Pathway to Japanese Literature

744 Hospital

1926, November 4,

The air along the way was cold bright water.

With fever, they became as lively as fish,

And were remarkably fresh.

The final cactus blazed dazzlingly.

The city and bridge shone with crystalline clarity.

All people I met had emigrated to Iceland.

They wore robes of wind called bee-sparrows.

Such precise contours—not even in microscopic analysis' crystal forms—

I thought they likely did not exist.

745 [The field’s sand brims with frost and sacred purity]

1926, November 15,

The field's sand brimmed with frost and sacred purity.
Shadows cast shadows.
An entasis ice pillar.
And beyond lay smooth water.
The many nights and days during my illness—
How it had shone so brightly while flowing on like that.

Sandy soil and rain of light

But since I arrived at this field,
I have not heard a single sound.

1001 Train

1927, February 12,

The platform was dazzlingly cold.

The green glass shade of the electric lamp,

A glittering procession of dancing ice crystals.

People grow old in their pettiness,

As the train approaches,

Its windows may be adorned with Ice-fern.

Inside the car were tiny suspended particles

And that beautiful Tyndall phenomenon.

The sunlight was now winter-quiet.

Telegraph poles, buildings, pigeons,

Glittering ice trees standing,

A deep blue haze-shrouded mountain and clouds,

Disheveled hair,

Black necktie fastened,

The photographer slept in the morning train.

“……Is this that town which produces small, fine pears……”

“…Yes, Your Excellency. Today we are producing a great quantity of ice crystals…”

“……Are all those groves of trees the parent trees of fine pears……”

“…Yes, Your Excellency. In summer they hang nickel-steel mirrors there…”

“…A grove of alder trees…”

“……How fare this town’s training results…”

“……Yes，Your Excellency．Though bitterly cold—”

“……I believe water to be denser than wind…”

The smoke freezes and shatters into countless fragments,
The smoke falls into the pine grove,
The disorderly profusion of acacia trees and
That beautiful profile of the woman

Hundreds more, dazzling to the eyes

Electric wires intersecting wind and magnetism and [blank]

1002 [Fragments of ice]

1927, February 18,

Fragments of ice
Like marine plankton,

Through the dancing morning sunlight,

The black paint not yet dry,

A single train passed quietly.

Electricians wore red-striped hats like soldiers,

Again the morning’s lips shone modestly.

…He’d forgotten to bring the hammer…

…There was no electric furnace over there…

Ebisu Forest spread out shining white
on this side of the darkly turbid sky.
Those speckled cedar trees,
as if seen through a magnifying glass,
appeared exceedingly large that day.
...A snowfield and
smoldering mountain clouds...
East, beyond the brown pine forest,

A great white rainbow stood.

[Along that small frozen river]

Along that small frozen river

Many small dark terraces

Along the sun's shadowed side

Up to the treeless pointed volcanic neck

Cold upon cold they continued

1003 [Soxhlet]

1927, February,

Soxhlet
Glowing potassium sphere
Liebig condensers lined up in rows
Where has everyone gone, I wonder.

The hearth was burning.
The yellow clock moved forward stumblingly.

Hydrochloric acid specific gravity 1.19 (Please bring Vaseline)

For tannin quantification

Conc. alcohol (Please recover all the ether today.)

This label bears my handwriting.

It was my own handwriting from ten years ago—so terribly unsteady.
But the paper remained this white—
With no wax applied—
After all, someone—one of those similar forms—
Gasping in the cold wind—
Had undoubtedly written this with desperate focus.
...Snow reflections and poplar treetops...
How remarkable—amidst such pale dimness and rough thickets—
Surrounded by coarse undergrowth—
To perform work demanding 0.0002 sensitivity—
I was engaged in such meticulous labor.
...What spanned the sky—

Opal clouds?

Or a sequence of nearby ice fragments…

If the wind blew

If someone were to walk again,

the graduated flasks'

each differently colored solution

would sway, gleaming cleanly.

......Is colored nitric acid what you require......

......No—what my mind now seeks

is to measure the concentration of tree shadows cast upon water.

I require blue reagent……

Glaring shattered poplar branches and cloud shadows

1004 [Today is a day of bright, lively snowfall]

1927, March 4,

Today was a day of bright, lively snowfall.

In the afternoon,

around my house,

large heavy footsteps

Countless times they passed by.

Each time, I

that you, who haven’t written a reply in over a year, had come to visit

I told myself.

And truly,
That was your footsteps—and ours as well.
For that was
the snow piled thick on the treetops
falling onto the snow-covered ground.
When snow fell, yesterday’s ill-fated cypress
stood upright in Bodhisattva-like form.

1005 [In the snow under the dark moonlight]

1927, March 15,

In the snow under the dark moonlight,
What appeared black in the distance—
Was it that the shadow of a pine tree lay cast there?
If daytime came, would that pine's shadow still form a blue mother-of-pearl mosaic?
After all, the snow had melted.
If it melted so early only around there,
There was no need to spread soil on the fields even by the equinoctial week.

After all, it was early in the sandy soil areas.

If it was like this every year, then every year this place as a seedbed—

I decided to designate this for bulbous plants.

The bulb ridges also appeared neatly arranged.

A large pine branch lay blocking the path.

It must have fallen during that recent rain and snow.

I should go check the onions and penstemon.

Ah—just like that time when I was sixteen—

It was the feel of the wind across the fields at the base of Mount Iwate.

The snow vegetables had withered, but they were safely alive now.

Some mysterious pattern of withered grass—

Was this a net of moonlight?

The seedbed was entirely covered in silver arabesque patterns after all.
The ridge where hyacinths were buried had split.
Because the bottom was warm after all,
the manure had decreased and sunk down.
Though the hyacinth roots were thick and short,
they probably hadn’t snapped or broken off.
Ah yes—here too the entire ground was covered in patterns of dark withered grass.
Behind lay the town’s transparent lights with poplars and forests.
The mottled grassland exuded drowsiness.
It was a large pine branch.
Was this branch what I had seen earlier?

Kelp and alcohol.
The river was the same mouse-gray as the sky.
To the southeast hung a cloyingly sweet cloud that seemed on the verge of tears.

The soundlessly flowing water of that river.

Gorin Pass and tangled winds and—

All the way from Minakami’s

Through the transparently dark wind

River plovers cry as they ascend.

“Let’s go ahead and give them the very best transparent blue paint already.”

Somewhere in the direction of polarized light to the right,

the sound of a snipe cutting through the wind could also be heard.

Hayachine sleeps beyond the clouds.

The chill of the wind

“On the Differences in Timbre Between Crystal and Glass Flutes”

The town was—the sound of dogs and—

There, in the hollow between the huge pine trees—

The wind this time was Iaanbikku.

1006 [Because tonight is warm]
March 15, 1927,

Because tonight is warm,
along this slope path,
through pebbles glinting in pale moonlight,
all night long

The snowmelt water flowed.

...ice clouds and a row of hinoki cypresses...

That large log cabin of Shinsaku

Had the northern roof vanished?

The void of the sky was reflected.

(Planted fifteen roses
Those roses did not sprout)

1007 [Rice stubs in the paddy field form about eight rows]

March 16, 1927,

In the paddy field, rice stubs formed about eight rows

What lined up eastward as the snow melted—
Senkoro-minna at that swelling mound—
had become the aftermath of dismantling and moving soil.
If they wrapped a red blanket around their feet,
they cast indigo-colored shadows as well.

As if commemorating a single accomplished task there,
a new stake stood erected.
Silverberry shrubs and poplar trees surrounded them—
“Ah well, whoever’s payin’ ain’t one to fret over it,”
uttered sturdily through faint laughter
by that guy who’d spoken at night.

When the wind blew and snow fell on the row of pine trees as well,
through the space between faint mountains and the pines along the new road
belching clearly white smoke, the train also moved on.

1008 [That Red-Tailed Leopold—]

March 16, 1927,

That Leopold with the red tail—

He tried once more to snatch chickens,

Leopold ran through the snow of paddy fields.

