Discover Japan's stories—across time, across language.

| Original Title | 罌粟の中 |
|---|---|
| Author | 横光 利一 |
| Genre | Modern Short Fiction |
| Author Type | Male Author |
| Summary | A Japanese traveler journeys through Hungary’s sunlit plains, where crimson poppies bleed into the horizon and the Danube ripples like a song. Kaji, adrift in unfamiliarity, finds solace in Budapest’s grandeur—a hotel room overlooking the river, streets alive with violins—and in Johan, an erudite guide whose cryptic charm masks hidden depths. Through moonlit gardens and raucous dance halls, Kaji navigates fleeting connections: a Gypsy ensemble’s wild melodies, a tongueless lion’s silent satire, dancers whose beauty flickers between shyness and defiance. Johan orchestrates each encounter like a conductor, weaving tales of migratory musicians and Hungarian legends, yet his own past lingers unspoken. As poppies blur into memory, Kaji grapples with the ache of transience—the thrill of being called “beautiful” by a stranger, the melancholy of bonds formed and dissolved under foreign skies. Beneath the surface of gilded ballrooms and whispered histories simmers a quiet unease: What secrets does this land cradle? And what of Johan, whose laughter echoes both warmth and enigma? A tapestry of sensory wonder and existential longing, where every encounter hums with the bittersweet cadence of a half-remembered childhood tune. |