I am officially moving all drabbles and poems to a new site… I will still post lyric translations here!

Scattered Frequency | poetry

https://moridaydream.wordpress.com/

Asian Kung Fu Generation

Solanin

思い違いは空のかなた
さよならだけの人生か
ほんの少しの未来は見えたのに
さよならなんだ

A misunderstanding, as deep and far as the sky

Life, is it all just farewells?

Even though I caught it, just a little glimpse of the future

It was goodbye.

昔　住んでた小さな部屋は
今は他人が住んでんだ
君に言われた　ひどい言葉も
無駄な気がした毎日も

The tiny room I stayed in, long ago

Now, someone else lives there

Even the cruel words you told me

Even all the days I felt were for nothing

あの時こうしていれば　あの日に戻れれば
あの頃の僕にはもう　戻れないよ

If I had done it like this, then; if I could just return to that day

But there’s no going back to who I once was

たとえばゆるい幸せがだらっと続いたとする
きっと悪い種が芽を出して
もう　さよならなんだ

Even if that weak happiness had dragged on for a little longer

A bad seed would have sprouted eventually

It’s already goodbye

寒い冬の冷えた缶コーヒーと
虹色の長いマフラーと
小走りで路地裏を抜けて
思い出してみる

A can of coffee chilled by the cold winter and

A long, rainbow-colored muffler and

The back alley I passed through at a small run

If I try to remember them

たとえばゆるい幸せがだらっと続いたとする
きっと悪い種が芽を出して
もう　さよならなんだ

Even if that weak happiness had dragged on for a little longer

A bad seed would have sprouted eventually

It’s already goodbye

さよなら　それもいいさ
どこかで元気でやれよ
僕もどーにかやるさ

さよなら

そうするよ

Goodbye – see, it’s fine

You can get by anywhere, it doesn’t matter

Me too, I’ll figure something out

Goodbye

That’s what I’m going to do

Plastic Tree

夢の島

Island of Dreams

悪魔が来たよ 唄いながら
「望んでた世界はどう?」って 問いかけてくる
救いの手も もうどうやら つかめそうにない

The devil came to me, singing as he did

“So how’s the world you wished for?”; he came to ask me

There’s just no helping hand I can hold out to anymore
僕の特技は独りぼっち
「居場所なんかなかった。」って答えてみた
とても綺麗な日 希望も灰になりそうな

I’m exceptional at being alone

“There wasn’t any place for me to belong,” I tried answering him

Such a beautiful day, but looks like even my hopes might burn to ash
夢から覚めるための呪文が 思いだせないのは 何故だろう?

I wonder why I can’t remember it, the spell to wake me up from this dream?
目にうかんだ愁しみを捨てに 何処に行こう?
キラキラした夢の島 何処にあるの?
燃えて消えないゴミ達と 朽ちていきたいよ
キラキラした夢の島 一緒に行こう

The sadness caught in my eyes, where should I go to throw it away?

Where is it, that glittering island of dreams?

I want to rot away with all the trash that can’t be burned

A glittering island of dreams, let’s go together

目にうかんだ愁しみを捨てに 何処に行こう?
キラキラした夢の島 何処にあるの?
燃えて消えないゴミ達と 朽ちていきたいよ
キラキラした夢の島 一緒に行こう

The sadness caught in my eyes, where should I go to throw it away?

Where is it, that glittering island of dreams?

