuki (神無月), meaning “month without gods,” alludes to the belief that gods across Japan gather at Izumo Shrine, leaving other regions “godless.” Haiku containing Kannazuki often evokes feelings of turmoil and confusion.
鈴鹿より あちらは白し 神無月
Suzuka yori / achira wa shiroshi / kannazuki
“The Suzuka Pass / beyond lies a white landscape — / Kannazuki”
By Shikou Kagami (1665-1731)
The Suzuka Pass has long been known as an important transportation route, but it is also famous for its steep, treacherous paths. This haiku describes the snow-covered terrain beyond Suzuka Pass during a “month without gods,” marking the arrival of snowy winter and hinting at a tumultuous spiritual transition.
[11] Shimotsuki (霜月) - November
Shimotsuki (霜月)refers to “the frost month,” as frost appears on the ground in late autumn. Unlike snow, which blankets the land in white, or winter winds that howl with fierce intensity, frost brings a subtle chill, symbolizing the fragility of life in the cold season. Haiku containing Shimotsuki tends to emphasize the sparseness characterizing the brittle winter.
霜月や すかれすかれの 草の花
Shimotsuki ya / sukare sukare no / kusa no hana
“Oh, Shimotsuki! / combed thin and thin, sparsely as / flowers on grasslands”
By Masaoka Shiki (1867-1902)
Shimotsuki is a season when plants and trees wither. The sparse greenery is likened to a head of hair combed thin. This haiku captures the desolate beauty of November landscapes, where flowers cling to life amidst frost.
[12] Shiwasu (師走) - December
Shiwasu (師走) means “priests running,” symbolizing the busyness of year-end activities, where even monks rush to complete their duties. Haiku about Shiwasu is characterized by themes that reflect both the bitter cold and the hectic season.
炭売に 日のくれかかる 師走哉
Sumibi uri ni / hi no kure kakaru / shiwasu kana
“The charcoal seller / caught up by the setting sun / Shiwasu, perhaps”
By Yosa Buson (1716-1784)
This haiku evokes winter’s fleeting daylight, reflecting both the literal and metaphorical approach of the year's end. It captures a wintery scene where a busy charcoal seller, realizing that the day is already beginning to fade, reflects the shortening of daylight during Shiwasu.
Haiku in Japan
Haiku is not just a poetic form, but a lens through which we collectively enjoy and reflect on the world around us. Through its structure and use of kigo, haiku connects poets to the rhythm of the seasons and the collective experience of the natural world. Furthermore, as a modern poetic form that upholds premodern conceptions of seasonal changes, haiku acts as a metaphorical bridge that connects present-day audiences to the premodern seasonal aesthetics, transmitted through brief, colloquial verses.
Haiku's emphasis on seasonality resonates deeply across various forms of Japanese artistic expression. For instance, visual arts like ukiyo-e woodblock prints often capture seasonal landscapes in vivid detail, echoing haiku’s ability to crystallize transient moments. This reverence extends to culinary arts like washoku (和食), where shun (旬) ingredients are highlighted at their seasonal peak. Performing arts, such as Noh and Kabuki, also integrate seasonal elements through scripts, costumes, and stage settings, while Japanese gardens and architecture are crafted to showcase the shifting beauty of the seasons. Together, these art forms illustrate how haiku is part of a broader cultural practice that transforms the rhythms of nature into enduring works that showcase seasonal changes.
Haiku is an accessible poetic form that invites us to pause, connect with nature and the community, and obtain renewed perspectives on the flow of changing seasons. In April, we quietly marvel at the delicate blooms of deutzia flowers; in August, we delight in the vibrant dance of autumn leaves; and by October, we find ourselves reflecting on the profound ways nature intertwines with our spirituality. Let us embrace the coming seasons with the mindset of haiku poets, perhaps even crafting a few verses to test our heightened sensitivity. Through haiku, we discover a new way to reflect on the years bygone and appreciate the years to come.
About the Author: Tamaki Hoshi is a scholar and aspiring novelist with a passion for both Japanese women's history and intellectual history. She is currently researching the effects of modernization on Japanese women and the collective memory of motherhood in prewar and wartime Japan at Waseda University. Through her research and writing, she strives to illuminate the untold stories of women in Japanese history.
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