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ZEN BUDDHISM itself it has no value; it is not to be parsed, or "analysed??, as the beauty of English poems is torn in shreds by an age that knows not the meaning of poetry. The haiku is a means, not an end, a hint of the unspeakable. The western poets attempt to describe what they see, or feel, or think. The haiku helps you to grasp the sensation direct, as a means or device for "seeing into the soul of man".
I wait for a western poet to turn his hand to a Zen haiku. Mr. Kenneth Yasuda, with the pen-name of Shoson, has attempted, in A Pepper-pod, not only to translate haiku from the Japanese, but to write a few in English. He gives them a western touch by adding rhyme.
“Shade of summer trees Almost reaches to my desk With the gentle breeze.”
Or,
"Autumn evening, I came into a straight-road
In my travelling." These seem to me, however, to be poetry for the sake of writing poetry, and not the poet writing Zen. Nor is the author concerned with Zen. Such as he writes can be flung off minute by minute, and such is a charming evening's pastime for a group of friends. This is not Zen, nor the road to it. I hesitate to stain the virgin $nows of English haiku of Zen quality, yet someone must begin. The burden is heavy. I needs must strive for simplicity, for "poverty" or "loneliness”, and for “transparency". I must not make a description of things, but