I want to rot away with all the trash that can’t be burned

A glittering island of dreams, let’s go together

clammbon

folklore

強い台風の　去ってった夜に　

The night the big typhoon passed

高いビルの上から　街を眺めてた

I gazed down at the city from a tall building

風はまだすこし　移り気で　

The wind was still a little erratic

去り際のタイミングを　つかみ損ねてる

A wreck, clinging on to the time of its departure

隣の住宅のネオンが　陽炎のように　揺らいでた

The neon lights of the place next door trembled, like heat inside a haze

こんな景色　見たことない　見慣れていたのに

A place I’ve never seen, though I’m so used to seeing it

何かが変わってゆくような　　

Something is going to change

そんな気がした

I just had that feeling

あと少しで

Just a little bit longer

何事もなく消えてゆく　

It’ll disappear without a sound

６月６号　

June, train cart number six

あと少しで　あと少しで

Just a little bit longer; just a little bit more

最終電車の低いアナウンスが　

The deep timbre of the last train’s announcement

いつもよりも　透き通って聞こえてる

Sounds more clear to me than it ever has

このままでは　またいつものように　

Just like this, just like always

ずっと空を　ぼんやり眺めるだけ

I’m still staring blankly up at the sky

すこし瞼　重くなって　ゆっくりと目を閉じてみる

My eyelids have become a little heavy, when I try closing them slowly

遠くで君の声がした　そろそろ行かなきゃ

Your voice came, from far away; it’s about time for me to leave

気圧の谷を飛び越えた

I somehow leapt over a deep valley of air pressure　

そんな気がした　

That’s how I felt

あと少しで

Just a little bit longer

気持ちがすっと軽くなる　

Like suddenly breathing out, getting lighter

そんな気分さ　

You know, that sort of feeling

あと少しで　あと少しで

Just a little bit longer; just a little bit more

何かが変わってゆくような　　

Something is going to change

そんな気がした

I just had that feeling

あと少しで

Just a little bit longer

何事もなく消えてゆく　

It’ll disappear without a sound

６月６号　

June, train cart number six

あと少しで　あと少しで

Just a little bit longer; just a little bit more

時計の針が２時を指す　

My watch hand points to two

気がつけば　もう　

And by the time I notice, it’s already

あと少しで

Just a little bit longer

気持ちがすっと軽くなる　

Like suddenly breathing out, getting lighter

そんな気分さ　

You know, that sort of feeling

あと少しで　あと少しで

Just a little bit longer; just a little bit more

強い台風の　去ってった夜に　

The night the big typhoon passed

高いビルの上から　街を眺めてた

I gazed down at the city from a tall building

僕はまだすこし　移り気で　

I was still a little erratic

去り際のタイミングを　つかみ損ねてる

A wreck, clinging to the time of my departure

It’s a tricky thing, losing your voice. Your voice and your inner monologue are not the same thing. Your voice and your affirming the opinions of others is not the same thing. Your voice and your insisting of “I’m fine, I’m fine,” are not the same thing.

Inability to stand up becomes an inability to speak, inability to speak becomes an inability to write these things, except for maybe when you are completely alone, heart and mind devoid of the echoes of criticism and self-perceived failure, and even then, that voice reflected in tiny scritch-scratch font and familiar, comfortable sketching is kept hidden and hoarded away, until you forget where to find it. Then you’ve completely lost it.

What does come out are parroted phrases from those around you, hollow and meek. Crying. To the most trusted friends, circles of despair and fear that spin round and round like a top. You lose that and the top falls and then you’re not only voiceless, but numb. Numb, numb, numb.

There are a few who kept your real voice remembered for you. You speak to them and you remember how and what and why… it’s almost as if that mute, pathetic, numb you was all just a dream, a mistake. And then they leave for awhile, and you’re on the opposite end of that assumption. It takes mere seconds. You can’t tell them how many feet, how many miles your heart drops down when you feel your voice die in the middle of the conversation.

If asked questions, then, about where it went, about how you’re feeling; if proposed answers, then, by the ones you love, ‘angry’, ‘sad’, ‘frustrated’, it all feels like a game of hot and cold in which there is no warm, no warmer, just cold, cold, colder, coldest. You feel as though you’ve thrown the loved one, the kind participator, on a wild goose chase in the dark. Maybe you just want them to be in the dark for you, just for a little while.

Carelessly, in the name of some sentiment or worst, the happiest you’ve ever felt, maybe you put all your hope, all the little pocket flashlights of lightheartedness, all the songs you know by heart, all the truths you can’t forget, into someone; maybe you gave it all away without having realized that, and you realize not only are they not listening for your voice, they have no intention of searching for you. Whether they’re wrapped up in their own darkness or dread it the same way a child does, balk from it and you, you’ll never know.

You wait. You wait. You sleep. You listen. You dread. You wait. You wait.

If you can, you laugh. Maybe that’s what breaks the silence. Or you cry. Not the kind from before, the strong kind. The kind someone by your side is smiling at and doesn’t rush you through.

