Eric Hoffman


A Translation of Sumitaku Kenshin's 試作帳 (Experiment Book)


たいくつな病室の窓に雨をいただく 
taikutsuna byōshitsu no mado ni ame o itadaku


Hospital room tedium 
relieved by rain
at the window



だんだんさむくなる夜の黒い電話機 
dandan samuku naru yoru no kuroi denwaki


Gradually becoming colder,
the black telephone
in the night



雨音にめざめてより降りつづく雨 
ama-oto ni mezamete yori furi-tsuzuku ame


Wakened by the sound of rain,
rain continues to fall
　


カガミの中のむくんだ顔なでてみる 
kagami no naka no mukunda kao nadete miru　


My swollen face
in the mirror
I caress



点滴と白い月とがぶらさがっている夜
tenteki to shiroi tsuki to ga burasagatte iru yoru

 
White moon and an infusion bag
suspended in the night



だまって夜の天井をみている 
damatte yoru no tenjō o mite iru


In evening silence,
I study the ceiling



窓は遠く墓地のある山とむかいあう 
mado wa tōku bochi no aru yama to mukaiau


My window faces
a distant mountain
cemetery



焼け跡のにごり水流れる
yakeato no nigori-mizu nagareru


Through the ruins of a fire 
muddy water flows



あけっぱなした窓が青空だ 
akeppanashita mado ga aozora da


Window left open
to a clear blue sky



一つの墓を光らせ墓山夕やけ 
hitotsu no haka o hikarase haka-yama yūyake


Mountain cemetery—
a tomb shines
in twilight



退院がのびた日の昼月が窓をのぞく
taiin ga nobita hi no hiru-zuki ga mado o nozoku


Hospital discharge postponed—
midday moon seen through the window



夜の点滴にうつすまがった月だ 
yoru no tenteki ni utsusu magatta tsuki da


Evening IV reflects
a crooked moon



寝れぬ夜の顔あらっている 
nerarenu yoru no kao aratte iru


Night without sleep,
I rinse my face



淋しさは夜の電話の黒い光沢 
sabishisa wa yoru no denwa no kuroi kōtaku


Loneliness—
at night the black polish
of the telephone



赤ん坊の寝顔へそっと戸をしめる 
akanbō no negao e sotto to o shimeru


My baby's sleeping face—
quietly I close the door



螢光灯の音のみの静けさにおる 
keikōtō no oto nomi no shizukesa ni oru


Hum of the fluorescent lamp—
I am engulfed by silence



退職願出してきた枕元に朝が来ていた 
taishoku-negai dashite-kita makuramoto ni asa ga kite ita


Letter of resignation submitted,
another morning approaches my pillow



夜の窓にふとうつる顔がある 
yoru no mado ni futo utsuru kao ga aru


Evening window—
suddenly my face
is there



看護婦らの声光りあう朝の廻診
kangofu-ra no koe hikariau asa no kaishin 


Bright voices of nurses
I see on their morning rounds



今日がはじまる検温器のふたとる 
kyō ga hajimaru ken’onki no futa toru


The day begins—
I remove the lid
from the thermometer



念仏の口が愚痴ゆうていた
nenbutsu no kuchi ga guchi yūte ita


The nenbutsu in my mouth
turns into idle complaints



泣くだけ泣いて気の済んだ泣き顔
naku dake naite ki no sunda naki-gao


Having cried my heart out,
the look of relief
of my tear-stained face



降りはじめた雨が夜の心音 
furi-hajimeta ame ga yoru no shin’on


Rain begins to fall—
the night's heartbeat



洗面器の中のゆがんだ顔すくいあげる
semmenki no naka no yuganda kao sukuiageru


Inside the washbasin
my distorted face



曇り空重く話くいちがっている 
kumori-zora omoku hanashi kuichigatte iru


Heavy overcast sky,
not what I expected



朝をおくらせて窓に降る雨 
asa o okurasete mado ni furu ame


Morning delayed
by the rain that falls
outside the window



合掌するその手が蚊をうつ 
gasshō suru sono te ga ka o utsu 


The same hands 
clasped in prayer
swat the mosquitoes



どうにもならぬこと考えていて夜が深まる 
dōnimo naranu koto kangaete ite yoru ga fukamaru


Pondering the fact
that there is nothing to do—
evening deepens



血の乏しい身体の朝のぬいてゆかれる血 
chi no toboshii karada no asa no nuite yukareru chi


Anemic,
another blood test
this morning



針を持つ暖かき手が手をつつんでくれる
hari o motsu atatakaki te ga te o tsutsunde kureru


Needlework—
her warm hands
gently hold my hands



薬が生涯の友となるのか今朝の薬 
kusuri ga shōgai no tomo to naru no ka kesa no kusuri


This medicine,
a lifetime companion,
this morning's medicine



脈を計っただけの平安な朝です 
myaku o hakatta dake no heian’na asa desu


My pulse measured,
all they've done
this tranquil morning



夢にさえ付添の妹のエプロン 
yume ni sae tsukisoi no imōto no epuron


