Haiku -- Matsuo Basho

Guest poem submitted by Rachel Granfield:

(Poem #802) Haiku Snowy morning-- one crow after another. -- Matsuo Basho

Trans. Lucien Stryk.

I have to say, it was difficult to pick one haiku over the rest in my book
of Basho. I decided on this one because it exemplifies one of my favorite
characteristics of Basho, his ability to create a vivid, lingering image
with incredible economy of words. I'm not hard-core enough to have this poem
in the original Japanese, but anyone who does, please do write in.

My minimal biographical information on this poet: he was born near Kyoto in
1644 and studied the art of haiku in his youth. At the age of 23 he moved to
Edo (now Tokyo) and continued to write. Later in life he became a recluse,
although he would sometimes travel to temples and the homes of other poets.
Along with his poetry, he is also noted for his travel diaries. Basho was
strongly influenced by the philosophies of Zen Buddhism. He died in 1694.

Rachel.

A mosquito was heard to complain -- Dr D D Perrin

Bending the theme rules again...

(Poem #801) A mosquito was heard to complain A mosquito was heard to complain That a chemist had poisoned his brain The cause of his sorrow Was paradichloro Diphenyltrichloroethane. -- Dr D D Perrin

Note: paradichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane - the chemical name for DDT. (Also
  1,1'-(2,2,2-trichloroethylidene) bis(4-chloro)-benzene,
  1,1,1-trichloro-2,2-bis(p-chlorophenyl)-ethane and
  p,p'-dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane depending on how you look at it.
)

Okay, so it's not by a scientist - or, at any rate, not by a scientist
willing to admit to it. [not quite true; see Ramesh's comment - m].
But no collection of science-related poems would be complete without at
least one limerick - they seem to be one of the most popular forms of
humorous verse around.

Of course, one of the reasons limericks are so popular is that they have a
relatively low entry barrier. Any fool can write a limerick - and,
inevitably, many do. Which means, naturally, that Sturgeon's Law applies in
spades, and a limerick has to be good, funny, clever or all three in order
to stand out.

Today's has achieved a reasonable measure of fame (translation: I'd actually
read it before I thought of the theme <g>), mostly for the clever way it
fits the (long) chemical name of DDT into limerick scansion - though with
some distortion (tri CHLO ro e THANE rather than TRI chloro E thane). Not to
mention the fact that 'chloro' doesn't quite rhyme with 'sorrow' (rhyne,
perhaps). Still, I like it - long chemical names have a lovely flowing
rhythm to them, and they aren't appreciated enough :).

Links:

  We've run one limerick before - it's not a form that really lends itself
  to great poetry <g>: poem #378

  If you'd really like to know about DDT:
    A picture, in living pseudocolour:
      [broken link] http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/CHEM/DDT-st.gif

    Linked to from an extensive fact sheet:
      [broken link] http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts35.html

  The theme so far: Poem #795, poem #797, poem #798, poem #800

-martin

In the Microscope -- Miroslav Holub

Guest poem submitted by Vivian Eden, as part of the
_poems by scientists about science_ theme:

(Poem #800) In the Microscope Here too are the dreaming landscapes, lunar, derelict. Here too are the masses, tillers of the soil. And cells, fighters who lay down their lives for a song. Here too are cemeteries, fame and snow. And I hear the murmuring, the revolt of immense estates. -- Miroslav Holub

Translated into English from Czech by Ian Milner, in Miroslav Holub, "Poems
before & After," Bloodaxe Books, 1990. In line five, I do not know whether
the Czech word translated here as "cells" also has a political meaning; in
any case, it works in English. For more about Miroslav Holub see
www.complete-review.com/authors/holubm.htm

This poem, I think, perfectly expresses the poetry of science. Czech poet
Miroslav Holub (1923-1998) was an immunologist by profession and a poet by
calling. "In the Microscope" demonstrates how the poet's eye is like the
scientist's eye and how the entire cosmos can be found in a smudge of
something-or-other on a microscope slide. Throughout, but particularly in
the last two lines, the poem "yokes" scientific man, political man and
poetic man to this smudge, which is a thing of beauty and terror. I imagine
anyone who has ever looked through a microscope must have felt this, but I
know of no one who has expressed it so well.

Vivian.

Mr Toad -- Kenneth Grahame

(Poem #799) Mr Toad The world has held great Heroes, As history-books have showed; But never a name to go down to fame Compared with that of Toad! The clever men at Oxford Know all that there is to be knowed. But they none of them know one half as much As intelligent Mr Toad! The animals sat in the Ark and cried, Their tears in torrents flowed. Who was it said, "There's land ahead"? Encouraging Mr Toad! The army all saluted As they marched along the road. Was it the King? Or Kitchener? No. It was Mr Toad. The Queen and her Ladies-in-waiting Sat at the window and sewed. She cried, "Look! Who's that HANDSOME man?" They answered, "Mr Toad." -- Kenneth Grahame

 From "The Wind in the Willows", first published in 1908.
 Sung (loudly) by Toad, after his escape from prison and sundry other
inconveniences.

"The Wind in the Willows" is one of a select group of books that fully
deserve the name 'classic'. From its publication in 1908 to the present day,
the adventures of Mole, Rat, Otter, Badger and the irrepressible Toad (of
Toad Hall) have enthralled young and old alike...

