Haiku (俳句, listen) is a type of short form poetry that originated in Japan. Traditional Japanese haiku consist of three phrases composed of 17 phonetic units (called on in Japanese, which are similar to syllables) in a 5, 7, 5 pattern; that include a kireji, or "cutting word"; and a kigo, or seasonal reference. However, haiku by classical Japanese poets, such as Matsuo Bashō, also deviate from the 17-on pattern and sometimes do not contain a kireji. Similar poems that do not adhere to these rules are generally classified as senryū.

Haiku originated as an opening part of a larger Japanese genre of poetry called renga. These haiku written as an opening stanza were known as hokku and over time they began to be written as stand-alone poems. Haiku was given its current name by the Japanese writer Masaoka Shiki at the end of the 19th century.

Originally from Japan, haiku today are written by authors worldwide. Haiku in English and haiku in other languages have different styles and traditions while still incorporating aspects of the traditional haiku form. Non-Japanese language haiku vary widely on how closely they follow traditional elements. Additionally, a minority movement within modern Japanese haiku (現代俳句, gendai-haiku), supported by Ogiwara Seisensui and his disciples, has varied from the tradition of 17 on as well as taking nature as their subject. (Full article...)

Dylan Marlais Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953) was a Welsh poet and writer whose works include the poems "Do not go gentle into that good night" and "And death shall have no dominion", the "play for voices", Under Milk Wood, and stories and radio broadcasts such as A Child's Christmas in Wales and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog. He became popular in his lifetime and remained so after his premature death in New York. In his later life he acquired a reputation, which he encouraged, as a "roistering, drunken and doomed poet".

Although Thomas was appreciated as a popular poet in his lifetime, he found earning a living as a writer difficult, which resulted in his augmenting his income with reading tours and broadcasts. His radio recordings for the BBC during the latter half of the 1940s brought him to the public's attention and he was used by the Corporation as a populist voice of the literary scene. In the 1950s, Thomas travelled to America, where his readings brought him a level of fame, though his erratic behaviour and drinking worsened. His time in America cemented Thomas' legend, where he recorded to vinyl works such as A Child's Christmas in Wales. (Full article...)

• ... that Ludwig Ferdinand Huber wrote the text for a book with humorous illustrations by poet Friedrich Schiller?
• ... that Rabia Balkhi is the first known Persian woman poet?
• ... that known books bound in human skin include a highwayman's memoirs bound in his own skin, a novel about a man being left by his lesbian wife, and a BDSM erotic poem?
• ... that Minnesang poet Walther von Klingen is depicted jousting in the Codex Manesse manuscript?
• ... that Jan Kochanowski's Fraszki is a 16th-century collection of almost 300 poems, ranging from anecdotes and epitaphs to obscenities and erotica?
• ... that Matei Donici, a general in the Imperial Russian Army, secretly wrote poetry with Romanian-nationalist and anti-Russian messages?

A Mountain Home by Heinrich Heine

On the mountain stands the shieling,     Where the good old miner dwells; Green firs rustle, and the moonbeams     Gild the mountain heights and fells. In the shieling stands an armchair,     Carven quaint and cunningly; Happy he who rests within it,     And that happy guest am I. On the footstool sits the lassie,     Leans upon my lap her head; Eyes of blue, twin stars in heaven,     Mouth as any rosebud red. And the blue eyes gaze upon me,     Limpid, large as midnight skies; And the lily finger archly     On the opening rosebud lies. "No, the mother cannot see us –     At her wheel she spins away; Father hears not-he is singing     To the zitter that old lay." So the little maiden whispers,     Softly, that none else may hear, Whispers her profoundest secrets     Unmistrusting in my ear. Now that auntie's dead, we cannot     Go again to Goslar, where People flock to see the shooting:     'Tis as merry as a fair. And up here it's lonely, lonely,     On the mountain bleak and drear; For the snow lies deep in winter;     We are buried half the year. And, you know, I'm such a coward,     Frightened like a very child At the wicked mountain spirits,     Goblins who by night run wild." Suddenly the sweet voice ceases;     Startled with a strange surprise At her own words straight the maiden     Covers with both hands her eyes. Louder outdoors moans the fir-tree,     And the wheel goes whirring round; Snatches of the song come wafted     With the zitter's fitful sound. Fear not, pretty one, nor tremble     At the evil spirits' might; Angels, dearest child, are keeping     Watch around thee day and night.

Full set of selected poems

More about the author