Poetry International Poetry International
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.

STEEPED IN UTTER DESOLATION

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.

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.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère