I have already said that Issa’s hokku reflect a scarred and sad childhood. That is why he tended to project his emotions onto other creatures and things:
Asabare ni pachipachi sumi no kigen kana
Morning-clear at pop-pop charcoal ‘s good-spirits kana
This bright morning,
Pop! pop! goes the charcoal
In good spirits.
This reminds one immediately of Hans Christian Andersen, who similarly had a difficult childhood and constantly projected human thoughts and emotions onto creatures and things. “Crick! Crack! said the furniture” — that sort of thing.
This is a very old way of behaving, in which what is unconscious in a human, instead of being made conscious, is projected onto the outside world. Do you remember childhood pictures in which the sun and moon have human faces, flowers have voices, and so on? It is the same kind of attitude.
Personally, I do not like it in hokku. I prefer things as they are, free of the projections of the writer. That demands a more mature attitude from the reader.
In Issa’s verse, it is not the charcoal that is in good spirits; it is Issa. So very often Issa is not really writing about sparrows or snails or other things — he is writing about Issa, projected onto those things. That is why much of his verse is so unsatisfactory as hokku, though it greatly appeals to sentimentalists.
Kinbyōbu matsu no furubi ya fuyugomori
Gold-screen pine ‘s aging ya winter-seclusion
On the golden screen ages;
“Winter seclusion” was a common topic in old winter hokku. It is remaining inside for long periods of time because of the inhospitable weather outside. It is somewhat like the old farm families in the United States being snowbound. With no place to go and very little to do, one turns inward.
That is what happened to Bashō. As the minutes and hours passed, he looked at an old gold-leafed screen on which a pine tree was cleverly painted, and in the slow passage of time he felt the pine on the screen aging along with everything else, though it was painted and not living. That is basic Buddhism. Everything passes, everything changes, nothing remains forever, whether a pine painted on a screen, a pine growing on a rocky crag, or even the crag upon which it grows. Bashō is experiencing the transience that is so much a part of hokku.