Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Takako Arai

Half a Pair of Shoes

the red poppy is in bloom
a leather shoe, just half a pair,
lies washed up on the seashore
laces still tied

as the poppy bends
and drops dew from its petals
the shoe sighs faintly
the flower shakes itself off
and the dirty shoe
starts to open
its eye

mostly likely
no landscapes are reflected
in that eye, deep as an old well,
memories
soak through
the poppy can only caress
she extends her leaves
toward the chest-like instep

     —You cannot break me, the waves
     cannot wash away
     my worn-down heel
     and my folds

   they draw near
  the gaze of the shoeless boy
 going as far as the water’s edge
if the poppy gazed in
how clear that eye would be
a fire, like a small fish’s fin
at the bottom of an old well

     —The sea cannot extinguish
     the frank, pale flame
     at the depths of my existence
     for the sea too is an enormous eye

    what light must the wave have emitted
   in that moment
  as it watered and rushed
 surging in anger
far from shore
as the other shoe was swallowed

     —Did the school of sardines
     see the circle
     of blue flame
     drawn in my eyes?

the poppy is trembling again
no
it is the wind
the flower stands naked
dropping its petals
into the well

it is an umbilical cord
the tip of the shoelace
falling into the depths of the eye
where the boy tries to grab on

down it crawls

片方の靴

片方の靴

紅いひなげしが咲いていました
浜辺に、
片方だけ、皮靴が打ち上げられておりました
縛ったままの靴ひもでした

花びらのあさつゆを
ひなげしが 身をしならして垂らしたら
息づきます、かすかに、
精いっぱい振りこぼしたら
あけようとする、
目ぶたを
泥靴が、

古井戸のように深い目に、
おそらく
景色は映っていない
記憶さえ
ぐっしょり濡れて、
ひなげしは さすってみるほかありません
葉を伸ばし
胸のような靴の甲を、

  ―――砕くことはできないよ、波も
     流せない
     すりへった踵と
     皺が、

   たぐり寄せるのです、
  はぐれたひとの眼ざしを
 浜辺まで、
ひなげしが覗きこめば
いっそう透きとおり、
井戸の底に
小魚の背びれのような、火が、

  ―――消せないさ
     存在のおくの、正直なほそい光は
     海もまた、
     巨(おお)きな瞳だから、

    あのとき、
   うるんで疾走しながら、
  怒濤しながら
 どんな光を放ったか
沖へ、
飲まれていく、もう片方は

  ―――かこうとする、ひと輪の
     蒼い火を、
     見たでしょうか
     いわしの群れの目が、
     
また揺れてるね
いいえ、
風だよ
裸のひなげしが立っていました
花びらを、
井戸に降らして

へその緒なのです
靴ひもの
その先は、
つかもうとする瞳の底まで

這って、
Close

Half a Pair of Shoes

the red poppy is in bloom
a leather shoe, just half a pair,
lies washed up on the seashore
laces still tied

as the poppy bends
and drops dew from its petals
the shoe sighs faintly
the flower shakes itself off
and the dirty shoe
starts to open
its eye

mostly likely
no landscapes are reflected
in that eye, deep as an old well,
memories
soak through
the poppy can only caress
she extends her leaves
toward the chest-like instep

     —You cannot break me, the waves
     cannot wash away
     my worn-down heel
     and my folds

   they draw near
  the gaze of the shoeless boy
 going as far as the water’s edge
if the poppy gazed in
how clear that eye would be
a fire, like a small fish’s fin
at the bottom of an old well

     —The sea cannot extinguish
     the frank, pale flame
     at the depths of my existence
     for the sea too is an enormous eye

    what light must the wave have emitted
   in that moment
  as it watered and rushed
 surging in anger
far from shore
as the other shoe was swallowed

     —Did the school of sardines
     see the circle
     of blue flame
     drawn in my eyes?

the poppy is trembling again
no
it is the wind
the flower stands naked
dropping its petals
into the well

it is an umbilical cord
the tip of the shoelace
falling into the depths of the eye
where the boy tries to grab on

down it crawls

Half a Pair of Shoes

the red poppy is in bloom
a leather shoe, just half a pair,
lies washed up on the seashore
laces still tied

as the poppy bends
and drops dew from its petals
the shoe sighs faintly
the flower shakes itself off
and the dirty shoe
starts to open
its eye

mostly likely
no landscapes are reflected
in that eye, deep as an old well,
memories
soak through
the poppy can only caress
she extends her leaves
toward the chest-like instep

     —You cannot break me, the waves
     cannot wash away
     my worn-down heel
     and my folds

   they draw near
  the gaze of the shoeless boy
 going as far as the water’s edge
if the poppy gazed in
how clear that eye would be
a fire, like a small fish’s fin
at the bottom of an old well

     —The sea cannot extinguish
     the frank, pale flame
     at the depths of my existence
     for the sea too is an enormous eye

    what light must the wave have emitted
   in that moment
  as it watered and rushed
 surging in anger
far from shore
as the other shoe was swallowed

     —Did the school of sardines
     see the circle
     of blue flame
     drawn in my eyes?

the poppy is trembling again
no
it is the wind
the flower stands naked
dropping its petals
into the well

it is an umbilical cord
the tip of the shoelace
falling into the depths of the eye
where the boy tries to grab on

down it crawls
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
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