Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Kiyoko Nagase

Song of a Woman

With no friends of your own
you are looking only at me
and you accuse me.
You accuse me of being inconsiderate
No, not enough
No, not enough
not enough proof of loving you
how insolent of me not to look happy all the time
how impudent of me not to be able to forecast today’s weather for you
you always tell me to do things I can’t

I want to start learning magic.
I want to stop your criticism with a single glance.
I want to put your heart to sleep with one finger.
I want to go out every night riding a broom.
I want to jump over the mountain ridge
trailing my hair like smoke.
I want to fly into the sparkling moonlight
laughing away your beratings down there.

You, so simple,
give no thought to the pain that is almost killing me.
Yet, you will calmly go to heaven by and by.
And I, having wished for witchcraft, will fall to hell
Ah, that will create ten billion years of separation.

女のうたえる

女のうたえる

Close

Song of a Woman

With no friends of your own
you are looking only at me
and you accuse me.
You accuse me of being inconsiderate
No, not enough
No, not enough
not enough proof of loving you
how insolent of me not to look happy all the time
how impudent of me not to be able to forecast today’s weather for you
you always tell me to do things I can’t

I want to start learning magic.
I want to stop your criticism with a single glance.
I want to put your heart to sleep with one finger.
I want to go out every night riding a broom.
I want to jump over the mountain ridge
trailing my hair like smoke.
I want to fly into the sparkling moonlight
laughing away your beratings down there.

You, so simple,
give no thought to the pain that is almost killing me.
Yet, you will calmly go to heaven by and by.
And I, having wished for witchcraft, will fall to hell
Ah, that will create ten billion years of separation.

Song of a Woman

With no friends of your own
you are looking only at me
and you accuse me.
You accuse me of being inconsiderate
No, not enough
No, not enough
not enough proof of loving you
how insolent of me not to look happy all the time
how impudent of me not to be able to forecast today’s weather for you
you always tell me to do things I can’t

I want to start learning magic.
I want to stop your criticism with a single glance.
I want to put your heart to sleep with one finger.
I want to go out every night riding a broom.
I want to jump over the mountain ridge
trailing my hair like smoke.
I want to fly into the sparkling moonlight
laughing away your beratings down there.

You, so simple,
give no thought to the pain that is almost killing me.
Yet, you will calmly go to heaven by and by.
And I, having wished for witchcraft, will fall to hell
Ah, that will create ten billion years of separation.
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