English Original
moving day
a last look at the cactus
that never bloomed
Modern Haiku, 51:3, 2020
Bob Lucky
Chinese Translation (Traditional)
搬家日
最後一眼凝視那株
從未開花的仙人掌
Chinese Translation (Simplified)
搬家日
最后一眼凝视那株
从未开花的仙人掌
Bio Sketch
Bob Lucky is the author of Ethiopian Time (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014), Conversation Starters in a Language No One Speaks (SurVision Books, 2018), My Thology: Not Always True But Always Truth (Cyberwit, 2019), and the e-chapbook What I Say to You (proletaria.org, 2020). He lives in Portugal.
By juxtaposing the transitional moment of “moving day” in L1 with the quiet, specific image of the cactus in Ls 2&3, the haiku builds a subtle but resonant emotional tension. The detail that the cactus “never bloomed” introduces a sense of unrealized potential, suggesting something in the speaker’s life that remained incomplete or unfulfilled. This understated observation deepens the poignancy of departure: the act of leaving is not only physical but also carries an awareness of what did not come to fruition.
ReplyDeleteAt the same time, the haiku evokes a "wabi-sabi sensibility, finding beauty in imperfection and transience." The cactus, marked by its failure to bloom, becomes meaningful precisely because of that lack. In this way, the haiku transforms an ordinary moving-day glance into a moment of quiet reckoning, where acceptance and melancholy coexist.