Translation | “Poetry of daybreak and evening” The Hyacinth Library Part 2 by Michizo Tachihara, 1937

I. On a wind

My heart was full of you, the west wind
The loose song that still wouldn’t stop, on a rainy morning
In the light of a closed window
As I chewed a sad sentiment

I remembered, trembling, a fear
We don’t know things……
Each evening, it blew by the side that shone
It already, was bent, weighed on my heart
The melody far, which you sang…
Did it pull him, that
He forgot…… Finally

When each evening would change to night, the clouds would pass away
In the pale black was poured and came
You, the west wind, you would lose all things, you would say

II. Autumn soon

Soon autumn will come
The evening chatted with us intimately
Trees like the old man’s gestures
Cast dark, open shadows on the direction of the night

All things swayed uncertainly
More like a silent, light sigh……
(It’s not yesterday, it’s tomorrow)
Our feelings, whispered and evaded
–Autumn, like that, returned
Then, still autumn, remained motionless
Like a man begging for mercy……

Sooner or later the memory of I never forgot
But there was no memory, we passed on
The autumn…… so…… to an evening still–

III. A little stroll

One person could turn on the light
At the coast, who read a book was another person
Because a silent room, a low voice
At the corner, I can listen (All people listened)

One person could turn off the light
At the coast, who fell asleep was another person
A woman who spun and sang
Outside the windows, you can listen (All the people listened)
Many nights and many nights went by like that–
The wind was shouting, and on the tower, the cop was making himself known
–Soldiers hoisted flags, donkeys blew their bells–

And then the morning came, the real morning came
Night came again, night came again, night came again
This room, empty, remained in the suite

IV. Invitation to sleep

Good night, the girls faces had kind faces
Good night, they knitted her black hair
At their bedside around the candlestick that lit walnut colour
Something alive existed (In the whole world there’s powdered snow)

I wanted to sing indefinitely
Outside the dark window, inside the window
Then, to enter in the dormis, in the depths of the dreams
Then I repeated and repeated, I wanted to sing
Like a candle
Like the wind, like stars
My voice went here and there like melodies

And they, the white flowers of the apple would blossom
And gave little green fruits, they ripened red with sympathetic speed
In a short time, while sleeping, they could watch the dreams

V. To the rain of a midwinter night

Where was he going?
But he had nothing
All, lost long ago
Somewhere, far away, the place I did not know

The night of the midwinter rain sang
Even the air when she was waiting
But this air she did not return
Far, far away, the place I didn’t know
Names of things that lost, intolerable
Of a cold repetition–
Even that, I, thought our ears

Beyond time, this blue sky is very clear!
These hopes alone remained, and, why they congratulated
One did not know who, the bottom of the eye of this person

VI. To the night lost

The sloe was burnt, that burnt
It was not, of blue papilla
Or brown sloe, shining
Stung my heart

How it made me cry
But it did not
She caressed me with her shine
And praised my too kind heart
The sloe was burnt, it didn’t move
She was not a blue papilla
As they existed, indefinitely

The sloe was burnt, which was silent
I forgot the sun and herbs smelled good
Sadly alone, shining, shining, burning

VII. To darkness overflowed and soaked

If he was handsome, did better laugh
Tears, forever, were dry
The sun, was setting in the great landscape yonder
Very sad, this moon was burning

It’s cold! we were burst by the light
Fragile people wandered and wandered
Me, I would have lived where– answer
At night, or in the morning, or in the half-light
I, once I had been who?
(I wasn’t who, I could be anyone, anyone–)
I lost the shadow of the woman I loved

Was trampled and broken, my hope was kind
I would only fall asleep, in sleep
For I would melt an aspiration

VIII. On the edge of sleep

Silence, like a blue cloud
Kind, would fall upon me
I, like a little wild animal was felled
Into a sleep I’d plunge, motionless just now

Still, whispered the lost melody
Floating clouds of spring, fledglings, flowers, and shadows, beckoned
But they are not of my possession yet
That day, my appearance that lowered my arms and only walked too
I, at night, turned on the light, before sleep
Beside the shining light, and they would simply melt away
In the dream, was not competent that the dream

Live on the shadow, and when I ran out of time
Still the memory, like a sigh, weaker than silence
Would have made the words sing

IX. Wandering

It is night–all the windows, would take the lamps
Paths, alone, clear weak, unlimited
Endured…… going on they
It was me, alone, all alone, without pursuing

The moon, was already setting, these
Like gentle music, there was no breeze
The landscapes shook, and erased with the dream
I, simply, in sleep, would follow deeper sleep and oblivion……
Now still, if one would take me in great affection
To her, my hands were very thin, to support
By her weight, I was thirsty to stagger and fall

Oh, the blaze of the rising sun! Come quickly– sleep! Wake up……
Closed in by the ash haze, froze me, a short day
When it came, the night wandering, the dream, I only regretted!