And then the next time the doubt sets in, the shame, the instinct to cloister your opinions and what you truly want in a soundproof chamber, you find yourself yelling out, “NO,” in the exact same tone a petulant toddler might. But it’s stronger than all your erudite angst, and gives you relief. You throw in a few swear words too, just because you can, and laugh.

It’s back, and you’re back, even if it’s just a little ‘no’ screaming you; even if it’s just a little angry you. Even if it’s just a little childish you.

That’s something you can raise. That’s something you can work with. Something that can laugh and sing and smile.

That’s something warm, warm, warmer.

 

As a child, the notion of, “Life is precious and not something to waste!” somehow translated into a mandate of, “Guard your time, guard it, guard it, watch it, control it!” And I was often satisfied, but often lonely.

Getting older, moving out on my own, and being humbled at the realization of just how much I, as a human-being, needed other human-beings, that mandate was overturned and I often told myself, “Who are you missing out being with? Who are you missing?” When I tried to set out to do things, the solitude that had once been as comfortable as one’s favorite winter jacket, no longer fit and I ran from it every chance I got.

Today somehow became a day about death… not just with the sad news I received about a student’s passing in America, but down to the movie I watched and those I ate dinner with. And so it also was a day about life; you know what I mean. You hear beautiful songs and have aphorisms that dwell in the back of your mind or in your heart as well.

But no matter how many you have memorized or how many you recite to yourself in the face of a loss, they can’t shield you from experiencing it. You can run from it – the same way you can run from satisfaction or loneliness. You can fill a whole life running from things, I suppose. But if you meet it, you cannot deflect it.

I had a keen fear of death around this time, two years ago. It persisted for many months. Sometimes I could not sleep. Sometimes it made me feel sick. It was never far from my thoughts, no matter what kind of day it was.

I would cry over it and agonize over it and wonder, Why? Why at twenty three? But I knew why, and that was because as a child, as a young adult, I’d never stopped to wrap my head around it, to really accept it, or even acknowledge that it was there.

This year, the fear went somewhere. At first, I didn’t know where. Sometimes, I would recall it suddenly, like a phone call you’re supposed to make, and brace myself for all the doubt and uncertainty that came with calling it by its name and looking it in its eyes, Death… and there would be nothing. No sense of dread. No endless barrage of questions.

Have I become simple? Am I in denial? Am I that good at running now?

But no, that’s not it. It’s none of the above. Today, I realized it – ah, I have been looking at Death. Every single day. In the sparkling eyes of children. In the jokes I share with friends. In the stories I read in books. They are Death. And the flowers I trample upon, the fish I gut, the papers I throw in the trash, they are Life.

Coming to this conclusion, I had thought my days would darken or lose something, a spark, a light, something, but it’s the opposite. I thought I had to win some sort of victory over death while alive, in order to live my life to the fullest, but…

I’m twenty four; Life is here, but Death is here too. They have always been… they always will be. I don’t have any pretty words for it… I haven’t the mind for making any at this moment, but I do have today, with the sunflowers simultaneously blooming and wilting on my porch, tonight, with the people I can see this moment and news of the people I will never be able to see again, and tomorrow… and when, someday, I don’t have tomorrow, someone else will. And that is why, really, I will always have it too.

And with this, I am satisfied, and not at all lonely.

I heard this old song on TV today… her voice is so beautiful. Translation done by me.

Nakajima Miyuki

わかれうた
Farewell Song

道に倒れて誰かの名を
呼び続けたことがありますか
人ごとに言うほどたそがれは
やさしい人好しじゃありません

Have you ever fallen down on the road
And continued to call out someone’s name?
I am not the sort of kind soul that can give
Even one word in the twilight.

