As the judge for the English language entries for the esteemed Hoshi-to-Mori Tanka Contest, I have been careful always to make full allowances for works entered by those whose English is not their first language. Sometimes such writers produced charmingly inventive poetic styles. Moreover, I felt that the quality of work was improving year by year, and I entertained great hopes for the future of this unique and courageous example in encouraging the art of tanka on both Japanese and international levels.

　I always looked forward with great eagerness to discovering new voices and excellent poems displaying artistic and spiritual grace and sensibility. This year, however, I found it impossible to choose three English tanka of a sufficiently high standard. I could have selected three of the "least bad" entries, but I believe this would have been dishonest, both to the contestants and to myself. At the same time, it would have lowered the already high reputation of the contest's generous founder, Kazuo Ito. To encourage inferior work would also lower the high standards set by the Japanese entrants.

　My general impression was that the English entries did not really explore the real nature and deep meaning of the subject, "Snow". For foreigners, this word seemed to be too vast for inclusion in a poem of only 31 syllables. (Here I must praise most of the contestants for strictly observing the correct syllable count). But a tanka is not just five lines of 5, 7, 5, 7 and 7 syllables. That is just a framework. It is a form that lends itself to a great variety of formal expression. But content is even more important than form: and style is just as essential as content, with a careful rhythmic flow and a musical choice of words.

　Mr Kazuo Ito kindly pointed out to me that three themes -- Snow, Moon and Flower -- are the most traditional themes for tanka in Japan, and it is quite true, as he told me, that these beloved poetic thmes have stimulated Japanese poets since the most ancient times. But most entrants writing in English did not have this magnificent poetic tradition to inspire them. Of course, there are many famous English poems on the subject of snow, but they are vividly realistic and desoriptive: they do not, as Japanese tanka do, illuminate the rich spirit of this natural phenomenon. For western minds, this would seem too abstract an interpretation. I think this is what caused entrants to fail in their spiritual appreciation of snow's many beauties. They did not possess the special cultural background that makes the theme of snow in all the Japanese arts such a revelation for westerners. We feel that poets and artists become the snow itself, and speak with its voice. The English entrants spoke only with their own voice, so that the snow remained lifeless and dumb.

James Kirkup