X. The blaze of the rising sun

Last night’s sleep, on dirty corpses
Who, sat?
From those deep, black eyelids, even now
One thing I drew, what is it?

So much, in my room like a prison
Like a temple, sparkling, undulating
Where was that music gone?
Where was that past form?
Ah, that place there, that remained?
Vain, empty, my youth was transferred!
I didn’t want to wait for you

Yet motionless, sat you at the corner of my bed
Watching this, who is it?
As one knew, and would take, the secret of last night’s sleep

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Traduction | « Poésie du lever fu jour et de la soirée » La Bibliothèque d’hyacinthus Partie 2 de Michizo Tachihara, 1937

I. Sur un vent

Mon cœur était plein de toi, le vent d’ouest
La chanson relâchée qui n’arrêtait pas encore, au matin de pluie
À la lumière de une fenêtre fermée
Pendant je mastiquais une sentiment triste

Je me souvenais, de tremblant, de une crainte
Nous ne connaissons pas des choses……
Chaque de soirée, il soufflait par le côté qui brillait
Il déjà, était plié, pesait sur mon cœur
La mélodie loin, qui tu chantais–
Est-ce qui lui tirait, qui
Lui oubliait…… Enfin

Quand chaque soirée changerait à la nuit, les nuage décédaient
Dans le noir pâle était versé et venait
Toi, le vent d’ouest, tu perdrais toutes les choses, tu dirais

II. L’autumn bientôt

Bientôt, l’autumn, sera venu
Le soirée bavardait avec nous intimement
Des arbres comme les gestes du vieille
Jetaient ombres découvertes et sombres sur la direction du nuit

Toutes les choses ballottaient incertaines
Plutôt comme un soupir silencieux et légère……
(Il n’est pas hier, c’est demain)
Nos sentiments, chuchotaient et esquivaient
–L’autumn, comme ça, revenait
Ensuite, encore l’autumn, restait immobile
Comme un homme qui demander la grâce……

Tôt ou tard le souvenir de je n’oubliais pas
Mais, il n’y pas avait de souvenir, on passait
L’autumn…… ainsi…… à un soir encore–

III. Petite ballade

Une personne pouvait allumer la lumière
À la côte, qui lire une livre était autre personne
Parce que une chambre silencieuse, une voix basse
Au coin, je peux écouter (Touts les gens écoutait)

Uue personne pouvait éteindre la lumière
À la côte, qui endormait était autre personne
Une femme qui filait et chantait
À dehors des fenêtres, on peut bien écouté (Touts les gens écoutait)
Beaucoup des nuits et beaucoup des nuits passaient semblables–
Le vent criais, et sur le tour, le cop faisait connaître
–Soldats hissaient drapeaux, ânes faisait sonner ses grelots–

Et puis, le matin arrivait, le vrai matin arrivait
Encore la nuit arrivait, encore, nouvelle nuit arrivait
Cette chambre, vide, restait à la suite

IV. Invitation du sommeil

Bonne nuit, les filles visages avaient visages gentiles
Bonne nuit, elles tricotaient ses cheveux noirs
À chevet des elles autour du chandelier qui allumait du couleur noyer
Quelque chose vive existait (Dan le monde entier il y a de poudre de neige)

Je voulais chanter indéfiniment
Dehors la fenêtre sombre, à dans le fenêtre
Puis, entrer dans les dormis, aux ses fonds des rêves
Ensuite, je répétais et répétais, je voulais chanter
Comme une bougie
Comme le vent, comme des étoiles
Mon voix allait çà et là comme des mélodies

Et elles, les fleurs blancs de la pomme fleuriraient
Et donnaient des petits fruits verts, ils mûrissaient en rouge avec vitesse sympathique
Dans un temps court, en dormant, elles pouvaient regarder les rêves

V. À la pluie de une nuit du plein hiver

Où est-ce qu’il allait?
Mais il n’avait rien
Tous, perdaient depuis longtemps
Quelque part, lointain, la place je ne savais pas

La nuit de la pluie du plein hiver, chantait
Même de l’air quand elle attendait
Mais cet air qu’elle ne revenait pas
Loin, lointain, la place je ne savais pas
Noms des choses qui perdaient, intolérable
D’une répétition froide–
Même ça, je, pensais nos oreilles

