snowflake after snowflake
finishing
the stone bridge
(Iliana Ilieva)

We do not know whether the builders are just taking a break from their work or the bridge was abandoned unfinished a while ago? One by one, one by one the snowflakes fall on the stones of the bridge. They do not continue building it, but complete in their own way what has been left unfinished by people. It’s like it does not matter, like there’s not difference who started – black or white (as in the chess game), people or nature, the wind, the stone or the snow – it’s all the same. The difference is only visual, and now it disappears too under the soft white blanket.
… But what if the bridge is a working bridge and has not been abandoned? What if the snowflakes make it complete in a totally different dimension, which can not be explained by categories of usefulness and purpose? I recall the words of Basho: „my poetry is like a fireplace in the summer, like a fan in the winter – totally useless“.

**
In labour on the commuter train
those holding her hand
change at each station
(Polina Strizhova)

I had a strange mixed feeling from reading this verse. On the one hand – worry about the mom-to-be – how will she cope, will she reach the hospital on time? On the other– a feeling like it was me who was held by the sympathizing fellow passengers. I was also slightly alarmed – why do they change all the time, why would nobody forget about personal business and stay with her till the end? And in the same time I was overwhelmed with joy from being present at such a happy event. Despite the fact that everything keeps changing in this verse (stations, people, intervals between the contractions), the main thing – human warmth – stays.

***
the strings
get shorter -
old puppeteer
(Vyacheslav Kanin)

We got so used to the second meaning of some words, that upon reading this verse one can think of a boss or a mobster (or even someone far above us all) … and of the meaning that the older and weaker the master gets, the shorter has to be the lead he keeps his subordinates or dependants on. This poem, however, is about a real person, a puppeteer who operates toy marionettes. The man grows older, his body stoops. If he did not shorten the strings that make the puppet’s legs and arms move, the toy would lie on the floor lifeless. In order to keep the marionette alive, the puppeteer gets closer to it by the length of the passed years…

The words become dryer when we get to the end of the third line – they are like a verdict, like a step into the unknown. The image of the live man getting closer to the artificial, toy man seems to suggest the same. The verse, nevertheless, is not tragical at all – the inevitability of old age and death is expressed in a very simple and ordinary way. The echo from these short words, however, lasts for a long time – same happens when one throws a stone into a deep well…

indian summer-
children laughing
at the street preacher
(Vlad Vassiliev)

Who would come to people and tell them about another world, about a better life, etc. when this very world is still so wonderful and enchanting in its last splash of the sun, in the colour of grass and leaves that have not completely fallen yet… The kids are here too – these natural optimists.
… One can see a rich and a bit ironic scene, presented with no attempt to influence the reader’s perception, even with a little puzzle that brings a pleasant feeling of a little discovery.

If you look closer, you can see the delicate strings connecting the images and bringing out the meaning that is left between the lines: warmth of the indian summer in the first line and the children’s laughter in the second, the indian summer as the last remaining flash of the nature’s life of the year and the preacher as a mediator between the people and the „truth“. „Be like children“ – comes to mind when we hear children laughing.

***
the rocks of the sea
have cut my feet -
Rusalochya harbour*
(Natalia Harag)

Rusalochya (mermaid) harbour… sounds do poetical. And how well the choice of words conveys the meaning of the poem: it’s not „hurt“, or „bruised“, but „cut“ – this word combination sounds almost lyrical, even ballad. The fairy-tale by H.C. Andersen „A little mermaid“ undoubtedly comes to mind…

The fact that the feet were injured not in some random harbour, but in the Mermaid harbour, takes this event outside the boundaries of a concrete person. „Mermaid“ reads here like a cultural and historical reminiscence, i.e. it is perceived as a technique widely used in the classical Japanese poetry (for example, caught up / with the departing spring / in the Waka harbour – M Basho. The Waka harbour is especially beautiful in spring). Despite the fact that this technique is not very popular among Russian-speaking haijins, this verse sounds natural and light. This delicate and lyrical referral to our common cultural baggage made me talk about this haiku.

**
above the heads
out of the hospital’s window
the old man’s look
(Elina Vitomskaya)

Images of children and old people are a very frequently used in haiku, maybe because the old and the very young are very close to the line separating life and death. This is also true for haiku – they try to bridge the gap between the inner and outer worlds, between the realm of words and the realm of meanings, between the eternal and the transient…

Does the old man look above the heads out of the hospital’s window because he feels he does not belong to this world anymore? I think the opposite – sometimes when we fall ill (and thus change our daily routine) we suddenly realise, that the most important things have always been in front of us, we just never noticed them – how wonderful is that there are clouds in the sky and that one can see them, that the trees swaying in the wind are green, that the kite is flying high in the sky… And as far as the people in the room are concerned – let them talk whatever they talk about, or not talk at all. These two interpretations have one thing in common: the illness, which changed the direction of the man’s look. In the first case, however, it may seem that the man looks in nowhere, in the other – that the man who is, perhaps, between life and death starts to appreciate life more than ever.

***
clear night.
the window’s shadow
on my body
(Valeria Krestova)

I had a wonderful feeling having read this verse. I do not even want to try to express this feeling in words. This is an example of not only so-called „unfinished bridge“ (see „The Definition of Haiku“ by A. Andreev), which theoretically can be finished (with the help of millions of snowflakes) but of the „bridge that can’t be finished“ (see the article by Dmitry Kudrya – available in Russian only)…

The night is clear, the cross-shaped shadow of the window falls on the girl’s skin (the lines of the verse form some sort of a cross too: moonlight – shadow- whiteness of the skin in the dark), Margarita from „Master and Margarita“ by M. Bulgakov comes to mind.
The contrast of images in the verse does not allow to perceive them separately, one can only appreciate them altogether. It creates an effect of intangibility of the direct and indirect meanings, the senses take off from the fingertips and float somewhere in the void, exciting and mysterious. What a clear, delicate, beautiful and mystical picture.

***
ladder to the roof…
first raindrops
on the steps
(Konstantin Mikityuk)

A surprise is saved for the end – after a commonplace image. The first two lines may give the reader an impression that the verse is about a human or a, maybe, a cat. At the end of the third line, however, one can not help smiling. The rain drop are especially visible on the dry wood of the ladder – as if someone small and invisible has just climbed it.
I am sure that the poet who managed to capture this moment is a great bedtime story teller.

* Rusalochya – (russ. adj) mermaid.
= Translated by the ULITKA =