The mountain glowed faintly in the blizzard,

Through the pine grove's rhythmic tread,

He administered anesthesia,

Leopold dove hurriedly through alone.

The forest donned a crown of thin down,

Crimped and acrid—the northern clouds.

[Amidst Various Antipathies and Blizzards]

March 16, 1927,

Amidst various antipathies and blizzards,
the eastern clouds glistened moist and sweet,
and the creosote-coated telegraph poles resounded.

Over the town,
the red brick agricultural warehouse burned,
the black overpass burned,
and even The fierce wind’s fire burned.

1009 Driver

March 19, 1927,

A jumble of telegraph poles and

“……Can’t take away the Benbero though……”

……Tomorrow must be our day off……

Type a form on off………Yō Denki Kabushiki Kaisha

I was now like great performers

as if before striking the piano keys
they placed their palms flat on the wheel
First Slope
once past here it was about one kilometer more
it was a straight stretch where visibility held
on this side of the indigo-blue mountain

A mushroom-shaped pine grove
The firebreak winds white around
Up 1 2 5
……The children dash and dash nearby trying to catch sight of the train
Oh those snow-pantalooned children with their short legs!
A dusk-hued clustered pine grove…

Second Slope Down 1 3 2

M――½ ←三 三

Hunh, Material Storage Yard No.2

Already alders and willows
They arrived at Segawa’s bank.
The railway tracks were warped from the cold.
A level hill and a triangular mountain
Warning whistle
That was it.
A bridge! It’s a bridge!
It’s a muddy river.
Someone like a thief
Someone with black legs veered off to the side.

A hiba hedge.

1010 [Fire shining]

March 19, 1927,

The fire shone,

The smoke rose transparent blue.

The well-polished wooden floor and

the powdery soot-covered fire-shelf key.

This house was

Bob-cut

The house was full of red-cheeked children.

Snow melted quietly outside.

And the faint white reflection of that snow

One of those children wore navy snow pants and a haori coat. The child cast separate shadows and silhouettes across the wooden floor. It stood silently watching me. Watched me. Kept watching.

As I too watched in silence, the girl's cheek twisted—twisted—Why? I wore tattered clothes. I was the esteemed teacher who carried a silver pencil.

Heading toward the far side while raising his shoulders—that abrupt spinning turn—it was exactly like the true swirl of a sword dance.

……Beyond the clouded glass shoji,

[What lay beyond] had become some sort of strange corridor

In front of that yellowish rough-walled earthen storehouse
Already many children had gathered……
That bob-cut girl from earlier
She deliberately brought the tray before everyone,
She sat properly on the wooden floor and started eating.
Placing two bowls filled with white porridge in front,
She silently licked the chopsticks.
The shadows were two.
She began to eat while stealing sidelong glances this way.
She was eating.
The bonfire had now been replaced.
Shadows here and shadows there.

“Now, now, how about heading over there?”

1011 [After noon had passed]

1927, March 19,

After noon passed

The eastern sky turned a pale honeyed red.
There, branches of han trees adorned with many black fruits
and an old-fashioned pine forest rose up.

……The sun is beautiful

Adorned in malachite hues,

the hues traversed the frail snow...

Torigamori - shaped like a horned owl's head - shone,

Tableland tableland,

along that small frozen river

Many lonely snow terraces

the sun’s far side,

if extended to the treeless, pointed volcanic neck,

the celestial focal point—the white solar disk beyond the snow-clearing

At the end of the serried black forest
At the end of zinc-colored snow
Nostalgia Agricultural School’s
long, narrow white roof came into view.

1012 [The field quivers with white polarized light]
1927, March 21,
...the field quivered with white polarized light
Violet rays drifted…

That outfit—

“Did you get that outfit from my cooperative?”

“No—thanks.”

“Fine getup.”

“Looks like you’re off to steal horses in Afghanistan.”

Then, slowly,

“How ’bout taking a wife?”

“Already took one.”

“Find one you fancied?”

……Ah—no good!

It was Eguriko Forest.

Through the windowpane

They hurled those glacial acetic acid projectiles...

Even how to use Ammonhos...

Yeah.

1013 [The Diluvial epoch having ended]

1927, March 21,

The Diluvial epoch having ended,
by the time the Kitakami River began settling into its present course,
this area had been sun-scorched plains
within a forest of Hanya Kurumi.
Here and there across those lands,
through those turbulent yet eternal centuries,
erratic boulders carried down from mountain ranges
lay scattered in chaotic disarray.
Over the ensuing eighty thousand years,
some came to bear inscriptions of nearby peaks' names
or ancient demigods' appellations etched upon them—
they now rest dispersed in orderly formation.

1014 [Beyond the mountains, turbid and dark]

1927, March 23,

Beyond the mountains lay turbid darkness
Economic panic had already arrived with spring
The fields lay under mottled porcelain snow and
The darkly gliding Yomikigawa River
Was filled with bright hope for all
While dark heavy work awaited me
There it was soon to begin
Birds feared neither thunder
Nor the great tails of clouds
[1015] [The Bucket I Drew Up]

1927, March 23,

The bucket I drew up

From within the lozenge-shaped shadow inside the well—
many bubbles
and serene ripples held—
it now emerged into Ambar light
where lay a fragment of
—seductive shell—
—Helichrysum's floral crown—
a lone moth had fallen.
From water's smooth strong tension
the moth was drowning.
I took this bold forerunner of early spring
to scoop into vitality's warm glowing sea.
Ah—already a tiny spray rose—

Iridescence
The spring moth slams into the water
Takes flight
Takes flight

It takes flight.
Zigzag steerer，desert cheerer.
Now among the grove’s tawny brown clusters，
it navigates through amorphous clouds．
1016 [Rises from black soil]

1927, March 26,

Rises from black soil—
warm spring steam
ascends through weak sunlight and rain's seams......
In the west glistens
where a fragment of white sky persists—

Sturdy snow slopes emerged……

After you’ve all joined the Labor-Farmer Party,

And then my real work will begin.
……here and there
The weaving of green felt—
The spring sparrows’ cannonade……

Ground snow and black-flowing clouds.

1017 [The sun is shining]

1927, March 27,

The sun is shining

The sky gaped dark and empty.

I fell into the bamboo grass and slept.
I was buried.

A flock of herons migrated north in full force.

1017 [The water spreads yellow]

The water spreads yellow

By now,

it had even raised waves worthy of genuine Tosa-e paintings,

glistening like the trail left by a snail,

the pine grasslands remaining on the island and
It tried to soak my cabbage field.
How and when had they gotten there?

Upon that new terrifying shore

Darkly looming, four or five people were standing there.
Tadaichi was now shouting like a howl.
Tadaichi hurled a stone into that enormous yellow water.

[1018] [Creating all permutations of black and white cells]

1927, March 28,

I created all permutations of black and white cells,
and that very cell felt them as itself,
that was the flow of consciousness.
Since that cell was also composed of many permutations of electronic systems,

After all, I am myself—a system of electronic circuits that perceives itself as I.

I speak of a certain permutation of electronic systems that I perceive as myself.

1019 [With the distant cascading gray sky and]

1927, March 28,

With the distant cascading gray sky and

In the distorted town square

I contained this rising sorrow

I scattered it as an azure myth, yet—

The small birds did not peck at it.

1020 [These people who detest labor]

1927, March 28,

These people who detest labor

And the system of those people

is scorned as a mental illness

That era, feared like leprosy,

Along with collapsing light particles, that era has finally arrived.

1021 [Over there, the Leonore constellation appears]

1927, March 28,

Over there, the Leonore constellation is out.

…As if I could bother with such nonsense…

Upon the colloidal lighting of the dazed city.

To the north swells the galaxy.

