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Kala Ramesh

The Heart of a Haiku: The Cut (Kire)

Editor’s note: Haibun, by its nature, has many open spaces: the leap between the haiku and the prose, the blank space within the prose that readers can inhabit and fill in on their own. Those spaces create the framework through which resonances and connections can be made, in much the same way (as Kala Ramesh says below) that silence is just as integral to music as the notes. This essay, first printed in the September 2016 issue of Pune365, provides a nice overview of this concept. It offers good, basic advice not only for the writing of haiku, but also for creating those all-important leaps and open space in a haibun.

Thirty spokes share the wheel’s hub;
 It is the center hole that makes it useful.
 Shape clay into a vessel;
 It is the space within that makes it useful.

 Cut doors and windows for a room;
 It is the holes which make it useful.
 Therefore profit comes from what is there;
 Usefulness from what is not there.

 Tao Te Ching of Lao Tzu – Chapter 11
 (Tr. by Gia-fu Feng and Jane English)

As a student of Hindustani classical vocal music, I have spent a lot of time pondering how to effectively use “space” in music, which is very different from the way it is shown in dance. In music, one way is to go up and down the octave showing both space and time. But it is equally important to accentuate the spaces between the notes. These full, half or quarter pauses or silences between notes give a fillip to the emotional quotient when a melodic piece is performed. In truth, all art forms demand this way of utilizing space.

This space exists naturally between notes, dance movements, brush strokes, or words. An artist only attempts to perfect this technique, to give the dramatic and aesthetic touch needed, to make it visible not only to a connoisseur, but also to a lay person.

The Japanese have a very beautiful aesthetic tool called the “ma.”

Which means: where there is clutter, even valuable things lose their value. Where there is too much, nothing stands out. The essence of Japanese aesthetic is this concept called “ma” (pronounced “maah”)—the pure, and indeed the essential, void between all things. A total lack of clutter, ma is like a holder within which things can exist, stand out, and have a meaning.

(For more on this concept, click here.)

The cut, known as the kire in haiku, is the most important technique and aesthetic tool we use when writing a haiku. What does it do? It creates that space between the images. In a minimalistic poem, how can one tell a story—where is the place for narration? The kire does this magic! It helps the author to link from one image to the next by creating a cut, which in turn creates “space.”

The kire forms the backbone and can be called the soul in haiku. A kire sometimes can occur anywhere in a haiku and it can happen more than once. It brings into focus the images that run parallel and the space between them.

For an example, let’s look at one of Basho’s famous haiku:

                    on a bare branch
                    a crow has alighted. . .
                    autumn nightfall

We see that he has clearly linked the two images—the crow alights on a bare branch against the background of an autumn nightfall. But please observe both the connection of the two images and the distance between them. The connection happens only when the images are close but not too close, nor too far apart. For example, suppose we change the third line to:

                    on a bare branch
                    a crow has alighted. . .
                    the leafless tree

The first image—a crow alighting on a bare branch—is too close to the second image of a leafless tree, hence there is no twist or surprise and the haiku falls flat.

With this third line:

                    on a bare branch
                    a crow has alighted. . .
                    science project

the two images—a crow alighting on a bare branch and a science project—have no connection, so the haiku does not work. For a haiku to connect we need the images neither too close (as in example 1) nor too far and disconnected (as in example 2).

This haiku is one of my all-time favourites, and it shows the kire most beautifully — with just the right amount of gap for a good leap!

the thief left it behind:
the moon
at my window

              —Ryokan

Here are some examples of contemporary haiku with a very effective “cut.” Good impact. The space between the two images shown in each haiku is not too far nor too close. There’s Just the right amount of space to create that bridge in the reader’s mind—something like seeing two or three “shots” of a filming unit, which help the director and the cinematographer in carrying the storyline further.

                    temple tank—
                    near the stone bull
                    a real bull

                            —Ajaya Mahala, Pune

A clear cut after L1. Also notice the play on the image: the stone bull (which is worshipped) and a real bull (which is perhaps loitering around in search of food?). The irony, the reality of life, is given here in just nine words.

Here’s one last example. Apart from noting the kire, also look at the internal rhythm in this haiku. Reading it aloud, do you hear and feel the rhythmic beat of the bird hopping along?

                    train whistle
                    a blackbird hops
                    along its notes

                           — Alan Summers, UK

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Author’s Note: The author would like to thank Jenny Angyal for her editing & proofing of the original essay. The copyrights of all haiku used in this essay rest with the authors.

The “Heart of a Haiku” is a nine-part series exploring the art of writing haiku. The entire series can be found on the British Haiku Society website.

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About the Author

Kala Ramesh is a renowned pioneer in the field of haikai literature in India. Her 2017 book Beyond the Horizon Beyond was awarded a Rabindranath Tagore Literary Prize Certificate.