Tag

Miho Kinnas

Poetry, Translation

Three poems by Ikuko Tanaka – translated by Miho Kinnas & Shelly Bryant

1.

雪の時間

 

深雪に埋めつくされた苅田は見知らぬ国の原

降り積んだ雪に記憶の風が

吹き寄せ吹きだまりができる

斜面ができる

さらに雪が降りさらに風が吹き

やがて像の耳がかたどられていった

いま おさない象が群れからはぐれたのだ

はぐれた象のために

吹雪はひそかに胴体の輪郭を描いていった

さらに雪は降りさらに風は吹き

胴体のつづきに長い鼻の輪郭を描いていった

ああ やっと

低い声で助けの信号を送りはじめたのだ

しかし 風は吹き荒れ雪を舞い上げ

やっと伸ばした鼻を消し去り

胴体を消し去り

耳のかたちひとつだけを残した

谷間の川面から吹き上げる風が

ほうほうと身をよじり

象とたわむれているのだ

だが 聞く耳ひとつあればいい

わたしは ふと自分の耳に触ってみる

わたしの一番深いところでねむっている無数の耳

忘れている耳

はぐれたわたしの耳のために

吹雪はやがてわたしの耳をかたどり始める

そのように雪は降りつづき

そのように風は吹きつづけ

 

Snow Time

 

The bare paddy field buried in deep snow is an unknown field

The wind of memory blows over the piled snow

The snow drifts

The snow slides

Some more snow falls, some more wind blows

And the drift is shaped into an elephant ear

Now a young elephant has strayed from the herd

For the stray elephant

the snowstorm slowly begins to draw his body

Some more snow falls, some more wind blows

Following the body the snowstorm outlines the trunk

Ahh- finally

a distress signal is sent out in a low voice

But the wind roughens and blows up the snow

the painstakingly stretched trunk is erased

the body is erased

only one ear is left

The wind blows, ho ho, from the river surface

in the valley twisting

and playing with the elephant

You know, though, one ear to listen is enough

I now touch my own ears

A countless number of ears are asleep

in the deepest place

The forgotten ears

For my stray ears

the snow storm begins to mold my ear

Thus some more snow falls

Thus some more wind blows

~

 2.

カヤパの庭

 

今夜、鶏が鳴く前にあなたは三度わたしを知らないと言うだろう マタイ二十六章

 

ゆうぐれの窓から

ぼんやりと椿の花を見続けると

心の底までのぞき込まれていると思う日がやってくる

赤い花の芯にとらえられ つつぬけにのぞき込まれてしまう

誘われるままに樹の下をくぐり敷石を横にたどり裏口から

あの人が裁かれているというカヤパの中庭に入る

大祭司カヤパの庭にも椿の花がいっぱい咲いていて

わたしが葉と葉の間から見ていると

「何をいっているのかわからない」と一番弟子の男が否んだ

二千年前の炭火が赤く燃え 裏切るもの死刑を望むもの

しもべや女中が集まっていた

またしても「そんな人は知らない」恐れて誓う声がした

遠く波打つガリラヤの湖から一匹の魚が泳ぎ去った

わたしが赤い花をのぞくと 男の涙がこぼれそうだった

こんなところに誰がつまずく石を置いたのだろう

三度目の声がまたしても

「その人のことは何も知らない」と言うと

追い打ちをかけるように女中が

[この人はナザレ人イエスと一緒だった]と言った

それはわたしの声だった わたしはそこにもいたのだ

静かなゆうぐれに包まれると椿の花がまっ赤に咲いて

ぼんやりしていると 鶏が鳴いて男は外に出て激しく泣く

いつのまにか二千年はあっけなく過ぎて

そのまま赤い花の形をして地面に落ちるものがある

罪も弱さもそのまま受け継いで

わたしはカヤパの庭を行ったり来たりしている

 

Caiaphas’ Courtyard

 

Verily I say unto thee, that this night, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice Matthews 26

 

Out of the window of twilight

I gaze blankly at the camellia blossoms

There comes a day the camellia sees

through to the bottom of my heart

Caught by the core of the red blossom

through and through I am seen

Being led I stoop under the branches

and step into Caiaphas’ courtyard from the back gate

where he is said to be judged

The high priest Caiaphas’ courtyard is also

filled with camellia blossoms

I watch from the space between the leaves

He denied, saying, I know not what thou sayest

Two thousand year old charcoal burns deep

who betrays and wants death

a crowd of servants and maids gathered

And again he denied with an oath, I do not know the man

A fish swims away from the far away heaving lake of Galilee

I look inside the burning

and see his tear about to overflow

Who left a stumbling stone, here?