……The socialists go too far……

How many white-gleaming rings at heaven's edge—

1927, March 31,

How many white-gleaming rings at heaven’s edge—

Those white-gleaming rings at heaven’s edge—

How many times had I counted them by then—

From within that thawing wind,

The underside of the oppressive clouds darkened,

The ice-frozen volcanic neck of snow.

[1022] [Severing roots]

1927, April 1,

Cutting roots

Cutting buds

Morning sun and wind

Spring Plowing Festival’s birdsong
Clumps of soil each cast shadows.
Three rows of greening Christmas trees and
As the azure sky glittered,
The sacred heavy draft horse
At some point stealthily took its place in the back field.
Its pure white leg hair

1023 [From the South, Again from the East]

1927, April 2,

From the south

Again from the east

A tepid wind blew in.

Black clouds, madly pregnant with spring,

Traversed several wild rose thickets.

Lark and river

Upon the plateau

The sound of a train laden with seedlings.

1024 Romance

1927, April 2,

The sky was utterly rose-colored.

There stood a single young apple tree.

KeolgKol. The parent owl was crying out.

From the electric light on the mountain

To the gelatinous illumination of the city streets

KeolgKol. Is this wrong?

Within black mantles, two people

Felt blue halo-rings

The boy's lips held celery's scent

The girl's cheeks were clover blossoms

KeolgKol. I pledge eternal loyalty to you

KeolgKol. Is it wrong?

Inside the black cloak—the two of them

They sensed a blue aureole

The boy's lips—the scent of celery.
The girl's cheek—the clover flower.

“KeolgKohl. I swear eternal loyalty to you.”

[1025] [Old Hymn and...]

1927, April 4,

……old hymn and

A statue of a child adorned in linen…

The sandy soil now

A quarter had been cultivated.

The retired naval lieutenant commander
resigned from his position as a mathematics teacher
and modestly returned to Tokyo.
Hazy black clouds filled everything.

Spring: Symphony of Soaring Birds

1026 [This Morning, Carrying a Hoe and Rope]

1927, April 4,

This morning, carrying a hoe and rope

Fastening the newly made mudguards

like Crusader knights

Kissing a white page in farewell

Left not even a shadow on the wall

He came out together with the refreshing breeze, but

Now the tilled soil was dark and searing,

If he raised his eyes,

In eyes burned out and aching,

The swelling river and

Smoke entwined with tail-dragging clouds

The intricately patterned, soured afternoon’s

Isn't the entire world blue-tinted fatty acid?
Could it not be blue-tinted fatty acid?

[1027] Weeds

1927, April 5,

He had to move,

The hoe was moving on its own.

What a splendid binding this was!

In purple-copper hues like ornamental kale,

All those leaves were pointed.

With tin-colored burdock and lettuce,

To craft yet another distinct pattern here,

I now sparsely thin the edges as in a dream.

Carving an ornate arabesque
Regarding this matter, I
I shall bear the guilt of defiling every sacred thing.
As recompense for this, now I shall use this one—
I shall use it on some Romanesque lawn somewhere.
That dish-shaped flower made of golden wire
I shall spread it all across that ground
The darkness of clouds and
the brightness of sand

The brightness of sand

Now a heron alighted on some sandbar.

[1028] With truly antiquated gunny sacks for sails,

1927, April 5,

With truly antiquated gunny sacks for sails,

Moreover, against the wind,

Upstream against the heavy, full flow where the mountain's lead had melted,

Where could this boat possibly be heading?

Three men were aboard.

The truly unpleasant wind pressed against their faces.

He sang his utmost alone,
Even so complained of insufficiency with grim-faced determination.
That night they all gathered again.
Did they intend to drink about a hundred and fifty yen’s worth of yellow water?
That botched monstrosity’s yeast waste

Did they intend to go all the way to town to buy it?
If they proved too disobedient,
Tonight this rain would turn all into sleet and needles.

Every last sprout would be crushed.
[1029] So black-green were the scaly pine’s treetops

1927, April 5.

The scaly pine's treetops were so black-green,

each and every branch and needle jaggedly pointed.

There, the cold wind's dog barked,

and the rain came pelting down in droplets.

What time could it possibly be now?

There was no way to tell since the sun wasn't out that day.

Yet they stood a pencil upright on their palm.

A faint shadow would form at least.

No—it shouldn't stand upright like this.

They had to lay it flatter and bring it closer to their palm.

It leaned too far west.

It was nearly noon already and they felt exhausted despite their burning chest heat.

The pencil mustn't lie flat either.

That projection served its purpose.

If the shadow fell on the eastern foot of the opposite bridge,
it was generally fixed during daytime.
Next time I would bring a magnet.
I would anchor north to something.
However, that differed depending on its position within the field.
No—that wasn't it.

as distant as possible

the bluish-glowing peaks of mountains and

if one took into account glacial ridges and such

could be resolved with minimal error

If the wind shifts east
Those heavy, dear stripes of spring clouds
slowly drift northward.

They flowed slowly，slowly north.

[1030] Is that cloud what they call Attorakutevu?

1927, April 5,

(Is that cloud what they call Attorakutevu?)

Is it that the black cloud strikes the chest?

"That's quite the crowd mentality,"

because those similar to you—

the thousands of young people across this plain—

their sorrowful yet nostalgic thoughts

all hang upon that cloud.

Something warm and gloomily heavy,

a tepid aqueous-air suspension—

that is almost love itself.

For eighty percent of love consists

of H₂O and

The remainder is an exchange of oxygen and carbonic gas.

1031 [In the Shadow of the Now-Rebounding Clod]

1927, April 7,

In the shadow of the now-rebounding clod
A weathered green ceramic frog
That frog too rebounds.
The next clod rebounds.
It’s a spring frog still sleeping.
The reason it doesn’t move is because it’s ceramic.
The next clod is now rebounding.

Frog,

This time, after four or five days had passed,
we would plant a larch here.
By that time,

Wake up and get outside now.

[1032] Pushing the Door

1927, April 7,

Pushed the door.

The forest and—

The sun tilted westward.

The neighboring huge Yorkshire pig

turned golden,
tilting like a spinning top,
and charged headlong into the western sun—charged.

The one chasing it was the Japanese chieftain’s daughter.
Holding a stick, her hair disheveled and glistening as she chased the pig.

1033 Malice

1927, April 8,

The edges of black clouds blown together during the night

Burned by the hidden sun, the morning turned fierce.

In today's design,

Let’s employ that devil-wind rat and red.

Let’s construct it with a fish-shaped Antherium that has its mouth open.

Before long, that place will all become demon lairs,

If one were to work on that slope,

The wind would be cold

Though the sun would likely stay faint all day,

It was a gain that last evening’s sleet didn’t fall.

1034 [A Morning of Crimped, Refreshing Clouds]

1927, April 8,

A morning of crimped, refreshing clouds

Two crows.

Glacial winds pooling in the valley leapt into the clouds.

Now,

The peak of Snowdon’s summit
Emerged from between those two massive cloud fragments.

Below lay Gongendou Mountain,
Hokusai’s Chinese pictorial map
spread out as a panorama.
To the north were vague egg-white and gelatinous clouds.

The morning lamps over the amusement park
This field here was severely acidic,
only grayish lichen and mosses managed to grow.
Gongendou Mountain now turned acidic,
carving out a warlike terrain.
In the miscanthus field stood three children cloaked in mantles.

Wisdom and shadow

And the shadow of a grazing bird

The corona glow of Higashine Mountain
The granite terrain spanning from Himekami to behind Morioka
Now, a frigid northwest wind
And a damp southern wind
Were in the midst of great turmoil.
Ice fog, rain,
In the east, new strands of white-haired clouds
……Those who are guilty
And those who have hope
Let them cast their chests upon the armrest and sleep……
Children who should work

They were in town to study,
Their row of teeth shone beautifully.

