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sâmbătă, 31 martie 2018

2018 Results


PARTICIPANTS





At the

Seventh Edition of The Haiku Contest
SHARPENING THE GREEN PENCIL 2018

organized by Romanian Kukai Group have participated

269 participants from 6 continents and 50 countries.
as follows:

AFRICA:
Ghana (1), Kenya (1), Nigeria (2), South Africa (1), Unganda (1);

ASIA:
Bangladesh (1), China (1), India (13), Indonesia (2), Iran (1), Japan (2), Mongolia (1), Pakistan (1), Philippines (4), Singapore (1), Thailand (1);

AUSTRALIA:
Australia (13), New Zealand (6);

EUROPE:
Austria (1), Belarus (1), Belgium (5), Bosnia and Herzegovina (1),
Bulgaria (4), Croatia (43), Cyprus (1), Finland (1), France (5), Germany (7), Ireland (3), Italy (10), Latvia (1), Lithuania (8),  Macedonia (5),
Montenegro (3), Norway (1), Poland (11), Romania (14), Russia (3),
Serbia (4), Slovenia (3), Spain (4), Sweden (1), Switzerland (3), Ukraine (2), United Kingdom (11);

NORTH AMERICA:
Canada (7), Curaçao (6), Netherlands, Bonaire (2),
United States of America (45);

SOUTH AMERICA:
Colombia (1)

The organizers would like to express their gratitude to the participants for such a large interest and invite everyone to participate in the seventh edition,
which will start in February 2019.


Corneliu Traian ATANASIU, President of the Jury
Cezar Florin CIOBÎCĂ, Member of the Jury
Dan DOMAN, Member of the Jury
Eduard ŢARĂ, Secretary,
Cristina Oprea,
Ana Drobot

Congratulations to the winners and commended haiku poets.













First Prize

frozen trough
I cup the warm breath
of my horse

Debbie STRANGE
Winnipeg, CANADA


The winning poem drew me towards it due to the delicacy of the picture presented, through the close connection between man and animal. The horse and its master have set together on the road, and they stop for a moment to rest and drink water, but, because of the low temperatures the trough is frozen, so the animal cannot drink. The master, however, probably numb with cold, gets warmed somehow by catching the breath of the faithful animal in the palm of his hands.
The two parts of the poem harmoniously weave around the complementarity death-life (standing still versus animation) in a wintery landscape whose glacial stiffness the reader can feel through his skin, due, partly, to the alliteration of the consonant “r” which appears five times in the poem. It can be speculated that the man, being too old and tired, or even ill, is reanimated, and, why not, put back on his feet by the warm, miraculous breath of his horse.
And, what is even more beautiful, is the fact that this poem, through his props, has taken me back in time, making me see no one else but Bashō himself nearby the trough, sliding down his narrow path towards the far north.

comment by Cezar Florin CIOBÎCĂ
translation by Ana DROBOT




Second Prize



after the war …
in a barrel of a tank
bird's nest


Zuzanna TRUCHLEWSKA
Łaziska Górne, POLAND





Everything is recyclable. Less warlike beings find, fearlessly, unthought of purposes for destructive machines. Undoubtedly, the ancestor of this story with unpredictable meaning for the carefree birds is the flower, set as a call for peace in the pipe of a soldier’s gun.
Beyond the innocence of the birds that built their nest over there, the otherwise pathetic happening is, for us human beings, an innocent reproach among other things, “Why would you not build nests for us from the beginning? Don’t your silly things cost you too much ?”

comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu
translation by Ana DROBOT




Second Prize



Harvest Day
the last cricket fills
my piggy-bank


Cristina APETREI
Botoşani, ROMANIA

The first line places the poem in the autumn season, on a day when everyone, in a rustic setting, celebrates the abundance, the joy of life, thanking God for what was given to them.
Part two brings into the foreground a cricket that sends references to the summer rather than to the autumn. With the word last, one can speculate that the narrative instance, tired or bedridden and waiting for his end, is enjoying the inspiring presence of the singing cricket that fills the piggy bank of his soul, in his last moments.
On the other hand, the piggy-bank, naturally, leads us to think of a child who cannot enjoy the feast day enough because he is missing something, not necessarily the money. It is rather a hollow feeling perhaps caused, why not, by the absence of someone dear. What a beautiful surprise at the end of the poem, that highlights the harmony between macro and microuniverse. The song of the little bard that fills his little piggy-bank, this miniature savings bank brings the all too full comfort to the kid, and, to us, readers, it seems to subtly convey the message that the material is not what counts, but rather the spiritual, in any form of manifestation.

comment by Cezar Florin CIOBÎCĂ
translation by Ana DROBOT




Third Prize



morning cicada
a boy in the asylum
recites his prayer


Ramlawt DINPUIA
Aizawl, INDIA









Without being the explicit expression of animism or pantheism, this haiku poem integrates the reader into a universe in which all beings empathize and have feelings and behaviors of godliness and piety. It is thus not something incomprehensible that the humble humming of the cricket and the boy’s shy prayer interweave in the blessed beginning of a day.

comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu
translation by Ana DROBOT






COMMENDATIONS






super blood moon
the scent of a woman
in red


Angelo B. ANCHETA
Rizal, PHILIPPINES




scattered sand ...
baby sea turtles return
to the stars


Pris CAMPBELL
Lake Worth, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


summer field ...
a farmer talks to his goat
while chewing a grass


Kanchan CHATTERJEE
Jamshedpur, INDIA




oak woods ...
a woodpecker arranges
the night silence


Ivan GAĆINA
Zadar, CROATIA


winter dawn –
small refugee takes breath
in a tank car


Goran GATALICA
Zagreb, CROATIA




other ships
and other sailors –
the sea is the same


Letiţia Lucia IUBU
Craiova, ROMANIA


oh to have
the heron's hollow bones –
the weight of winter


Carole MacRURY
Point Roberts, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA




Cherry-colored mist
rolls along curves and valleys –
blind masseuse’s hands


David McMURRAY
Kagoshima, JAPAN


everything unchanged –
the rip in the curtain
woven by a spider


Dan NOREA
Constanţa, ROMANIA




a winter travelogue –
over distant glades I follow
the trail of a doe


Dragutin PASARIĆ
Kutina, CROATIA


hearing aids –
birds sing
anew


Valentina RANALDI ADAMS
Fairlawn, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA





SELECTED POEMS







Theresa A. CANCRO
Wilmington, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Erin CASTALDI
Mays Landing, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Cherese COBB
Maryville, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Anne CURRAN
Hamilton, NEW ZEALAND

Małgorzata FORMANOWSKA
Wrocław, POLAND

John HAWKHEAD
Bradford on Avon, THE UNITED KINGDOM

Marilyn HUMBERT
Sydney, AUSTRALIA

Ron C. MOSS
Leslie Vale, AUSTRALIA

Pravat Kumar PADHY
Bhubaneswar, INDIA

Slavica SARKOTIĆ
Lekenik, CROATIA

Olivier SCHOPFER
Geneva, SWITZERLAND

Mariana TĂNASE
Brăila, ROMANIA

Maria Laura VALENTE
Cesena, ITALY






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