What Is Tanka?
Tanka
Tanka is a poetry form which originated in Japan more than 13 centuries ago. In its purest form, tanka poems are most commonly written as expressions of gratitude, love, or self-reflection. Suitors would send a tanka to a woman the day after a date, and she would reply in kind. These were short messages (like secret letters) expressing love, desire, meaning, or gratitude. These poems often culminated in a transcendental message.
What tanka is about
Today, much of that original purpose is lost in tanka poems. Poets include any subject that lends itself well to the tanka form. Some subjects simply don’t lend themselves to tanka. For example, when writing about the frustration of cooking bacon and eggs, other poetry forms should be employed. But when composing a poem which includes personal experience and a resulting profound feeling, then tanka is perfect. Tanka are not whimsical. They should include some deep meaning or purpose, and leave the reader with a strong feeling.
The 5-7-5-7-7 syllable pattern
Tanka poems do not rhyme, and they are written in short lines, like haiku. In fact, tanka poems in English generally adhere to a syllabic count. There are five syllables (onji) in the first line, seven in the second, five in the third, and seven in lines four and five (5/7/5/7/7). Some poets hold that the syllable count is unimportant–what matters is that the form is suited to the subject. At Tanka Journal, we enjoy the syllable counts, but we are more concerned with poems having personal experience or a transcendental meaning (preferably both). See the Tanka Recipe and video below.
The poet’s voice
Because tanka poems are meant to be given to someone, they are written from the viewpoint of the poet. That does not mean they must be written in the first person, but the poet is ever-present, always writing to express personal feelings about the subject. Tanka poems are usually one long sentence broken purposefully between all five lines. Like any constrained poem, lines should not begin with articles (e.g., “a” or “the”) because articles reduce poetic compression and weaken the poetic impact of the form.
How to write a tanka: the Tanka Recipe
- Start with two lines addressing the experience of the poet, what they saw, heard, felt, tasted, smelled etc.
- Add a third line (called the turn or pivot) which changes the tone of the poem. It should relate separately to the two lines above and below.
- Finish with two lines which express a profound transcendental meaning that prompts reflection.
Tanka examples
The recipe is easier to see in a finished poem than to explain. Each tanka below won a Tanka Splendor Award, and appears with its poet’s name. All ten of them, along with classical Japanese examples, are on our Techniques page.
autumn night
again the clamor of geese
flying away
soon I will be
nobody’s child
— Ruth Holzer
The first two lines are what the poet hears. The third line, flying away, is the pivot: it finishes the geese above it and begins the loss below it. The last two lines take that departure and make it her own, and the poem lands somewhere the first line never promised.
still empty
my black lacquer box
awaiting
something too precious
to lie uncovered
— Amelia Fielden
Here the experience is a single object, seen plainly. Awaiting turns the box from a thing into a state of mind, and the closing lines never say what the box is for. That restraint is what leaves the reader holding the poem.
no room left
for discussion. . .
finally
I give my ear, my whole heart
to the voice of a mourning dove
— Michele Harvey
An argument, unnarrated. Finally is the pivot, and it works in both directions: the end of the talking, and the beginning of the listening. The dove is not a decoration. It is what the poet turns to when people fail her.
steady rain . . .
still only half awake
I wonder
which of these thoughts will be
the one to rouse me from bed
— Christopher Herold
Rain and a half-woken mind, then I wonder tips the poem inward. The close is quiet and a little funny, and it still leaves you thinking about how a day actually starts.
Notice what none of these poems do. None of them rhyme. None of them opens a line with “a” or “the.” Each one runs as a single thought, broken across five lines, and each one ends further from home than it began.
Watch: tanka explained
Watch this video for a fuller understanding:
Keep reading
- Tanka Techniques — Teika’s ten tanka styles, with classical and modern examples of each.
- Tanka vs Haiku — how the two forms differ, and how to tell which one you are writing.
- More Reading — books, journals, and organizations for tanka poets.