Poem
Yosuke Tanaka
Lemon,
Winter, day.Unable to withstand the sweetness that wells up within
When I think of a certain someone,
The sunlight is faint. Getting, tired out
That’s right. An umbrella stolen,
I say that name.
Fun, just for fun. If someone heard me I’d feel ashamed but still . . .
A newspaper filled with good news,
A boring show about traditional Japanese music. My personality
Breaking down even further, the oil on the hot plate
Splatters all over.
Green pepper. And eggplant
Slowly burning as they turn as if trying to twist their bodies.
Those games are over now. Over.
Even so, I still cannot withstand the sweetness
That wells up suddenly in my heart.
Lemon,
I wander on a diagonal through the cold wind
On a day, faintly winter.
© Translation: 2008, Jeffrey Angles
LEMON,
© 2008, Yosuke Tanaka
From: Sweet na gunjyo no yume (Sweet Ultramarine Dreams)
Publisher: Michitani, Tokyo
From: Sweet na gunjyo no yume (Sweet Ultramarine Dreams)
Publisher: Michitani, Tokyo
Poems
Poems of Yosuke Tanaka
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Lemon,
Winter, day.Unable to withstand the sweetness that wells up within
When I think of a certain someone,
The sunlight is faint. Getting, tired out
That’s right. An umbrella stolen,
I say that name.
Fun, just for fun. If someone heard me I’d feel ashamed but still . . .
A newspaper filled with good news,
A boring show about traditional Japanese music. My personality
Breaking down even further, the oil on the hot plate
Splatters all over.
Green pepper. And eggplant
Slowly burning as they turn as if trying to twist their bodies.
Those games are over now. Over.
Even so, I still cannot withstand the sweetness
That wells up suddenly in my heart.
Lemon,
I wander on a diagonal through the cold wind
On a day, faintly winter.
© 2008, Jeffrey Angles
From: Sweet na gunjyo no yume (Sweet Ultramarine Dreams)
From: Sweet na gunjyo no yume (Sweet Ultramarine Dreams)
Lemon,
Winter, day.Unable to withstand the sweetness that wells up within
When I think of a certain someone,
The sunlight is faint. Getting, tired out
That’s right. An umbrella stolen,
I say that name.
Fun, just for fun. If someone heard me I’d feel ashamed but still . . .
A newspaper filled with good news,
A boring show about traditional Japanese music. My personality
Breaking down even further, the oil on the hot plate
Splatters all over.
Green pepper. And eggplant
Slowly burning as they turn as if trying to twist their bodies.
Those games are over now. Over.
Even so, I still cannot withstand the sweetness
That wells up suddenly in my heart.
Lemon,
I wander on a diagonal through the cold wind
On a day, faintly winter.
© 2008, Jeffrey Angles
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