Poem
Jūkichi Yagi
Steeped in Utter Desolation
***Stillness
at dawn.
Stillness
in the evening.
Though I have angry days
how glad I was
on that day without anger.
***
In broad daylight in autumn
what is this grumbling?
What peasant is it?
Were the leeks
stolen from your field last night?
I’m lying on a bank.
It’s a fine dry day.
***
A stark white road
stretches on.
It’s an autumn day
like an opening split into
a warm and new night.
***
A marsh.
As I peer into
the cold marsh
algae
are gently undulating,
like breath that once was.
***
If I really feel
the sensation of happiness
it should be most obvious
when I am walking along a road,
especially when
it suddenly turns into
a quiet narrow lane.
***
If just now
I hunted around for love,
then my poetry would flare up brilliantly,
yet
its soul would die.
© Translation: 2008, William I. Elliott and Kazuo Kawamura
STEEPED IN UTTER DESOLATION
© 1924, Jūkichi Yagi
From: from unpublished manuscripts
Written during November 15-23, 1924
From: from unpublished manuscripts
Poems
Poems of Jūkichi Yagi
Close
Steeped in Utter Desolation
***Stillness
at dawn.
Stillness
in the evening.
Though I have angry days
how glad I was
on that day without anger.
***
In broad daylight in autumn
what is this grumbling?
What peasant is it?
Were the leeks
stolen from your field last night?
I’m lying on a bank.
It’s a fine dry day.
***
A stark white road
stretches on.
It’s an autumn day
like an opening split into
a warm and new night.
***
A marsh.
As I peer into
the cold marsh
algae
are gently undulating,
like breath that once was.
***
If I really feel
the sensation of happiness
it should be most obvious
when I am walking along a road,
especially when
it suddenly turns into
a quiet narrow lane.
***
If just now
I hunted around for love,
then my poetry would flare up brilliantly,
yet
its soul would die.
© 2008, William I. Elliott and Kazuo Kawamura
From: from unpublished manuscripts
Written during November 15-23, 1924
From: from unpublished manuscripts
Steeped in Utter Desolation
***Stillness
at dawn.
Stillness
in the evening.
Though I have angry days
how glad I was
on that day without anger.
***
In broad daylight in autumn
what is this grumbling?
What peasant is it?
Were the leeks
stolen from your field last night?
I’m lying on a bank.
It’s a fine dry day.
***
A stark white road
stretches on.
It’s an autumn day
like an opening split into
a warm and new night.
***
A marsh.
As I peer into
the cold marsh
algae
are gently undulating,
like breath that once was.
***
If I really feel
the sensation of happiness
it should be most obvious
when I am walking along a road,
especially when
it suddenly turns into
a quiet narrow lane.
***
If just now
I hunted around for love,
then my poetry would flare up brilliantly,
yet
its soul would die.
© 2008, William I. Elliott and Kazuo Kawamura
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