Wearing blankets,
And shouldering red flannel,
Children going to schools starting at eight
stood near the amusement park.
The village girls all took on the guise of women of pleasure.
Some of them,

Striking half-formed poses,
Some had nearly achieved complete forms.
Carrying a piece of charcoal,
With large strides they crossed the railroad tracks—
A multitude of school-going children ran following—
The eastern clouds grew ever more—
The eastern clouds had augmented their white-metal virginity.
……Gongendou Mountain is now……
Gongendou Mountain now adorns the complete map of Sumeru……

Smoke and firebreak
……The clouds behind Gongendou Mountain
revealed an ocean of boundless aspiration……
Devas of the Pure Abode
resoundingly sang

Those white morning clouds

1035 [Blockhead]

April 11, 1927

Hey, you wooden puppet!

Feet exposed to the heat haze,

Getting tangled in mulberry branches,

Defiantly puffing out my chest—

They’re watching my damn work.

Black-momohiki-clad mud dolls, you damned—

The river is blue,
Takisu's sky is shining too.
May everyone be swiftly carried off by the heat haze.

1036 [Now Even Burned-Out Eyes Ache]

April 11, 1927

Now even burned-out eyes ache,
The field of vision throbs with arabesque patterns.

Friend,

The world—all—
Could it not be blue-colored fat?

1037 [The Sun Darkens]

April 13, 1927

The Sun Darkens

Pigs emerged and walked about.
They sniffed around the old cabbage field sown with lime nitrogen.
An infant had been left alone inside the house.
It searched for everyone.
It desperately sent out signals in every possible way.

1038 Doubtful Noon

April 13, 1927

You clearly

that white, round statue

Did you see that in the southern sky?

Given how fiercely the clouds over there were blazing,

as proof of noon, it would be inadequate.

1039 [Having completed half the morning's work]

April 18, 1927

Having completed half of the morning’s work,
I was like a Gypsy who had completed his journey,
while letting the wind toy with my load,
Bembero swayed too.
At the pale aqua spring riverbank—there I would lie down.

Withered grass and shadows

Snowdon's peak

Since spring arrived, the snow had melted twice,
Twice snow had fallen.
Now the turquoise sky hung hazily, its glimmer softened.

In that valley over there,
the sap of Astilbe Davidii
must have already been melting.
When one looked at the glistening mass of clouds soaring eastward,
belonging to Shaw’s class,
that beautiful woman’s thought
came through dimly, like a dream.
What was quivering and ringing—
could it have been withered grass?
Even if it wasn’t a rattlesnake,
snakes can often rattle their tails.

1040 [A halo formed]

April 19, 1927

A halo formed.

The soft wind shifted to the cold west.

Turn the plow.

If you're that sleepy

At the edge of that forest

Hyacinth-shaped

Go eat the large yellow buds.

1041 Implementation of the Cleanliness Law

April 19, 1927

The Cleanliness Law—that's what they call it—

Downstairs was only a single blue rush mat—
The rest

If one sets fire to the surrounding bamboo grass and thatch,

After some time passed,

The roads and
The houses should remain clean.

1042 [Within the Pale Yellow Haze That Envelops the Town]

April 21, 1927

Within the pale yellow haze enveloping the town
A row of lingering-bloom streetlights

My hyacinths
Many people mistook them for artificial flowers
When the sun hazed the sky with a dim yellow glow
This stall had been painted Berlin blue
1043 [Carrying Narcissus]

April 21, 1927

Carrying narcissus

Of white and yellow

"Good morning"

"...the village farmer Jacob, laughing and radiant..."

"I too have just come back from selling hyacinths."

Phew.

"Ah, cabbage seedlings"

"We will plant them along the Sen River banks,

If flooded, that'll be the end of them."

If they got flooded, that would be their end.

Mornin' to you.

It was fine weather.

The shadows of pine rows.

Dog. A yellow mangy cur.

Bird voices. Bird voices.

From within the morning sun

School-bound children
came flying out shouting like shrikes.

1044 [Azure Skies]

April 22, 1927

Azure skies pierced people's white throats.
Mountain doves sleepily murmured through midday.
The wind creaked,
and atop the wind gap loomed a massive stone cavern.

1045 [Peach-Colored]

April 24, 1927

Peach-colored

Slightly later than the agapanthus spring,

a hazy yellow enormous bird arrived.

It occupied the still-cold space there,

scattering glittering specks of pepper

and stealing then gathering people's brute force.

Just as golden thorns ripened by the sun were forming,

it had flown off to the east.

And thus,
At this age—already for everyone—
They could perceive art within their work.
That vigor had been lost.

That vigor had been lost.

1046 [Daylilies Sprout on Embankments and Slopes]

April 24, 1927

Daylilies sprouted on embankments and slopes.
The manure horse leaped and leaped.
Into the blue glass sky,
it must have been trying to become a dragon and ascend.
That manure spilled in a single day.
He wore a cotton robe with angular stripes.

Rekizan Tadaichi pressed pressed pressed
Magnolia flowers and sunlight's pale wash

1047 [Because the River Flows Against the Southern Wind]

April 25, 1927

Because the river flows against the southern wind,

its colors and patterns dance in eerie undulation.

……Eat salt and drink water

Eat salt and drink water……

A few cumulus clouds crumbled and turned reddish-brown.

If they were to make a little rain fall in the mountains,

In their midst hung the bleary outline of Hayachine’s snowy ridge.

……And if at that moment,

the tractor’s

If one spiral were to fall

The Puritans would all pray together……

楊みなめぐみ

Amidst the wild rose vines all shaking at once,
tattered dark curtains
came flying one after another from the south.

One after another, they came flying from the south.

1048 [Now Upon the Blue Snow Greens]

April 26, 1927

Now upon the blue snow greens,
Has a thin spring frost formed?
Or is it the gentle silver Monad of remaining moon-white residue?
The east hazes with yellow rose laughter.

From the river,

A warm breath of Brahma rushes in

1049 [Christ’s Second Coming]

April 26, 1927

The wind blew

The day began to darken.

All the wheat rows appeared moist,
The stone riverbed's hoes, large and small,
Ignited into blazing white.
And the exhausted and dying Chinese coolies,
Farm women troubled by childbirth from their labor,
And... those people,
In a state where none could tell waking from dream came these words:
"You—
Do you not know my name?
I am Esus
To you all,"

Again

I have promised to reveal myself
I am Esus, the only son of God.

1050 [That Everything Has Gone Awry]

April 28, 1927

That everything went awry.
All of it stemmed from our negligence.
The streetlight lingered in the fog.
A child washed their face in the river,
and toward the bridge, thick black smoke billowed from town.

1051 [Here and There Magnolias in Full Bloom]

April 28, 1927

Here and there, magnolias were in full bloom.

In the midday haze that shrouded both horns and hooves,

The honorary village head laughed and nodded.

The willows too began to bud early.

If the day of han-no cones was black,

A precise clock was indeed vast,

Those eyes forged with hatred were strong.

The small triangular rice fields

The tilling with three hoes under midday sun

How long would this continue?

They stood in wind laden with ice shards and light.

The aged plowman too had learned to laugh.

1052 Dravida Wind

May 1, 1927

A lukewarm wind blows from downstream.

The sandy soil dries; the grass withers.

Under the Dravida wind they shoulder their loads,

They tilled as if dancing against indigo-hued clouds,
they sighed as they came and went, piling cow dung,
work whirled.

The sun ripened.

All poplar buds swelled yellow into fuzz.

The river flowed with emptiness-truth and silver.
A lukewarm wind blew and blew from the south.
The planted cabbages withered and turned white.
The sneers of Brahma's disciples were distant.

Teasel.

Diadem

Green earth-binding vines.

The wind blows and blows the white sand.

How many small sand dunes had formed in the fields?
Sweat and shudder.
Those clustering on cow dung were
verdigris-colored flies from Kashmira.
When King Vessantara gave his prince to the Brahmin,
even indigo-hued mountain ridges quaked.
Turn right.

Turn left.

Sweat turned acrid as the wind blew and blew.

If one were to obtain the Mani Jewel,

First, from all cultivators and workers

Let us purchase two hours of debt per day

1053 Politician
May 3, 1927
Here and there
they stir up a commotion—
they’re all just ones who want to guzzle their fill.

