Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Kiyoko Nagase

To Fit My Feet

No shoes fit my feet.
Shoes that would snugly fit me
may be hanging among the stars.
First of all I dislike shoes.
Isn’t it simply crude to make things shaped like feet
and put your feet in them?
That’s also slavish.
I prefer something more airy and winged.
I would choose something more moist and amicable
Can’t people think that way at all?
Once all women, as a matter of course, wore big bulging hair-dos
There were times they would be too embarrassed to be seen
unless they wore dresses that touched the floor.

At night, I look for shoes in the starry smoothness
I fail to find a shoe-shaped constellation
then my billowing skirt touches the dawn in the East.
But once the day breaks I am standing on the grass.
My soles are more beautiful than most shoes.
Besides my soles are always hungry
they always bleed on gravel.

私の足に

私の足に

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To Fit My Feet

No shoes fit my feet.
Shoes that would snugly fit me
may be hanging among the stars.
First of all I dislike shoes.
Isn’t it simply crude to make things shaped like feet
and put your feet in them?
That’s also slavish.
I prefer something more airy and winged.
I would choose something more moist and amicable
Can’t people think that way at all?
Once all women, as a matter of course, wore big bulging hair-dos
There were times they would be too embarrassed to be seen
unless they wore dresses that touched the floor.

At night, I look for shoes in the starry smoothness
I fail to find a shoe-shaped constellation
then my billowing skirt touches the dawn in the East.
But once the day breaks I am standing on the grass.
My soles are more beautiful than most shoes.
Besides my soles are always hungry
they always bleed on gravel.

To Fit My Feet

No shoes fit my feet.
Shoes that would snugly fit me
may be hanging among the stars.
First of all I dislike shoes.
Isn’t it simply crude to make things shaped like feet
and put your feet in them?
That’s also slavish.
I prefer something more airy and winged.
I would choose something more moist and amicable
Can’t people think that way at all?
Once all women, as a matter of course, wore big bulging hair-dos
There were times they would be too embarrassed to be seen
unless they wore dresses that touched the floor.

At night, I look for shoes in the starry smoothness
I fail to find a shoe-shaped constellation
then my billowing skirt touches the dawn in the East.
But once the day breaks I am standing on the grass.
My soles are more beautiful than most shoes.
Besides my soles are always hungry
they always bleed on gravel.
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