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Beautiful People Beautiful Rituals Beautiful Things

Exercise in translating Yet Another Beauty

宇宙の漆黒の闇のなかを
ひっそりまわる水の星
まわりには仲間もなく親戚もなく
まるで孤独な星なんだ

Hushed, Star of Water rotates in laquar black darkness of our universe

no friends or family and kin around, an isolated lonely star it is

生まれてこのかた
なにに一番驚いたかと言えば
水一滴もこぼさずに廻る地球を
外からパチリと写した一枚の写真

Surprising to one, the planet earth rotates without so much as spilling any drop of its water, one photograph capturing such a shot from above

こういうところに棲んでいましたか
これを見なかった昔のひととは
線引きできるほどの意識の差が出てくる筈なのに
みんなわりあいぼんやりしている

an epithany of sorts – blue star of water taking up residence in such lonesome spot

Compared to people in the old times who had not seen this photo, surely seeing such a photo should evoke a defenitive change in consciousness

but

we are rather blase

太陽からの距離がほどほどで
それで水がたっぷりと渦まくのであるらしい
中は火の玉だっていうのに
ありえない不思議 蒼い星

Distanced just right from the sun, which apparently is why the water swirls

all the while a ball of fire at its core

such an impossible mystery

is this blue star

すさまじい洪水の記憶が残り
ノアの箱舟の伝説が生まれたのだろうけれど
善良な者たちだけが選ばれて積まれた船であったのに
子子孫孫のていたらくを見れば この言い伝えもいたって怪しい

Memory of tremendous flood remains

to give birth to the legend of Noah’s Arc

Yet if only the noble and good were selected to survive, the current predecament of those children and grandchilden, Noah’s decendents, give doubts to the legend

軌道を逸れることもなく いまだ死の星にもならず
いのちの豊饒を抱えながら
どこかさびしげな 水の星
極小の一分子でもある人間が ゆえなくさびしいのもあたりまえであたりまえすぎることは言わないほうがいいのでしょう

Never deviating from the orbit never fallen off its course like a death star

embracing lives abundant with fertility

and yet a bit lonesome, this star of water

humans, miniscule at a molecular level here on earth, being lonely is stating such an obvious, probably best not to state that obvious

            (ポケット詩集Ⅲ 童話屋より)

Would AI do a better job translating literary work as well ? I wonder … how disconnected we may feel if one no longer ponders what the poet felt when she penned her thoughts on paper in the first place decades ago … if AI can do it all, how would she feel ? I am of course asking a rhetorical question and yes stating the obvious. Should I state the obvious? 

Categories
Beautiful People Beautiful Places Beautiful Rituals Beautiful Things

Summer 2024

An Ode to the Summer Stars

So bright you are

glorious abundant stars shower, a downpour across the night sky

Antares, angry red, the brightest star of Scorpion

Forever the target to Saggitarious’ steady arrow

Indus, where might you be, as

the Swan flys gracefully over the flow of milky way

Deneb, a first star shining its tail on a long necked swan

Andromeda, still a cursed captive,

Corona Borealis, still awaiting its king to adorn the crown

star speckels, comets, namesless particles of dust, shine upon us

such is the boundless beauty

I no longer desire jewels on this earth as

I have seen your beauty in our galaxy and beyond

this universe

Noriko Ibaragi (translated by K. Tsuyama, summer 2024)
Categories
Beautiful People Beautiful Places Beautiful Rituals

”June” by Noriko Ibaragi

June

Is there a beautiful village somewhere

where at the end of a day, dark foamy stout beer

resting the hoe against a wall, resting the basket

men and women raise their large jock

Is there a beautiful town somewhere

streets lined with edibile berries continue forever, smuding into a horizon of violet sunset skies

Gentle sounds of crowds of young people milling around, foam up the air to its very brim

Is there beautiful people and people power somewhere

Power of connection and delight in together living this now, this present moment, this same generation

sharing our rage that sharpen into furious power

Noriko Ibaragi

translated by K. Tsuyama, June 2024 in California:)

This poem by Noriko Ibaragi was first published June 21, 1956 on Asahi newspaper in Japan. She had just turned 30 that same month. I can sense her longings even though its generations ago in distant land and divergent culture … it’s a timeless. It’s timeless, that longing where we want to make a difference – we want to rebel – to be the changemaker for a better world while engulfed in anger. Rather than in gratitude for those who struggled to lead a path before us, we were furious. We were enraged. The poet was young. We were all young dreamers, whether drunk or sober.

That same longing is timeless.

And now I long to be back in that time…of earnest longings

to feel the strength of togetherness

when we felt that we had the power for a change.