Fern Leaves and Clouds

The world is so cold and dark.

But soon

Such people
Rotted away alone
Were washed away alone by the rain
What remained was only hushed blue-green ferns
And that this was the human Carboniferous
Some transparent geologist would record this
1054 [No Matter What Is Said]

1927, May 3,

No matter what they said,
I was a shining dewdrop,
a cold droplet.
Crystal-clear raindrops—
I saw them filling every branch.
It was a young mountain dogwood tree.

1055 [The Blooming of Kobushi Magnolia]

1927, May 3,

The blooming of Kobushi magnolias

Scattered clouds fly.

At the edge of this great Namako Mountain

There was a single red scratch.

That was also where I was making a flower bed.

It was Hanamaki Hot Spring’s amusement park.

1056 [With the Black Flower Called Sakinohaka]

With the black flower called Sakinohaka

The revolution would eventually arrive.

Whether bourgeoisie or proletariat,

all those cowardly lowlifes—

every last one, like mushrooms sprouting solitary in sunlight—

the day would come when they'd rot away and be washed off.

Do it! Do it now!

Those who stir up grand dramas just to justify their drinking,

those who drain life's marrow through solitary amusements,

even those false teachers preaching life as barren wasteland,

those forever measuring others against themselves—

splatter them all to pulp.

Drive out the cowardly demons from among them!

Put them all to use for fish and pigs!
Just as steel is forged, the new era forges new humans.
Shatter even the indigo-hued mountain ridges.
Use the galaxy to build power plants as well.

1057 [Within the Faded Water-Colored Twilight Dome]

1927, May 7,

Within the faded water-colored twilight dome,

At the time when great mouse-gray ornamental cabbages stood tall,

Pallas too glittered.

The town was within two layers of water.
There burned two Nastanshiya flames.

And a dog passed beneath the arc light.

That is indeed the case.

This child,

This child shall become a magician in the botanical world.

When the moon rose,

suddenly there were shadows of tree branches and a net—

there, the Gothic-style ghost of a white building.

When passing through the desolate hamlet that sold fertilizer,

that single roof had all been disguised as shells.

The scent of sea apples filled the air.

Long ago, when I existed and this school did not,

under that forest, as the child of a Shinto priest,

with a friend who had just graduated from university,

around this time in spring, I was walking here.

At that time, the wild goose made of blue phosphorescent confectionery

was suspended in the west,

The road smoked along with the grassy thickets.
The smoke from my friend's cigarette also drifted.
I gazed at a row of lights at a distant train station.
From how they appeared like a single massive building,
I said I would become the dorm supervisor of that building.
And soon this school was established.
I was appointed supervisor of that vast, empty dormitory.
I was appointed dorm supervisor.

Many times on snowy nights, my lover came visiting me - cloaked in black, disguised as a man. Now all had passed. Look: the amusement park's electric lights were ascending to heaven. Those that couldn't rise drifted sorrowfully there.

1058 [Silver Monads Scattered in the Void]

May 9, 1927,

Silver monads scattered through the void
All turning azure stood in ascetic heavens
A row of holy and pure spring trees
Torigamori's snow half-melted to owl-head shapes
For you small gentle ladies
When snow willows glistened
Beneath plum blossoms
Phosphorescence scattered by black-robed acolytes shone
Snow and blue sky aligned along ridges
Dyed with chalcanthite
Here a horse plowed fields beside white shirts
Through budless chestnut canopies
Countless glass birds descended

The ridge grows ever bluer, wavering.

1059 [Because They Sprouted Buds]

May 9, 1927,

Because they sprouted buds,

the mountain became very pale and tart-sweet.

In this brief respite,

the primary condition for communing with upper winds

is to make retreat through smoke screens

those swollen-air pufferfish

and pitiful Redei.

......The river flows smooth and tarnished......

Behold truthfully—formed upon sloping ground,

what magnificent cedar phalanxes!

Gentlemen, when May arrives,

every tree in the woods,

every single branch within those thickets,

all without exception spread tender buds.

Every single one spread out tender buds.
The river flowed bubbling up.
The daughter of a retired police chief,
wearing a water-colored jacket,
while taking the train to commute to elementary school,
watched with slight disgust
the town’s old bourgeois-origin engineers.

This place was in terrible shade.

It was that shaded place beneath the jagged Matsukura Mountain.

No one wanted to linger there too long.

But really,

Who would call this a volcanic neck?

1060 [The Apple Branch Was Eaten by a Rabbit]

May 9, 1927,

The apple branch was eaten by a rabbit.

The cherry branches remained uneaten.

The peaches were also eaten.

Ah! Look!

The ghost of that apple tree whose branches were eaten

There it stands in that valley, covered in blossoms—don’t you see?

1061 [On the Ridge Line Filled with Scarlet Bamboo Grass]

May 9, 1927,

On the ridge line filled with scarlet bamboo grass,

Clustered densely against the blue sky are the young pines.

That entire valley fell into shadow.

That Roppōsekitani valley fell entirely into shadow.

The plum blossoms at Otsu’s place float there in full abundance.

Constructed with one-shaku square wooden lattice,

It is indeed a sturdy wooden cabin.

The signboard girl from the lower hot spring inn got married,

Adults, children, and even infants

Thus they all ate plenty of roasted apples.

At that time Otsu,

wearing black silk woven with red stripes

in an Egyptian-style snow hakama,

followed along with the bride.

Thus, Otsu followed along with the bride.

1062 [Making the Cemetery Completely Square]

May 9, 1927,

The cemetery had been made completely square.

They removed the old Batō Kannon.

The large weeping cherry tree was cleanly cut down.

Beneath that cliff, the primordial untamed mountain river

flowed with spring's true essence.

After Kobayashi Ward had gone,
The nursery became an overgrown millet field.
The humus had diminished, leaving blotches of brown here and there.

The wire incline

Suspending mouse-colored tuff,

One after another, coming up from the river.

Along the sunlit rough rock edges

With the mindset of pilgrims

modestly

Returning from the western hot spring

Farmers' families

1063 [These are simple Ainu-style wooden fences]

May 9, 1927,

These were simple Ainu-style wooden fences.

Ah,
the mulberry tree in front of the house—
I tried shaping it into a Y form,
but even so, the household finances did not hold up.

April was
The water in seedling beds turned black
Small vortices of dark air swirled
Daily granules fell from skies
Through this space came crows
Their raucous cries piercing through
What manner of phenomenon could this be?

Such angular stone-strewn
fields thick with horsetail and mugwort—
giving birth while mending their previous children’s rags
cooking meals while navigating village obligations
bearing every family grievance and craving

While subsisting on coarse food and six hours of sleep throughout the year,

these women in black headscarves cultivated the land.

These same people

precisely in lieu of fertilizer costing two yen

cleared roughly one tanbu of that bamboo-choked hillside.

And

there two to of sown buckwheat yielded four to.

These women—in truth—

the imprisoned revolutionaries

the ill-fated artists

When measured against these modern heroes

Could they truly be deemed lesser?

1064 [The Antelinamu We Thought Had Vanished]

May 12, 1927,

The Antelinamu we thought had vanished

They had all grown splendidly.

A piercingly glinting blue satin sky

That flower bed over there
That was what made it glare so fiercely.
At the cliff facing into the wind,
There came a faint cicada's cry.
What exactly am I—
When did I promise summer to the hummingbirds?

1065 [Earlier, the sun...]

May 12, 1927,

Earlier，the sun had come from the grassland，
but this time tried to come through a gap in the shining clouds．
This year too，their hands were thoroughly chapped—
disordered clouds and

Countless winged insects

The wind blows, but the mountain doves do not sing.

1066 [Today, at last, I...]

May 12, 1927,

Today at last—how those shining blue horseflies strayed through the wind.
They entered my glass room.
Would they hop about my chamber in my absence?
I considered that I had thoroughly observed them.

