Mark Pullinger on Shinkichi Takahashi's poem 'Sparrow in Winter' and his own work 'Magus' and 'Untitled'

In this episode, poet Mark Pullinger discusses Shinkichi Takahashi’s poem ‘Sparrow in Winter’ (translated by Lucien Stryk) and two of Mark’s poems: ‘Magus' and ‘Untitled’.
 
In the interview, we talk about Mark’s introduction to Zen poetry - and Zen haiku in particular - through his discovery of Shinkichi Takahashi’s work. We examine the multifaceted qualities of Takahashi’s poem ‘Sparrow in Winter’, which adopts simple language to create nuanced and complex associations around consciousness, the void, how the narrator and sparrow ‘mesh' with each other.   We then go on to explore Mark’s approaches to writing through focusing on ‘Magus’ and ‘Untitled’.  Mark talks in some depth - drawing on the specifics of these two pieces - about how his poetry has evolved over the past decade since the publication of his thesis.

You can find Takahashi’s poem ‘Sparrow in Winter’ in his collection Triumph of the Sparrow: Zen Poems by Shinkichi Takahashi - translated by Lucien Stryk (Grove Press, 1986). I picked up a digital copy of the book.

 

Mark Pullinger lives in the Dearne Valley, walking distance to RSPB Old Moor and its satellite sites, where he walks with his wife daily. The philosophy outlined in this interview was conceived for his PhD thesis, The Speaking World, available on Loughborough University’s Institutional Repository. He has recently completed a poetry collection on Kafka and the natural world, making a style shift from his thesis, but still expressing the same worldview.
 
The Speaking World is available at https://repository.lboro.ac.uk/articles/thesis/The_speaking_world

 

You can also follow me on X - @cwjoneschris or on Bluesky - @cwjoneschris.bsky.social for more updates on future episodes.

 

Sparrow in Winter
by Shinkichi Takahashi
translated by Lucien Stryk
 
Breastdown fluttering in the breeze,
The sparrow’s full of air holes.
Let the winds of winter blow,
Let them crack a wing, two,
The sparrow doesn’t care.
 
The air streams through him, free, easy,
Scattering feathers, bending legs.
He hops calmly, from branch to empty branch
In an absolutely spaceless world.
 
I’d catch, skewer, broil you,
But my every shot misses: you’re impossible.
All at once there’s the sound
Of breaking glass, and houses begin
To crumple. Rising quickly,
An atomic submarine nudges past your belly.
 

Untitled
by Mark Pullinger
 
Polar bear
smells life
kills
spreading
through her
her cubs
extending skies
earth’s breath
expanding
sun’s reign

 

Magus
by Mark Pullinger
 
In a distant desert
a lone speck crosses
the horizon
mumbling,
“the desert
has dignity
moving through it”.
Sand drifts
across humps,
clinging,
rolling on.

Heat, like breath,
rises, waves
reaching skies.
Camel’s eyes
large distant
suns.