Yoko Danno Page 3 IN PURSUIT OF A BIRD
You are in my brain,
I feel time flies faster than ever. Because I digest food slowly lately? Or am I already traveling around another sun, or another moon? I wish the orbit of my thought could be traced more precisely and the geography in my brain explored more in detail. Ethereal fragments of consciousness, along with earthbound urge, should be eventually put together into a meaningful whole. Is there a mastermind behind all of this mysterious integrating process? I sent a letter to
my friend with a wrong address. I didn’t know he had moved. Someone
In pursuit of
the swan, he arrived at the land of Harima by way of Ki, then The man in the
topic was instructed if he found the bird, the child―an emperor’s
son who was unable to speak―would be able to speak. But is it
possible, at the present time, to wander over the Japan Island of
the 8th century? Let alone to find the bird? I’m told
‘past’ Ki lies in the Ki
Peninsular facing the Pacific Ocean. I once visited there on a
school excursion when I was a child. Harima, far down south of Inaba,
is the birthplace of my grandmother. Carried in a palanquin,
crossing mountains, she married into a sake-brewing family in Taniha,
my ancestors’ place. In Aumi is Lake Biwa, home to multiple birds.
In mino comorants are nurtured to fish for humans. In Wohari I lived
with my family for two years. Koshi is present-day Hokuriku,
northeasterly coastal area. On my way to Shinano My letter must be
carried around in a postman’s bag in search of his whereabouts. I
hope I have recently
lost my voice, caused not by a laryngeal cancer, but from
hypertension―I need to perform magic in front of old people in a
nursing home. Most of the audience is suffering from dementia, but I
am warned they are strangely quick-eyed in seeing through tricks. It
is rumored they are trained nightly by particular owls to see
through the darkness. I wonder,
however, if we should always expect replies to our letters. Emily
Dickinson
Quoted from “Songs and Stories of the Kojiki” (trans. by Danno), compiled and recorded in the 8th century, Japan. original publisher is a glimpse of (http://aglimpseof.net).
WILD NIGHTS
Puffing and panting, I wanted to prolong
my stay downstairs a little longer so that she might be finished for
I was struggling
for days to write a poem about a woman―without success. The woman
appears in the mirror on the wall from time to time when I look at
my reflection and sets She is a big woman, followed by a lot of friends, but whenever I try to observe her closely the spaniel and the Spaniard appear and form a triangle with her. I usually lose sight of her in the ‘magical’ triangle, utterly lost in the thick mist. Incidentally, a few days ago I read a mystery in which a murderer is ambushed by the assumed victim. You know what?
However hard you try to flee from your giant or your fellow dog, you
I feel a current of humid air from the south and hear the calls of birds hurrying home. Cicadas have stopped singing―sign of a storm. Clouds are gathering. The sky will soon be entirely covered without a break―through which I may have a chance to peep into a world beyond, as vast and deep as a madness for flight. Yes, an easy breakthrough is rare. It is blowing wild,
sleet banging on the roof tiles, my old house creaking badly; in
occasional flashes of lightning a pair of trees are revealed―the
boughs in common, the trunks joined together like Siamese twins,
tempest of worries howling across the hill,
original publisher is a glimpse of (http://aglimpseof.net).
© Copyright, 2014, Yoko Danno. |