1067 Demon Speech IV

May 13, 1927,

"If this peace torments you so,

that remaining clan of the executed

I'll have them storm your home."

1068 [Electrified clouds go splattering by]

May 14, 1927,

Electrified clouds went splattering by

The withered core of a single cedar
stood like a lightning rod
within the forest spanning Niroseri.
Under a white birch thick with sprouted new buds
an old sled lay abandoned
......the Iwate Sanroku Region's
"Conduct research on the bush type..."
Nymph, Nymphaus, Nymphaea
Borrowing fern flowers,
was it perhaps an old oak tree covered all over?
The clouds trailed black tails
and quietly circled around crossing paths.

1069 [After withering, the miscanthus...]

May 15, 1927,

After withering comes miscanthus,
glaring intense—
sun piercing azure skies,
river molten silver.

The river silver
She returned modestly alone from her lover’s place to the village school,

She was studying food chemistry.

A single cold point struck my forehead—
Was it alcohol-based rain from the blue sky?
Was it a drop of peppermint oil brought by a dragon?
A single blue fly
Passed through the corners of thought.

1070 Rumors Concerning Science

May 19, 1927,

Today, exactly around two-thirty,

the county road from Takagi to Saraki,

through the midst of deep blue wheat,

the horse was first frozen into a cylindrical shape.

Forty-centimeter diameter mercury

they attached two and headed south.

Then about eight and a half minutes had passed.

They attached six of the same cylinders to a vehicle.

Two people carried them away.

No—that old West Iwate Volcano's

youngest brother-equivalent

planned to use fluorine for its next eruption,

and was reportedly making all sorts of preparations.

1071 [We]

June 1, 1927,

We

We had lived together exactly one year.

That woman was gentle and pale,

her eyes always seeming to behold some dream beyond my understanding.

One morning of that summer when we came together,

I stood at the bridge on the town's outskirts

because the flowers brought by a village girl shone with such beauty.

When I bought them for twenty sen and returned home,
my wife had arranged them in the vacant goldfish jar
and displayed them in the shop.
When I came back that evening,
my wife looked at my face and smiled strangely.
On the dining table were various fruits
and even white Western-style plates set out,
so when I asked what had happened,
she said: “Those flowers sold for exactly two yen at noon today.”
…the blue night’s winds and stars,

Bamboo blinds and fires to send off souls...

And that winter,
My wife, without any suffering to speak of,
Withering away, crumbling—she fell ill and passed away in a single day.

1072: Speaking to the Rain Clouds on the Mountain Pass

June 1, 1927,

Dark, wanton rain clouds,
...If I may borrow the words of translator and baritone singer Mr. Shimizu Kintarou...
To borrow the words of Mr. Shimizu Kintarou...
I—from the hazy glimmer on this mountain pass's heights,
from the fragrant cold wind that passes through here again,
from the valley's fierce blue etchings once more—
in trying to wash away my dark passion,
in the brief interlude of today's journey having climbed to this watershed's summit—

Having climbed to this summit of the watershed—
Look here, O black nimbus—
...translator and baritone singer Mr. Shimizu Kintarou’s—
To borrow the words of Mr. Shimizu Kintarou…
You instead made me—
Against Earth’s blue swelling—
Promise even stronger desire
And tried to lure me into the citadel of wind
Truly, upon those twisted birch branches
A thrush came flying with black tree berries in its beak
How it saw me and fled in panic
Flat black sea cucumber of the atmospheric layer

At the saddle of Goyōzan

With your various obscene lights and forms,
You displayed every transformation and apparition,
Your shadow formed a gigantic net
Uniformly covering mountains that should have blazed scarlet
From my field of vision,
Nearly making those sculptures lose their way
Considering all these together,
O mysteriously soft nimbus—
...You see—
If you would but obey
Mr. Shimizu Kintarou, translator and baritone singer...
Finally through those terrifying contrasts of light and shadow
To shroud the entire sky,

Furthermore pouring from there liquid resonating with cello tones
...reaching out hands toward Largo of White Polar Sea...
You extend wanton tendrils toward me
Sending through wind mysterious fragrance—indistinct from wild roses yet making hearts race—
Holding eastward plains of white radiance indistinguishable between lake and cloud

Finally flipped its jet-black tail.

……a single point glimmers in the sunlight below……

Do you advance to seize me?

1073 Mine Station

1927, 6, 1,

Ores were drenched, signals were drenched.

If even hats marked with the 工 character got wet,

The mountain's fresh leaves too—the miner's child's

Black bat-shaped umbrella got wet.

Goyōzan: clouds coming and going

Again in mid-sky, clouds coming and going

The old inn's carp streamers fluttered as they were hastily stored away

The telegraph pole atop the pass stood solitary amid the roiling clouds.

From within the rain of clouds and paulownia grove

Two wet, bare thoroughbreds emerged.

When their ears stood and their tails swayed,

They were splendid thoroughbreds, worthy of bronze statues.

Striking rain and cleaving air,

A child clenched a fist.

The child startled the horses into running.

The horses frolicked with each other,

mountain ridges where cloud tails crisscrossed.

Signals were drenched; houses were drenched.

1074 [The Utmost Limits of the Blue Sky]

1927, 6, 12,

At the farthest reaches of the blue sky

Above an atmosphere where even hydrogen is too rarefied

"I am all that exists.
The world is but a fleeting blue dream's shadow."

Even such things as these
they are too heavy to contemplate
eternal and transparent swarms of creatures dwell

1075 [Am I to die today?]

1927, 6, 13,

Am I to die today?

The crown of black and white cumulus clouds floating in the east—
Is it permissible for me to take it?

1076 Delirium

1927, 6, 13,

Sin had now transformed into illness.

I was adrift,

I lay sleeping in the valley sky.

If only... If only...

This body in fever—

O blue spear leaves of this year, take root!

From this humidity,

Nurtured by the rain,

Moisten the drought-stricken earth.

1077 [Beneath That Pale Blue Sky]

1927, 6, 30,

Beneath that pale blue sky

Those who had money were all rigorously prepared,

Yet there remained no path wherever they tried to contrive.

......A tepid wind merged with some swirling vortex of sound......

This was the pagoda tree.

A sweet fragrance and swarming bees

Through those colloidal shadows

Moon-hued flowers gently descended.

In the distance, horses snorted with rhythmic precision.

1078 [Now That All Means of Raising Funds Have Been Exhausted]

1927, 6, 30,

Now that all means of raising funds had been exhausted

In the dazzling cirrostratus clouds
The silver-gray town smoke vanishes as it rises

1079 [I am sitting precisely in your current chair]

1927, 7, 1,

I was
sitting precisely in your current chair
When you came to visit me
……Acacia branches swaying gently……
The things I said and the expressions I showed
Could it be that I did not hurt you?
……crumbling and glowing summer clouds……
That was because today I was exhausted and worn out
I had come to visit you, but
Ah, your words and countenance—
had now intensified severalfold

……the wind too burns……

It pierces my chest.

……the wind too burns……

The rice grass burns……

1080 [Chestnut Trees in Bloom]

1927, 7, 7,

Chestnut trees in bloom

Rice fields everywhere green and flat,

It is July in Ihatov.

With eyes like caves

One who gazes at the wind...

Hazel trees and miscanthus grass clusters

The reeds are neatly cut

This year too blaze iris flowers

And faintly glow thistle flowers

Layer upon layer of mountain ranges with clouds billowing across them

Evening primrose petals wilt

Eyes gray-hued and unassuming

A closely cropped red beard

A countenance weathered by wind

Furthermore two pairs of

When accompanied by mental activity

A countenance worthy of a saint’s statue.
The shoulder of Iioka Mountain opened up.
From there rose the bluish-white western sky.

1081 [In the quiet sunshower over the marsh]

1927, 7, 10,

In the quiet sunshower over the marsh

The blue reeds wound you

The irises' flames flicker and burn.