別れの気分に味をしめて
あなたは私の戸をたたいた
私は別れを忘れたくて
あなたの目を見ずに戸を開けた

I taste blood in the feeling of our farewell
You pounded upon my door
I want to forget about farewell
Without meeting your eyes, I opened the door

別れはいつもついて来る
幸せの後ろをついて来る
それが私のくせなのか
いつも目覚めれば一人

Farewell is always following behind
Always trailing behind happiness
I wonder if that’s my way
When I wake I am always alone

あなたは憂いを身につけて
浮かれ街あたりで名を上げる
眠れない私はつれづれに
わかれうた今夜も口ずさむ

You wear anxiety on you
At a merry spot in town, give your name
Unable to sleep, I leisurely
Croon the farewell song tonight as well

誰が名付けたか私には
わかれうた唄いの陰がある
好きでわかれうた唄うはずもない
ほかに知らないから口ずさむ

Who named it? To me
There is a shadow to singing the farewell song
It’s not as though I take pleasure to sing farewell
Because I know no other song, I croon

恋の終わりはいつもいつも
立ち去るものだけが美しい
残されてとまどうものたちは
追いかけてこがれて泣きくるむ

At the end of love, always, always
Only what remains standing in the past is beautiful
Those left lost and in a standstill
Give chase, give longing, muffled by tears

別れはいつもついて来る
幸せの後ろをついて来る
それが私のくせなのか
いつも目覚めれば一人

Farewell is always following behind
Always trailing behind happiness
I wonder if that’s my way
When I wake I am always alone

あなたは憂いを身につけて
浮かれ街あたりで名を上げる
眠れない私はつれづれに
わかれうた今夜も口ずさむ

You wear anxiety on you
At a merry spot in town, give your name
Unable to sleep, I leisurely
Croon the farewell song tonight as well

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86_8ShpMut4

Spitz

夢追い虫
The Bug That Chases Dreams

笑ったり 泣いたり あたり前の生活を
二人で過ごせば 羽も生える 最高だね!

Laughing, crying, all life’s obvious little scenes
If the two of us spend them together, wings sprout, nothing could be better!

美人じゃない 魔法もない バカな君が好きさ
途中から 変わっても すべて許してやろう

You’re no great beauty and there’s no magic, but I like silly you for you
Even if you were to change at the midpoint, I’ll forgive you for everything

ユメで見たあの場所に立つ日まで
僕らは少しずつ進む あくまでも

Until we’re standing at the place we’ve seen in dreams
We’ll progress, bit by bit, until the very end

吐きそうなくらい 落ちそうなくらい エロに迷い込んでゆく
おかしな ユメですが リアルなのだ 本気でしょ?

To the point of nausea, to the point of collapse, we go on lost in eroticism
It’s a weird dream, but, it’s real – we’re serious, right?

ユメで見たあの場所に立つ日まで
僕らは少しずつ進む あくまでも

Until we’re standing at the place we’ve seen in dreams
We’ll progress, bit by bit, until the very end

命短き ちっぽけな虫です
うれしくて 悲しくて 君と踊る

I am a short-lived, tiny insect
Happily, sadly, I dance with you

上見るな 下見るな 誰もがそう言うけれど
憧れ 裏切られ 傷つかない方法も
身につけ 乗り越え どこへ行こうか?

Don’t look up, don’t look down, that’s what everybody says, but
If I acquire a way to adore, to sell out, and to not get hurt in the process
If I overcome all that, where will I go?

ユメで見たあの場所に立つ日まで
僕らは少しずつ進む あくまでも
ユメで見たあの場所に立つ日まで
削れて減りながら進む あくまでも
あくまでも

Until we’re standing at the place we’ve seen in dreams
We’ll progress, bit by bit, until the very end
Until we’re standing at the place we’ve seen in dreams
As it sharpens and diminishes, we’ll continue, until the very end
Until the very end

I’ll be trying to post an original translation of a song here every week from now on… this is one I heard at my school’s send-off assembly for the graduating third-years this year. Haha, I cried throughout the whole thing… and I realize now that I did the same thing over the same song last year, at Takatsu.

The song takes place on the speaker’s graduation day, which always takes place in March here.