For the third time I hear the voice, saying, I know not the man

Another maid said unto them that were there,

This fellow was also with Jesus of Nazareth

That was my voice;

I was there, too

Camellias, wrapped by the dusk, open their crimson petals

I am lost in thought; the cock crow, and the man goes outside,

cries out

Unnoticed, two thousand years have passed

Unchanged, something in the shape of a red flower

falls onto the ground passing on

Sins and weaknesses

I go to and from Caiaphas’ courtyard

 

~

3.

オブジェ

 

かつて 父たちが植林し造林につとめた杉山に分け入っ

たことがある 天に垂直なその杉の木に絡みついたカズ

ラを切るのだ きつく巻きついた紐状のものを力ずくで

引っ張る 細い毛根がびりびりと剥がれる 引きながら

解きながら木の周りをぐるぐる回る 解くと締めつけら

れた跡がケロイドのようだ

わたしは 解いたカズラを束ねて 一つの輪に編んで行

く 最初の輪につぎつぎ絡ませ 縄目を作り隙間を埋め

ながら 偶然にゆだねてオブジェを作る 壁掛けを作っ

ていく 隙間には野の花と杉の実とカモガヤの野を飾る

と 朝と夕を加え小鳥も加えることになって ドライフ

ラワーの壁掛けとなる やがて乾いてくるとピソンの川

もユフラテの川も流れはじめる 浅瀬の葦の間にきのう

誘われた聡い蛇のことばを置く これがわたしの園であ

る それを玄関に飾る 誰にも気づかれない わたしだ

けのオブジェの中で わたしは いまだエバのままであ

り 出る時も入る時も 魂のありかをとわれつづけてい

るように思う

 

 

(Miho Kinnas’s translation of an essay by Akira Kisa, Where Bibliobattles Are was published in Asian Literary Journal Cha in June, 2017.  More poems by Ikuko Tanaka in translation can be found at Poetry Kanto.)

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Miho Kinnas was re-transplanted from Shanghai to Carolina. Her poetry collection Today Fish Only was published by Math Paper Press in 2015, and her work also appears in The Classical Gardens of Shanghai (HKU Press 2016) and Quixoteca: Poems East of La Mancha (Chameleon Press 2016). Her translations have been published in Star*Line (2015) and Cha (2017)

 

Haruki Murakami

I buy his new book, Killing Commendatore, and get on the bus. It’s written in his usual style but sentences seem slightly longer. Does he use more layered adjectives? Or there are more parallel nouns.

The bus I am on turns left. It should have been the right turn. The machine voice names an unfamiliar stop. I’ve been on this route since childhood. The bus passes a grey complex. It skips a hospital with two ambulances parked outside. The sign on the street corner reads The Town of Boat in the Bay. I have heard the name before. Like a cat watching an intruder, I was ready to jump off any minute.

Oh, I know. Murakami uses more metaphors than before. Rather elaborate metaphors. I did check the destination when I got on the bus. I wonder whether a wife goes missing as she normally is in the books he writes. The voice says the next bus stop will be my usual stop.

 

~

He Who Loves Bullet Trains

 

If sadness has a shape, it’d be uneven.

Shin Godzilla steps, steps on houses, houses, houses.

Spatial memory builds along the track.

A missing piece is replaced. But.

 

If dream draws a line, it’d be disconnected.

Things don’t go as planned. Therefore.

A little fugue will ring at the next stop.

Shinkan sen

 

It’s too fast; my heart is still at Tokyo Station.

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Miho Kinnas – two poems

Miho Kinnas was re-transplanted from Shanghai to Carolina. She struggles with non-metric units but is beginning to carry on with writerly activities.

Her poetry collection Today Fish Only was published by Math Paper Press in 2015, and her work also appears in The Classical Gardens of Shanghai (HKU Press 2016) and Quixoteca: Poems East of La Mancha (Chameleon Press 2016). Her translations have been published in Star*Line (2015) and Equatorial Calm (2016)

 

Seeing an Old Friend in Kyoto

Wind turns

The scent is

Andromeda

 

Two pebbles

expand

the white ocean

 

Thirty years

not wasted

Thirty years

~

Afternoon Yellow

To counterbalance

a kettle and a sponge

ex-lovers stand by

 

A story is

the notations

in the margin

 

Fill the glass

let water overflow

braid with light

 

Must practice

studying you

quickly

 

I examine

the relationships

by rotating my notebook

 

I coat the sky

yellow ocre, much white

and a touch of black

 

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