The rain, the clouds, the water, the woods

Because you all are also myself,

What in the world are we to do?

If the stalks slip,

Golden stalks

1082 [That Rice Field Over There]

1927, 7, 10,

That rice field over there—
that strain has slightly too much nitrogen—
now decisively cut off its water—
we'll stop the third weeding—

...pushing carts while
spotting me from afar
they run wiping sweat...

Then if this weather
persists five days straight—
those drooping leaves—
these kinds of drooping leaves—
they'll pluck and strip them clean.

...the child wiped sweat.
In the green rice fields, that child busily wiping their forehead sweat...

“And then—you got that? If that rice grows past your chest by the end of this month, eh? Use the button on your shirt as a ruler, okay? You’ll trim off the leaf tips.”

Was he crying?
He must have been wiping tears...
...When he came to my winter lecture—
though they say it comes after a year of labor—
his cheeks still shone radiantly with an apple-bright smile.
Now he stood already weathered by sweat and sunburned raw.

He had grown haggard from nights of sericulture...

"You designed that field yourself."

"I've thoroughly inspected that rice field too."

"The Rikuu No.132 variety—"

"—that went quite well."

"The fertilizer was spread without any unevenness,"

"the planting method and growth were truly excellent."

"Even the ammonium sulfate—you probably spread that yourself."

"People may say all sorts of things,"

"but over there requires no concern at all."

"At two koku five to per tan, it was practically guaranteed."

"Do it properly."

"The real study from now on—"

"While playing tennis—from the commerce teacher,"

“It’s not something learned within fixed hours.”

“Like you—you know,”

Blizzards and scant work breaks

While crying,

The learning etched into their bodies

Sent forth new buds vigorously sprouting,

No telling how far they might reach.

That became the learning for all farmers of the new era.

"Well then, farewell."

From clouds and from wind,
Transparent energy
Pour down upon that child.

1083 [From the south and again from the southwest]

1927, 7, 14,

From the south and again from the southwest.
The soft breeze blew throughout the river valley.
After seven days of relentless rain.
It rippled the overgrown rice plants.
It shook dark dew from each leaf.
The soft breeze blew throughout the river valley.

Within this mid-July period
Twelve crimson dawns and
six days counted at ninety percent humidity
abnormally high temperatures with fog—
many rice plants had overgrown until near autumn.
All their stems grew weak and pliant,
amidst Minor Heat putting forth drooping leaves,
the dawn sky's red fragments were borne by rain.
Here and there, rice blast spots formed,
borers stretched leaves into yellow streaks.
This morning the golden rose of east bloomed too,
clouds surged upward making blue skies emerge,
stagnant fog soared across great distances.
From the forest-buried horizon

From the ruins of many old volcanoes
The wind shook the entire expanse of rice fields,
When even the sweat-soaked shirts dried,
The wind cooled the heated foreheads and eyelids of the child farmers.
Ah—the brisk transpiration
the transfer of transparent sap—
In the absorption of phosphoric acid and silicic acid
The cell membrane’s firm cohesion—
The dried and hardened leaves and stems were
Tempered by the strong cold wind—
Oryza sativa—O you who no longer resemble rice—
Until this place became the Kyrgyz steppe—
The soft breeze blew throughout the river valley.

1084 [People Have Already Since Two Thousand Years]

1927, 7, 24,

For two thousand years now people have labored
to level the earth
and make it uniformly green in summer
yellow in autumn—
striving endlessly toward this end—
yet why does our soil still refuse
to yield its own indigo horizon
and flowering fruits?
What looms yonder—bluish-green and darkly sinking—
are hieroglyphic clouds of pollution
while uneven terrain betrays nitrogen's excess.

1085 [When Noon Weary Sleeps Upon the Mound]

1927, 7, 24,

When noon, weary, slept upon the mound
When a single cumulonimbus cloud flashed and soared
The Seven Kōshin Monument stood cold,
(Why were no songs sung during weeding the fields?
Why were no songs sung during grass cutting?
And that ash-colored hut on the cliff—
Why were there no songs during rice hulling?)
The northern breeze whispered through the pines.
The azure spears of rice faintly swirled.

All the yellow violets and balsams
Blue-green or
Henruuda Carmine’s konpeito glisten
(Like gorge stream waters
Like November winds
To ceaselessly gain—with crisp vigor—an unwearied colossal form)

1086 At the Dahlia Exhibition

1927, 8, 16,

In 1927,

The summer of this Ihatov region

Since entering this century, [the summer] has shown a terrifying carnation hue and humidity unprecedented in living memory,

It displayed a terrifying carnation hue and humidity.

As a result, the main crop in this region—Oryza sativa—

The rice—those azure spear-like ears—

Compared to normal years, they had already experienced forty percent excessive elongation.
Some of them had fallen and never risen again.
Some bore white empty husks without flowers.
And that hexagonal Shevalier,
the ears of Horadium barley strains with their beautiful beards—
in the fields, some shed while others germinated still on the ear.
That harvest was nothing short of frantically busy and chaotic.

To fill these gaps,
the gentlemen gathered four hundred varieties of lamps
and flowers of Dahlia variaviris
from within that humid, high-temperature atmospheric layer,
arranging them on white linen-covered tables
within this pale tuff building's quartz-lamp illumination
amidst the fragrance of immersion liquid alcohol.
Through the windows peered distant rows of tropical-style red gate fires,
as the flowers' quality
was put to public vote by us all.

The scores had been tallied.
Since the rankings were now determined,
now setting aside my personal preferences,
why did these flowers obtain such high scores?
I considered their causes.
Number 101 had indeed secured first place;
though its form was of common decorative style,
observe its hues with even greater scrutiny.
What color should this be named?
Dissolving all things red,yellow,
white,
black,
purple,
and brown—
alone,
like dawn,
he slowly and sorrowfully contemplated.

If one were to permit this flower the great explosion it desires,
or perhaps the mercury color that new grand science temporarily permits?

Or was it perhaps the color of that unknown passion belonging to a new enormous faith?

It did not easily permit anticipation.

Even if one were to truly examine the voters for this flower,

Members of the earnest Labor-Farmer Party

From law and religious university students,

Christian Mr. T—the agricultural school principal—alongside Mr. N were listed,

So to speak, those of the 1920s—
toward a new world that was to come—
it was as a symbol of hope that they viewed this flower.

Following this was Number 140.

How modest it was—

It would have been a gentle Shina songstress.

That seething grape-crimson passion,

concealed at the base of each cactus petal:

The twisted tips of the flower

recited strange lyrics born of tradition.

As for those snow-white ones that showed an almost imperceptible pale blue at their very tips,

they demonstrated the pure sublimation of that passion.

Had this town—

still undisrupted by modern civilization—

been Tōno or Yarkand,

Probably, this flower would have received first-place votes.

Furthermore, deep red Number 305,

This flower—precisely that which lay beyond the window—

Tonight, the tropical Indus region burned its gates in rows

It showed a ceaselessly moving red fire wheel.

He concluded with one final word:

"As for the flowers that had received today’s votes,

not a single one among them had been perfected.

In their unperfected state, they progressively decomposed,

already that evening their petal tips were eroded by oxygen,

and it was thought they would vanish within a few days."

Already, up until today within the fourth stage,

They had carved a considerable trajectory up to that point.

1087 [Jishibari Vine]

1927.8.20.

……Jishibari vine……

Stop working.

There are times when working becomes cowardice itself.

The dawn thunderstorm

had knocked down the rice plants I'd nurtured everywhere

so here I was laboring in this crazed manner

trying to drown out the anxiety.

……Ah, but once more anew—

To the west, the black silhouettes of death loomed.

In spring, in spring—
Wasn't that bright love itself……
Alright—
I went back and made ready to be soaked through.

I tied my head tight and went out,
I turned pale,

Upon the hardened faces of many
I confronted each person one by one,
I urged them on as if set ablaze,
I answered that I would compensate for the unharvested portion, but
I threw the insurance money obtainable by my death at those people, but—

1088 Prayer

1927.8.20.