Au-delà du temps, ce ciel bleu est très clair!
Ces espoirs seuls restaient, et, pourquoi ils félicitaient
On ne savait pas qui, le fond d’œil de cette personne

VI. À la nuit perdait

La prunelle était brûlée, qui brûlait
Elle n’était pas, de papille bleue
Ou de prunelle brune, en brillant
Piquait, mon cœur

Comme elle me faisait pleure
Mais, elle ne faisait pas
En brillant, elle me caressait
Et félicitait mon cœur trop gentil
La prunelle était brûlée, qui ne bougeait pas
Elle n’était pas, de papille bleue
Comme elles existaient, indéfiniment

La prunelle était brûlée, qui était silencieuse
J’oubliais le soleil et des herbes avaient bon parfum
Tristement seule, en brillant, en brillant, qui brûlait

VII. À l’obscurité débordait et trempait

Si il était beau, faisait mieux de rire
Pleurs, pour toujours, étaient sécher
Le soleil, se couchait à la grande paysage là-bas
Très triste, cette lune s’enflammait

C’est froid! on était éclaté par la lumière
Le gens frêle errait et vaguait
Moi, je aurai vécu où– répondez
À la nuit, ou au matin, ou à la pénombre
Moi, autrefois je avais été qui?
(Je n’était pas qui, Je peux être n’importe qui, quelqu’un–)
Moi, je perdait l’ombre de la femme j’aimais

Était foulé et casée, mon espoir était gentil
Je m’endormirait seulement, dans le sommeil
Pour je me fondrait une aspiration

VIII. Au bord du sommeil

La silence, comme d’une nuage bleue
Gentille, s’abattrait sur moi
Moi, comme un petit animal sauvage était abattu
Dans un sommeil, je plongeais, sans mouvement tout à l’heure

Encore, chuchotais, la mélodie perdu
Les nuages flottants de printemps, oisillons, fleurs, et ombres, faisaient appeler
Mais, ils ne sont pas de mon possession déjà
Ce jour-là, ma apparence qui baissait mes bras et marchait seulement aussi
Je, à la nuit, allumais la lumière, avant le sommeil
À côte de la lumière brillant, et leurs fondrais simplement
Dans la rêve, n’étais pas compétent que la rêve

Vis sur l’ombre, et quand je m’épuisait le temps
Encore le memoir, comme soupir, plus faible que la silence
Aurai fait les mots chanter

IX. Errance

C’est nuit– toutes les fenêtres, prendraient les lampes
Chemins, seuls, clairs faibles, illimités
Enduraient…… qui allais sur ils
C’était moi, seul, tout seul, sans poursuivre

La lune, se couchait déjà, ces
Comme la musique gentile, il n’y avait pas de brise
Les paysages ses ébranlaient, et effaçaient avec la rêve
Je, simplement, dans le sommeil, suivrais le sommeil plus profond et l’oubli……
Maintenant encore, si on prendrait moi en grande affection
À elle, mes mains étaient très minces, pour soutenir
Par son poids, j’ai été soif à chanceler et tomber

Oh, l’embrasement du soleil levant! Viens vite– le sommeil! Se réveilles……
Fermé par la brume de cendre, gelait moi, un jour court
Quand il arrivait, la nuit en vaguant, la rêve, je regrettais seulement!

X. L’embrasement du soleil levant

Le sommeil de la nuit dernière, sur des cadavres sales
Qui, s’asseyait?
Des ces profondes, prunelles noirs, maintenant encore
Une chose je puisais, qu’est-ce que c’est?

Tellement, dans ma chambre comme une prison
Semblable, comme un temple, étincelait, ondoyait
Où était cette musique allée?
Où était cette forme passée?
Ah, cette place là, qui restait?
Vaine, vide, étais transférée, ma jeunesse!
À toi, je ne voulais pas attendre

Cependant immobile, t’asseyait au coin de mon lit
Regardait ça, qui es-ce?
Comme on savait, et prendrait, le secret du sommeil de la nuit dernière

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Translation | “For Forget-Me-Not” Part 1 in The Hyacinth Library by Michizo Tachihara, 1937

SONATINE No. 1

To a new person

A little movement of the core, like remembrance
It rained ashes, on this village, a certain amount
Ashes like sad memory, they made a noise
On the branches of the trees, on the roofs of the houses, continued to rain

That night, the moon was clear, I and a woman
were chatting and leaning against a window (from the window you can see a mountain)
The whole room, like a gorge, with light
The burst of laughter that resounds well flooded
— Know the human heart…… What is the heart of man……
I, the woman’s hand chasing a moth, at the moth
She was trying to grasp, it was doubtful what