Even in dreams,
my sister's apron
attends to my bedside



病んで遠い日のせみの声 
yande tōi hi no semi no koe


Cicada song—
I have not heard it
since I became ill



こわした身体で夏を生きる 
kowashita karada de natsu o ikiru


This summer,
with this broken body,
I somehow manage to survive



歩きたい廊下に爽やかな夏の陽のさす 
arukitai rōka ni sawayakana natsu no hi no sasu


I would like to walk the corridor
where the summer sun shines



机に一本の牛乳が置かれ今日の朝日さす
tsukue ni ippon no gyūnyū ga okare kyō no asahi sasu


On the table
a bottle of milk
glimmers in the morning sun



朝露をふんで秋風の墓をまいる 
asa-tsuyu o funde aki-kaze no haka o mairu


I walk amid morning dew
and visit a grave
in the autumn breeze



報恩の風の中に念仏 
hōon no kaze no naka ni nenbutsu


To give him thanks,
nenbutsu in the wind



雨降りは遊びに行けないボクの長ぐつ 
ame-furi wa asobi ni ikenai boku no nagagutsu


Rain falls
and he cannot go out to play—
rubber boots



裸をふいてもらい月にのぞかれていた 
hadaka o fuite morai tsuki ni nozokarete ita


Naked body dried,
spied on by the moon



ネオンの明るさ月が締めだされている 
neon no akarusa tsuki ga shimedasarete iru


Neon brightness
excludes the light
of the moon



夜が明けてくる窓に歩む 
yo ga akete kuru mado ni ayumu


The day dawns slowly,
I walk up
to the window



淋しさをワープロがたたきつけていく文字
sabishisa o wāpuro ga tatakitsukete iku moji


Loneliness suggested
by the word processor's
clickclack tap of letters



また帰って来るはずの扉開けて出て行く 
mata kaette kuru hazu no tobira akete dete yuku


In expectation of my return,
I leave the door open
when I leave



雨に仕事をとられて街が朝寝している 
ame ni shigoto o torarete machi ga asane shite iru


Work removed by rain,
the town sleeps late



台風が来るというラジオ混線している 
taifū ga kuru to iu rajio konsen shite iru　


Typhoon's approach announced,
the radio shorts out　



灰皿にもみけしていさかうつもりはない 
haizara ni momikeshite isakau tsumori wa nai


Cigarette stubbed out in the ashtray
with no intention to dispute



病んでこんなにもやせた月を窓に置く
yande kon’nani mo yaseta tsuki o mado ni oku


Weak from illness,
thin moon in the window



坐ることができて昼の雨となる 
suwaru koto ga dekite hiru no ame to naru


I can sit up—
daytime rain begins



流れにさからうまい歩けるだけを歩く 
nagare ni sakarau mai arukeru dake o aruku


I won't go against the tide—
I will walk as far as possible



淋しさが池に波紋をつくっている 
sabishisa ga ike ni hamon o tsukutte iru


Loneliness—
sadness ripples
in the pond



おなべはあたたかい我が家の箸でいただく 
o-nabe wa atatakai waga ya no hashi de itadaku


Home-cooked hot pot
eaten with chopsticks



盃にうれしい顔があふれる 
sakazuki ni ureshii kao ga afureru


Sake cup filled to the brim—
my face rejoices



夜の窓に肌寒い雨の曲線 
yoru no mado ni hadazamui ame no kyokusen


At night the icy rain
curves on the window



こうして病いが玉子をむく指先
kōshite yamai ga tamago o muku yubisaki


My sick fingers shell
this hard-boiled egg



影もそまつな食事をしている 
kage mo somatsuna shokuji o shite iru


My shadow, too,
enjoys a poor side dish



一日の終り一日の始まりの検温 
ichinichi no owari ichinichi no hajimari no ken’on 


Temperature taken—
the day begins,
the day ends



廻診も終りまた横になるだけの時間 
kaishin mo owari mata yoko ni naru dake no jikan


After the medical rounds,
not much else to do
but lie down in bed again



枕の耳が廻診のくつ音を知っている
makura no mimi ga kaishin no kutsu-oto o shitte iru


Ears against the pillow,
I still recognize the doctor's visit
by his footsteps



早い雨音の秋が来た病室 
hayai ama-oto no aki ga kita byōshitsu


The rain's rhythm is steady—
autumn comes to the hospital



氷枕にうずめた顔に今日が過ぎていく 
kōri-makura ni uzumeta kao ni kyō ga sugite iku


Head pressed 
into an ice pillow,
the day passes by



意見のくいちがい寝床のそれぞれの枕 
iken no kuichigai nedoko no sorezore no makura


A difference of opinions—
one pillow on each bed



廊下を走りたい風が待合室の掲示 
rōka o hashiritai kaze ga machiaishitsu no keiji


I want to run down the hall
like the wind that disturbs
the waiting room bulletins