Chasing after the fallen rice plants,

Will it keep raining even now?

I worked as a railway laborer one winter,

Borrowed money at interest rates that cut like knives,

The rice I'd finally fertilized—

Must I still crush it to ruin?

The electric company

Noon sets this sky ablaze,

Through every paddy they've strung sacred ropes,

Erected paper offerings too,

All waiting for autumn's bounty—

Yet mindless dark rain clouds—

1089: Asking the Road

1927.8.20.

The reason two o'clock is this dark—

Has the clock become drenched through?

After leaving the main highway,

The path wound through fallen rice plants and
gloomy shadows of hiba cypresses and
He wound through bend after bend until arriving here,
Considering the distance, he hadn’t walked all that much yet.
And just where is the destination I'm heading to—
The northern violent rain clouds clinging to the ground.
Again, lightning over the rice fields.
As if damn well licking its way across everywhere with that glare.
The real thunder hadn’t yet begun to roar
Here and there
The waterwheels spun like madmen—

...East: poplars...

You damn thunder finally unleashed your fury

The road into the fields and paddies

Now that the road had branched into so many paths like this,

I had no choice but to ask at this house.
What a gloomy, narrow entrance that was!
Hiba cypresses and mulberry trees and toppling pampas grass—
moreover, they were sopping wet,
as if they dwelled in fear of all humankind.
In the white gleam of the rain,
inside a small thatched house—

In the tatami room of the small thatched house

A woman lay alone, holding a child.

The disheveled breasts and interior—

Flies and darkness,

The woman turned toward the direction with apparent reluctance.

In the hospital’s X-ray where Takahashi-kun had been appearing…

I was asking almost distractedly.

1090: [No Matter What I Do, It’s Too Late]

No matter what I did, nothing was in time.
The whole world wasn't in time.

One of those dear comrades
Again, lightning over the rice fields.
He read magazines and kept rabbits
The rabbits' eyes were red and moist.
When they ate grass, they sang like small birds.
What northern darkness this was.
It must have struck all at once again.
And even that was too late.
Under the eaves of a poor hut,
He placed them into nest boxes he had made himself.
Ten rabbits were lined up there.
In an olive flannel shirt cut like an overcoat,
In an olive-colored crepe shirt,
Wearing long boots
The bright-cheeked young man
The young man came running from the rear area.

While getting drenched in the fierce rain,
he showed me the house I was seeking.
The person I was seeking and—
curly hair, eyes, and way of speaking—all exactly alike.
That person,
laughing as if he knew me,
gave detailed directions.
Ah, the house is so dark I can't even muster the will to thresh straw.

If I go out into the rain, the rabbits do not sing.
Restless, restless—O you there—

Surely the one I seek

He must have been saying with a laugh.
“Ah，Cousin? You haven’t been working at all—just idling around.”

“You’re just idling around.”

The entire world—no matter what one does—is too late.

O you of this beloved modern civilization and nascent culture's transition—

1092: Dedicated to the Fujine Temperance Society

1927, September 16,

Today, I was headed to the neighboring village of Iwasaki
to observe the autumn results of the Sugiyama-style rice cultivation method
and had come through here.

Today's small journey—
What brightness it gave me!
The clouds took shape like coiled wire cages and shone fiercely,
a morning thick with imminent rain's threat—
yet Peace Avenue's banked rows of trees

All were decorated with beautiful blue ivy,

The rows of trees stood emerging from a hazy white mist.

And perhaps because the railway had been built,

The road was buried on both sides with grass and dew,
The remaining portion now undulated beautifully like a country path.

From where and with what motive this group came into being,

Who wrote those handbills,

Who posted them all over—

That I do not know,

But already we had swallowed a single fissure in our world.

In these three years of severe drought,

All our embankments had run dry.

In the dikes and ditches, enormous fissures had formed everywhere.

We filled them with clay in winter,

At times to the point of nearly submerging our bodies,

We dug ditches and pounded clay into them to pack it tight.

In those fields, water had pooled and the rice planting came early,

Even after this suddenly transformed shadow-laden rain-drenched July,

The rice plants remained untouched by blast disease.

Gentlemen, forgive my momentary use of an antiquated metaphor.

Alcohol is a fissure.

However much new technology or policy

No matter how much new technology or policy attempted to bring abundant rain and irrigation water—
To fields with fissures—cold water
Every day they had to busily irrigate.
Gentlemen, in the eastern light railway lines and
In the regions where the western electric trains had passed,

Through these transportation benefits,

Forests and woods of nearly worthless value

Because these suddenly generated substantial income,

There, alcohol had poured in even from the south—
Now they were actually poorer than before.
They must have known many debts had piled up—
Moreover, gentlemen—the new era already
those who cannot speak among others without drinking alcohol—
Such cowardly people—
We need not suffer even a single one—
those who cannot settle discussions without drink—
If such idiotic consultations—
Better never begun at all—
We—living—vibrant soul to soul

With those glittering eyes meeting eyes,
We vie with each other and yet laugh.
Truly now before us
A new world has opened.

If one is achieved, that becomes the foundation for achieving the next.

*Poem Notebook* Appendix

To the Students

[Fragment 1]

These four years
How joyful these four years have been for me!
I spent each day
singing like a bird in the classroom.
I swear and tell you—
through this work

I have never felt fatigue.

[Fragment 2]

(They had all left us.

They possessed good heredity and upbringing.

All facilities and respite and—

Here, in the intervals between sweat and blizzards—

There was only distorted time and crude guidance.

They possessed a hundredfold speed.

We did not possess tenfold strength.

What would save us from this darkness?

Burn all toil and worries!

Transform the form of all yearnings!)

[Fragment 3]

Like a fresh wind, like a crisp nebula
A lucid, joyous tomorrow will arrive.
Gentlemen, that ridge of indigo-hued Kitakami Highlands—
Let us swiftly reshape its form.
The meadow grasses shall abruptly double their stature.
New congregations of trees and blossoms

、

,

,

、

、

[Fragment 4]

Gentlemen, when the indigo horizon swells and rises,
do you desire to be engulfed within it?
Truly, you exist within that horizon -
you must become every form of mountain range.

[Fragment 5]

Sakihahaka...

Come
It is a single transmitted ray of light.
It is the ordained southern wind.

Gentlemen, are you compelled and led by this era—
Do you desire to endure submissively like slaves?
Rather, gentlemen, create a new and proper era!
The cosmos ceaselessly changes through us.
Tides and winds,
Advancing beyond merely exhausting all natural forces,
Gentlemen must strive to form a new nature.

[Fragment VI]

O Copernicuses of the new era,
From the overly oppressive laws of gravity
Set free this galactic system
O Darwins of the new era,
Riding further upon the calenture of Oriental contemplation,
Reaching even beyond galactic space
An even more transparently profound and accurate geological history
Show us the revised biology
Is carried out as if by impulse itself

All agricultural labor—
Through cold, transparent analysis
Together with that indigo shadow
Elevate [all agricultural labor] to the realm of dance.
Talented gentlemen must simply carve these out.
Generally speaking, according to statistics,
Gentlemen, there must be at least a hundred geniuses among you.

[Fragment VII]

New poets,
From storms, from clouds, from light,
Having gained new transparent energy,
Suggest the form that humankind and Earth must take.

O Marxes of the new era,
Transform this world moved by blind impulses
Into a marvelously beautiful structure.

Gentlemen, do you not sense this brisk wind
Blowing from your future realm—
This transparent, pure wind?

[Fragment VIII]

If we argue based solely on today's historical and geological records,

From our ancestors to ourselves,
all faiths and virtues even appear to have arisen from mere misunderstanding.
Moreover, science remains dark,

[It] left us guaranteed nothing but suicide and despair,

This squabbling over who surpasses whom,

This arguing about whose work achieved what—

Do we have leisure for such empty words?

Now let us become one [the rest is blank]