Eric Hoffman More Translations of Haiku by Ozaki Hōsai At Jōkō Temple, Obama, 1925 背を汽車通る草ひく顔をあげず A train passes as I weed the grass— I don’t look up あたまをそつて帰る青梅たくさん落ちてる Head shaved, I return home— the plums have fallen 時計が動いて居る寺の荒れてゐる Time passes— the temple falls into decay するどい風の中で別れようとする We try to say goodbye— our words lost to the wind どんどん泣いてしまつた児の顔 Face red and wet— the child stops crying 新緑の山となり山の道となり The mountain greens and a path reappears 田舎の小さな新聞をすぐに読んでしまつた Small town newspaper takes only moments to read どろぼう猫の目と睨みあつてる自分であつた I recognize the eyes of the alley cat 留守番をして地震にゆられて居る Alone in the temple shaken by an earthquake 臍に湯をかけて一人夜中の温泉である Midnight— alone at a hot spring, splash water on my belly 病人らしう見て居る庭の雑草 I stare at the garden weeds as though bedridden 豆を水にふくらませて置く春ひと夜 Beans swell in spring water— evening かぎりなく蟻が出てくる穴の音なく In silence a thousand ants appear 戻りは傘をかついで帰る橋であつた Headed home— umbrella on my shoulder as I cross the bridge 笑ふ時の前歯がはえて来たは Laughter— teeth increase! 百姓らしい顔が庫裡の戸をあけた He opens the door to the temple kitchen— his face like a peasant’s 和尚とたつた二人で呑んで酔って来た Drinking with the Buddhist priest, I become tipsy 釘箱の釘がみんな曲つて居る Every nail in the box is crooked 豆を煮つめる自分の一日だつた Beans to cook— more daylight than water 二階から下りて来てひるめしにする I descend the stairs and decide to eat 海がよく凪いで居る村の呉服屋 Village fabric store— ocean of calm 蜘蛛がすうと下りて来た朝を眼の前にす I awake to see the spider’s slow descent 銅像に悪口ついて行つてしまつた He cursed the bronze statue then left 雨のあくる日の柔らかな草をひいて居る Easy to weed the rain-soaked ground きちんと座つて居る朝の竹四五本ある Solemn morning— three or four bamboo threads 蛙たくさん鳴かせ灯を消して寝る Frogs croak— I turn off the lamp then go to sleep 池の朝がはじまる水すましである Pond illuminated by the morning sun うつろの心に眼が二つあいてゐる Empty mind, hollow heart— eyes wide open 小さい橋に来て荒れる海が見える Rough sea approaches a small bridge 淋しいからだから爪がのび出す From my lonely body nails grow 屋根草風ある田舎に来てゐる Grassy countryside— we greet one another ころりと横になる今日が終つて居る The day ends— I lie on my stomach 海がまつ青な昼の床屋にはいる The sea is blue— I’m at the barber’s 久しぶりのわが顔がうつる池に来てゐる I pass by a pond— my reflection is a stranger 何やら鍋に煮えて居る僧をたづね I visit the monk— something’s cooking in a pot 1925 (Kyoto) 山寺灯されて見て通る Mountain pass, lights of a temple 宵のくちなしの花を嗅いで君に見せる I smell the gardenia and show it to you 蜘蛛 がとんぼをとつた軒の下に住んでる Under the eaves— a spider catches a dragonfly 旧暦の節句の鯉がをどつて居る New Year’s Eve— now the calendar is oldEric Hoffman is the author of Circumference of the Sun (Dos Madres, 2021), and the editor of Conversations with John Berryman (University Press of Mississippi, 2021) and a new edition of Philip Pain's Daily Meditations (Spuyten Duyvil, 2021). He lives in Connecticut.
previous page     contents     next page
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home