Season Words for Autumn
Sky, moon, insects, wind—autumn is a layered field of sensation
Traditional saijiki divide autumn into a rich field of words: moon, insects, dew, autumn wind, colored leaves, and many more. The goal is not mere memorization but understanding the sensory and cultural associations each word carries.
Today’s Question
What tells you first that autumn has arrived—temperature, light, sound, or something else?
Autumn is one word, but seasonal language in haiku is much more finely grained. Traditional Japanese saijiki include autumn wind, dew, insect voices, the moon, colored leaves, falling leaves, and many other terms, each carrying a different time and sensation. Early autumn heat and the cold air of late autumn belong to the same season yet create very different poetic worlds.
“The moon” is a revealing example. It can be seen all year, but traditional seasonal poetics strongly associates it with autumn. Clearer skies, moon-viewing customs, and centuries of poetry have accumulated around the word. Likewise, “insects” in autumn haiku often evokes not insects in general but the auditory world of night cries and the approach of cooler weather.
Writing haiku in Korean, however, should not become an exercise in copying a Japanese saijiki word for word. Chuseok, the smell of ginkgo fruit in apartment streets, dry schoolyards, or evening wind along the Han River can carry lived Korean seasonality. We can study inherited kigo while also observing how season is actually experienced in our own place.
Today, show autumn without using the word “autumn.” Choose one clue—temperature, light, smell, sound, food, or clothing. The power of seasonal language lies not in repeating the name of the season, but in allowing the reader to feel it.
“The moon” is a revealing example. It can be seen all year, but traditional seasonal poetics strongly associates it with autumn. Clearer skies, moon-viewing customs, and centuries of poetry have accumulated around the word. Likewise, “insects” in autumn haiku often evokes not insects in general but the auditory world of night cries and the approach of cooler weather.
Writing haiku in Korean, however, should not become an exercise in copying a Japanese saijiki word for word. Chuseok, the smell of ginkgo fruit in apartment streets, dry schoolyards, or evening wind along the Han River can carry lived Korean seasonality. We can study inherited kigo while also observing how season is actually experienced in our own place.
Today, show autumn without using the word “autumn.” Choose one clue—temperature, light, smell, sound, food, or clothing. The power of seasonal language lies not in repeating the name of the season, but in allowing the reader to feel it.
Key Terms
autumn kigo · moon · insects · dew · autumn wind · saijiki · local seasonality
Period & Context
The Japanese saijiki tradition from early modern times to contemporary explorations of local seasonality in Korean haiku
Sources & References
[Core references]
1. The Haiku Foundation, “New to Haiku: What is a Kigo?”
2. Modern Haiku Association, “Introduction to Haiku.”
3. Hyogo Prefectural Museum of Art / Hyogo Literary Museum, Edo-Hyogo Haiku archive, for historical examples of autumn kigo in Buson.
Korean examples are observational teaching examples, not claims of a standardized Korean kigo canon.
1. The Haiku Foundation, “New to Haiku: What is a Kigo?”
2. Modern Haiku Association, “Introduction to Haiku.”
3. Hyogo Prefectural Museum of Art / Hyogo Literary Museum, Edo-Hyogo Haiku archive, for historical examples of autumn kigo in Buson.
Korean examples are observational teaching examples, not claims of a standardized Korean kigo canon.
Copyright & Use
Editorial compilation, commentary, and festival translations © 2026 Korea Haiku Federation / Korea Haiku World Youth Festival 2026. Classical originals are in the public domain; rights in cited materials remain with their respective authors and institutions.
Planning & Editorial Supervision: KIM SUSEONG