三月九日 (March 9th)

流れる季節の真ん中で
ふと日の長さを感じます
せわしく過ぎる日々の中に
私とあなたで夢を描く

Amidst the flowing seasons
I suddenly felt the span of one day
Inside them, as they rush on and pass
You and I are sketching out our dreams

3月の風に想いをのせて
桜のつぼみは春へとつづきます

The March wind carries a memory with it
The sakura blossom on towards spring

溢れ出す光の粒が
少しずつ朝を暖めます
大きなあくびをした後に
少し照れてるあなたの横で

Grains of light overflow
And warm up the morning, little by little
I gave a big yawn and afterwards
A bit flustered, stand by your side

新たな世界の入口に立ち
気づいたことは 1人じゃないってこと

Standing at the entrance to the new world
What I realized then was that I am not alone

瞳を閉じれば あなたが
まぶたのうらに いることで
どれほど強くなれたでしょう
あなたにとって私も そうでありたい

If I close my eyes
You are always right there
And so I wonder just how strong that feeling has become
I hope that it’s the same, that I’m right there for you

砂ぼこり運ぶ つむじ風
洗濯物に絡まりますが
昼前の空の白い月は
なんだかきれいで 見とれました

A twisting wind carries in dust
And tangles up the laundry
The white moon in the early noon sky
Was kind of beautiful and I forgot myself in it

上手くはいかぬこともあるけれど
天を仰げば それさえ小さくて

There are things that don’t work out, but
If I gaze up at the sky, even they become small

青い空は凛と澄んで
羊雲は静かに揺れる
花咲くを待つ喜びを
分かち合えるのであれば それは幸せ

The blue sky is cold and clear
Flocks of clouds roll on silently
The joy of waiting for the flowers to bloom
If it’s something we can share together, that is happiness

この先も 隣で そっと微笑んで
Still, from here on out, softly smiling by my side

瞳を閉じれば あなたが
まぶたのうらに いることで
どれほど強くなれたでしょう
あなたにとって私も そうでありたい

If I close my eyes
You are always right there
And so I wonder just how strong that feeling has become
I hope that it’s the same, that I’m right there for you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7aXuVPJebM

This is a choir version… the original is a rock ballad by the band Remiorem.

Tonight while power-walking, I ran into some friends of mine – one that I hadn’t seen in a month, one that I hadn’t seen in a few months, one that I hadn’t seen in a year, and one that I see everyday.

With the first three, I exploded and jumped up and down (…cautiously, in the case of the one who is pregnant, if one can jump up and down cautiously?), and with the last, I laughed and said, “Well, speak of the devil.” But even with that discrepancy in excitement or time spent since having last seen each one of them, after the exclamations, something takes place. I think anyone has experienced this.

You look into that person’s eyes and it just sort of clicks, somewhere in your head and in your heart. The shape of these eyes or the crookedness of this smile or, treasured above all for me at least, the unique peal of that person’s real laugh. That all comes into focus and you just think, ‘It’s my person. The one I know.’

When we’re together everyday, we don’t notice it. Because it’s a given. But I never want to take it for granted. If I don’t take it for granted now, then when and if we’re separated someday, I won’t have a heart that lacks you, but a heart that has been contentedly, but brightly, waiting for the day we’ll meet again.

I think that’s why we don’t really feel as if any time has passed or as if anything important has been missed, with the people we know. Because if we knew them then, and treasured them then, then nothing has changed when we cross paths again.

As a human being, my mind will never let it be as simple as this, but… I think what family and friendship and relationships and these things that really matter in life are all about are just that – when you run into someone, whether that’s by chance or because you’re visiting or because they happen to be who you’re married to (in which case, I’m not sure why you’re running into them, maybe you live in a twelve-story mansion), when you meet them in the eye and there’s that rush of… just knowing.

In life, there might be nothing more simply done and yet nothing more wonderful than that feeling.

One of my favorite books of all time is The Little Prince… and this excerpt means the most to me. I often think of it, whether at times like right now, when I’m brimming with happiness over a reunion or at times when I’m lonely and a little doubtful of things.

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near–

“Ah,” said the fox, “I shall cry.”

“It is your own fault,” said the little prince. “I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . .”

“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.

“But now you are going to cry!” said the little prince.

“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.

“Then it has done you no good at all!”

“It has done me good,” said the fox, “because of the color of the wheat fields.” And then he added:

“Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret.” 

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.

“You are not at all like my rose,” he said. “As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world.”

And the roses were very much embarassed.

“You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you–the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose. 

And he went back to meet the fox.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” said the fox. “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

“What is essential is invisible to the eye,” the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”

“It is the time I have wasted for my rose–” said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

“Men have forgotten this truth,” said the fox. “But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose . . .”

“I am responsible for my rose,” the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.