窓に雨がけむる明日への不安 
mado ni ame ga kemuru asu e no fuan


Rain drizzle fogs the window—
I am anxious about tomorrow



忘れかけていた思いが夏雲を見る時 
wasure kakete ita omoi ga natsu-gumo o miru toki


Summer cloud—
a thought nearly forgotten
returns



少しなら歩けて朝の光を入れる 
sukoshi nara arukete asa no hikari o ireru


I can only take a short walk
and let the morning sunshine in



消灯の放送があってそれからの月が明るい 
shōtō no hōsō ga atte sorekara no tsuki ga akarui


Announcement of the extinguishing of the lamps
and then how bright the moon



秋が来たことをまず聴診器の冷たさ 
aki ga kita koto o mazu chōshinki no tsumetasa


Autumn has come—
the stethoscope is cold



星がない夜の長いカーテンをひく 
hoshi ga nai yoru no nagai kāten o hiku


No stars in the sky—
night's long curtains drawn



両手に星をつかみたい子のバンザイ 
ryōte ni hoshi o tsukamitai ko no banzai


My little boy
wanting to touch the stars,
raises high his hands



ねむれぬ日々の枕うらがえす
nemurenu hi-bi no makura uragaesu


Sleepless, 
night after night,
my pillow flipped over



エレベーターの顔の中のひとつの顔
erebētā no kao no naka no hitotsu no kao


My face
just one of many 
in the elevator



月、静かに氷枕の氷がくずれる 
tsuki, shizukani kōri-makura no kōri ga kuzureru


The moon,
quietly the ice crumbles
in my ice pillow



さめて思い出せない不安な夢である 
samete omoidasenai fuan’na yume de aru


I wake from anxious dreams
I do not remember



後になり先になり歩く影も二人の歩幅 
ato ni nari saki ni nari aruku kage mo futari no hohaba


In front or behind
our shadows 
keep pace with us



気の抜けたサイダーが僕の人生 
ki no nuketa saidā ga boku no jinsei


Flat cider
is my life



白い雲遊ばせて青空機嫌良し 
shiroi kumo asobasete aozora kigen yoshi


At play with the white clouds,
the blue sky is in good spirits



面会謝絶の戸を開けて冬がやってくる 
menkai-shazetsu no to o akete fuyu ga yatte kuru


Winter comes,
opens the door that says
No Visitors



あさり、うっかり閉じ忘れた口をとじる 
asari, ukkari toji-wasureta kuchi o tojiru


A distracted clam,
mouth left open,
closes it in a hurry



淋しい犬の犬らしく尾をふる 
sabishii inu no inu rashiku o o furu


A lonesome dog
wags its tail
like a dog



窓に病人ばかりがたえている冬空 
mado ni byōnin bakari ga taete iru fuyu-zora


The sick,
reflected in the window,
endure the winter sky



またオリオンにのぞかれている冬夜 
mata orion ni nozokarete iru fuyu-yo


Again Orion
looks down at me—
winter night



冬の長い影をおとして歩く 
fuyu no nagai kage o otoshite aruku


Winter's long shadow
cast as I walk
 


地をはっても生きていたいみのむし 
chi o hatte mo ikite itai minomushi


A worm, 
even crawling on the ground
I would want to live



水たまりの冬空がゆれている 
mizutamari no fuyu-zora ga yurete iru


In a puddle of water,
the winter sky trembles



虫がはりついたまま冬の窓となる 
mushi ga haritsuita mama fuyu no mado to naru


Bug stuck to the window—
winter has come



いつも見上げている黒い電話機が鳴る
itsumo miagete iru kuroi denwaki ga naru


Always above my bed,
the black telephone rings



バイバイは幼いボクの掌の裏表 
baibai wa osanai boku no te no ura-omote


Bye-bye says my little boy,
palm of his hand, back and front



死後さえもうばわれて英霊という墓がならぶ 
shigo sae mo ubawarete eirei to iu haka ga narabu


Even in a world without death,
there are so many tombs
for the soldier's ghosts



考えこんでいる影も歩く 
kangaekonde iru kage mo aruku


In contemplation,
my shadow walks with me



牛乳が届かない雨の朝のけだるさ 
gyūnyū ga todokanai ame no asa no kedarusa


Milk not yet delivered,
rainy lazy morning



思い出の雲がその顔になる
omoide no kumo ga sono kao ni naru


A cloud in my memory
becomes that face



「一人死亡」というデジタルの冷たい表示
hitori shibō to iu dejitaru no tsumetai hyōji


One person's death
digitally read—
an icy expression



仕事のない指が考えごとをしている 