... oh dear, I'm beginning to sound like a publisher's blurb. Damnation!

Anyway. The Wind in the Willows truly is a classic. It's a book of many
moods: the beauty and mystery of the Piper at the Gates of Dawn, the
enchantment of the Sea Rat's spellbinding tales, the thrills (and spills) of
Toad's rollicking adventures, the terror of the Wild Wood, the humour and
simplicity and joy of Ratty's escapades, the enthusiasm and loyalty of
Mole... it's all there and it's all magical, utterly magical. Grahame
creates a world that's utterly convincing, and utterly true. And underlying
it all is a gentle nostalgia, a quietness and ineffable peace that suffuses
his portrayal of the Thames riverbank. Wonderful.

thomas.

[Biography]

 born March 8, 1859, Edinburgh, Scot.
 died July 6, 1932, Pangbourne, Berkshire, Eng.

Author of The Wind in the Willows (1908), one of the English classics of
children's literature. Its animal characters -- principally Mole, Rat,
Badger, and Toad -- combine captivating human traits with authentic animal
habits. It is a story that adults have enjoyed as much as children.

Orphaned at an early age, Grahame went to live with his grandmother in
England and attended St. Edward's School, Oxford. Money was lacking for him
to go to the university; hence his family guided him into a career at the
Bank of England, with which he stayed until ill health compelled him to
retire in 1907. Meanwhile he contributed articles to such journals as the
St. James Gazette and the Yellow Book and published collections of sketches,
stories, and essays -- Pagan Papers (1893), The Golden Age (1895), and Dream
Days (1898) -- all of which reveal his sensitive understanding of childhood.

The Wind in the Willows was dramatized by A. A. Milne as Toad of Toad Hall
(1930) and became a frequently performed Christmas play.

        -- EB

[Links]

Here's the complete text of Grahame's classic:
http://www.literatureproject.com/wind-willows/index.htm

Here's Winnie-the-Pooh:
[broken link] http://www.machaon.ru/pooh/

And here are some poems by A. A. Milne to have featured on the Minstrels:
Poem #91, "Cottleston Pie"
Poem #463, "Disobedience"
Poem #562, "The King's Breakfast"
Poem #576, "Tra-la-la, tra-la-la"

Incidentally, both Winnie-the-Pooh and The Wind in the Willows share the
distinction of being transcriptions of bedtime stories told by their
creators to their sons (Christopher Robin Milne and Alastair Grahame,
respectively).

V.B. Nimble, V.B. Quick -- John Updike

Straying slightly off the theme, Vidur suggested this
delightful poem about scientists:

(Poem #798) V.B. Nimble, V.B. Quick V.B. Wigglesworth wakes at noon, Washes, shaves and very soon Is at the lab; he reads his mail, Swings a tadpole by the tail, Undoes his coat, removes his hat, Dips a spider in a vat Of alkaline, phones the press, Tells them he is F.R.S., Subdivides six protocells, Kills a rat by ringing bells, Writes a treatise, edits two Symposia on "Will man do?," Gives a lecture, audits three, Has the sperm club in for tea, Pensions off an ageing spore, Cracks a test tube, takes some pure Science and applies it, finds, His hat, adjusts it, pulls the blinds, Instructs the jellyfish to spawn, And, by one o'clock, is gone. -- John Updike

Note:
  The title is, of course, a reference to the old nursery rhyme
     Jack be nimble,
     Jack be quick,
     Jack jump over the candlestick.

  FRS: Fellow of the Royal Society - see http://www.royalsoc.ac.uk/

I know we've just run an Updike poem, but this hilarious commentary on the
nature of Science and the Scientist was too good to pass up. Reminiscent of
Cummings' "busy monster manunkind", Updike's portrayal of the energetically
officious scientist is, underneath its humour, a critical look at the
coldbloodedness of science. Notice how most of the experiments described
are, shall we say, detrimental to the continued well-being of their subjects
- the spider, the rat, the aging spore, and even the testtube are casually
discarded in the name of Science.

However, that is a secondary message - the main purpose of the poem, and one
in which it succeeds admirably, is to be funny. The deft caricature of a
scientist's daily routine, the smattering of academic words (not quite
'jargon', but it fulfils much the same purpose), and the sly hints of
self-reference, like the symposia on "Will Man Do?" and the ancient spore
that was 'pensioned off' add up to a delightfully amusing and entertaining
poem. I particularly liked the line "takes some pure/ science and applies
it" - a perfect, nail-on-the-head sort of phrase that made me laugh out
loud.

Other points of note are the pattering metre, which carry the poem along at
a quick but measured pace, and the surprise ending, which was both perfectly
timed and altogether unanticipated.

Biography:

  A chronological biography, complete with pictures, can be found at
  [broken link] http://www.ctel.net/~joyerkes/Item2.html

Links:

  The Updike website:
    [broken link] http://www.ctel.net/~joyerkes/

  The science poems by scientists theme
    Poem #795 Harold P. Furth, 'The Perils of Modern Living'
    Poem #797 Lewis F. Richardson, 'Big Whorls Have Little Whorls'

  Cummings' "pity this busy monster, manunkind", poem #57

  And the previous Updike poems we've run
    Poem #538: 'Back from Vacation'
    Poem #788: 'I Missed His Book, But I Read His Name'

-martin