What day began to fill with ash smoke at the top
The story of the valcan…… and in a few nights, so to the dream
I would weave the stories of Elizabeth that I had learned them

Another night

We’ll stand still, in the fog
The fog will flow off, over the moon’s surface
Skimming like a javelin, enveloping us
Like a curtain of ash

We will part, not knowing
Without knowing, they met
Like clouds, we will be forgotten
Like a vein of water
This path is a silver path, we will go
Leaving only…… (One person from one person
Why who remembered to wait in the evening)

We never meet again, thinking of the past
The moon mirror refers to the night
We will repeat it only

To the evening of the late day

There was already the very big big place
Nobody could see
Also the sky, also the clouds, and also the floating flowers
I was not yet attracted

I would shade the light colour of twilight
And did not say it is not pleasant already
One day a bird sang and passed by
Would only explain the story and the song away
The path without signpost that I came
Coast of the way, what we will follow
We will remain planted

Our dreams will travel where
Stealthy, but painful
Also day this, and day that in wise silence?

In the morning we parted

Shake off the blue whites
Tear off the blue fruit
You, that morning was clear in the distance
The hometown I was returning to, There was somewhere in the distance

Everyone, was kind and ecstatic for me now
It was sweeter than the memory, The silence was not a little different
Monotonous, and a blur of floating clouds and wind
Stay I had sung as it was yesterday
The weak heart, throws
Like a very young seed was chewed that threw
Shake, shake

You
Various things seemed me nice and
I could not be indignant, without I bit my lips

To the last feeling

Dreams always returned, to a sad village on the mountain
The wind blew the persicaria filiformis
Larks did not stop singing
From a silent forest path in the morning

The sun shone serenely from the blue sky, the volcano was asleep
— And I
Things I had looked at, islands, waves, capes, and sunlight and moonlight
I knew no one was listening, but told……
Dreams did not come further
All the things I thought to forget
When I forgot, the things that I forgot entirely

Dreams would freeze in a memory of the middle of winter
Then they’d open a door in the stillness
And they’d set off down the road lit by stars

Summer Flower Song

Part 1

By between the sky and the pasture a cloud sprang
On the surface of a shore, the shadow drew
The bottom of the water, a fish
shimmering in the sunlight

It was the event of a summer day!
One day, the dream moment that never returns
We’ll keep silent, our feet wrapped around the wild grass
Two shadows, were shaken cunningly following course
…… Murmur of a stream
It was not change of this day also today
Whispered calmly in the wind

The smile of the girl of that day
Why, I don’t know
However, firm and cold, there were profiles only

Part 2

Those days, like a shepherd and a maiden
Began to pass joyous whole
There is no particular event
There is no new confession

Those days, like a riddle you couldn’t solve
The smile swore eternal love
Blossoms of thistle and sedge mingled
As a child, there was a good dream – that was when!
Please, once again, come back
That day when the blue sky ran
That day when those morning stars twinkled

Those days, those days, come back
I, grew tall, as if overflowing
I was sad and trembling

SONATINE No. 2

Rainbow and a Man and…

The calm wind after the rain flowed, this time
A tuft of grass was wet with dew still, a spider’s rosary shone
In the eastern sky, a light rainbow had appeared
I rose in silence, in silence!

Ah all things remained as they were, you at that moment
You looked up at me, I didn’t know what I was doing
(Yet I loved you)
(But you loved me)
Still the wind blew, still the clouds rolled
In the clear and warm blue sky, there is no change
The songs of the fledglings held, the colours of the flowers smelt

And on your eyelashes, a little rainbow remained
(But you no longer loved me
I didn’t love you any more)

Summer condolences

My times were passing away
That made my heart gold, a wound soon healed as I did not hurt myself
Between yesterday and tomorrow
The deep gulf of dark blue drew and passed

The thing that passed and threw
Was a small piece of paper that a tear stain appeared
In the white waves foamed, One evening
All things were completely erased! According to plan
Then I became a traveller, what years passed
Villages were lit by moonlight
It was warm, in the dry countryside

If I remembered! I’d come back once more
Where? to the place (I had this memory
I waited, for her, and silently gave up)

I forgot in spite of myself

Hard autumn had arrived (including spring)
The lake was bright with sun and shining
Birds flew across the great big sky
And went on the side of a mountain to a gorge

Grapes and figs were ripening opulently
The grain harvest had already begun
One or two clouds flowed
Lying on the grass and watching
Only I was left alone
My eyes were too bright to see the decay
But these eyes were small that could not time feast!

The state remained, the mild winter circulated
In a day the wind scattered leaves– I too grew
From, a peaceful sense that a silent music matched

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