shigoto no nai yubi ga kangaegoto o shite iru


Without work to do,
my fingers are lost
in thought



窓にまよいこんで行先のない雲 
mado ni mayoikonde yukisaki no nai kumo


Lost at my window
without destination—
a cloud



夕陽の影が背を丸めたランドセル 
yūhi no kage ga se o marumeta randoseru


Randoseru on the back,
its shadow arched
in the setting sun



黒衣一枚、凡夫である私が歩いている 
kokui ichi-mai, bonpu de aru watashi ga aruite iru


In a black robe,
I am an ordinary person
walking



そこを曲れば月を背に帰るばかり 
soko o magareba tsuki o se ni kaeru bakari


I round the corner
to return,
moonlight on my back



湯気の中一つ一つ顔から出てくる 
yuge no naka hitotsu hitotsu kao kara dete kuru


From the steam of the bath,
one by one
the faces come out



お茶をついでもらう私がいっぱいになる 
o-cha o tsuide morau watashi ga ippaini naru


Tea refilled
fills me up

Eric 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.

He writes: "Sumitaku Kenshin (住宅顕信, 1961-1987) was born Sumitaku Harumi (住宅春美) on March 21, 1961, in Okayama City, Okayama Prefecture. Initially intending to become a chef, in April 1976 Harumi entered Shimoda Gakuen Culinary School, from which he graduated in 1978. Around this time he began to familiarize himself with poetry, religion, and philosophy, and in September 1982, initiated his studies in Buddhism via a correspondence course through the Central Buddhism Academy (中央仏教学院). One year later, in July 1983, he became a priest of the Pure Land sect of Jodo Shinshu Hongwanji at the Nishi-Honganji (西本願寺) temple in Kyoto, where he was given the Buddhist name Saku Kenshin (roughly translated: "blossoming devotion"). That October, Kenshin married. The following February, he was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia and hospitalized at the Okayama Municipal Hospital. Upon learning of their new son-in-law's poor health, his wife's parents demanded a divorce, which she was awarded, but not before she became pregnant with Kenshin's child; a boy, Haruki, born in June 1984. Kenshin's parents took custody of Haruki yet, as Kenshin's sister Keiko worked in the Okayama Municipal Hospital, Haruki mostly lived with him in his hospital room. It was during this hospitalization that Kenshin discovered the work of Ozaki Hōsai and other New Trend haiku poets, including Nomura Shurindō, Taneda Santōka, Kaidō Hōko, and Ogiwara Seisensui. Kenshin became a member of the haiku group Sōun, studying under the tutelage of Sanikichi Ikeda. In 1985, Kenshin's improved health allowed him to leave the hospital, yet he soon suffered a relapse and had to be readmitted. Perhaps aware that he did not have long to live, in December, Kenshin self-published in clothbound hardcover his first collection, 試作帳 Shisaku-chō, here translated as Experiment Book, though previously rendered as Trial Pieces and Experimental Notebook; shisaku means trial manufacture, experiment, test piece, or prototype, though it can also mean the composition of a poem, and chō is a book, notebook, or album. In 1986, two of his poems were published in the journal Sōun, and another ninety in the free rhythm haiku journal Kaishi. Still others were published in Umiichi, of which he became a contributing editor. On February 7, 1987, just before his 26th birthday, Kenshin died of leukemia. His entire body of work, 281 haiku, were composed in the last twenty months of his life. In 1988, his complete haiku, Unfinished (未完成 Mikansei), was published."

 
 

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