English translation of the prose
AI-assisted English translation of the prose; quoted poems remain in Japanese. The Japanese original remains authoritative.
AI-assisted English translation. The Japanese original remains authoritative.
Originally published:
This material was published on the Japanese website. Dates and notices in the text reflect the original publication.
This is a prose translation. The eight tanka and their wording quoted in the commentaries remain in Japanese.
Romantic Poetry Forum: Autumn, November 2024
November 16, 2024
Record and commentary: 河内裕二, Japan Romanticism Society
“Once every four years” probably makes many people think of the Olympics. This year they were held in Paris. The United States won the most medals, and in that country a presidential election takes place every four years in the Olympic year. The result came out a few days ago: Donald Trump would be the next president. I knew that a president could serve up to two terms, eight years, but had never thought about a return to office, so I was honestly surprised. Looking into it, I found that only one president had previously returned: Stephen Grover Cleveland, the twenty-second and twenty-fourth president. That was 132 years ago. Even if not unprecedented, a return is extremely rare. Trump also surprised me with the attempted assassination at a campaign rally. There is no doubt that he is an “unconventional” person. What effect will he have on Japan after taking office?
The poetry meeting was held on November 16 at the Miura Working Citizens' Center, from 1:30 a.m. as written in the source.1 Those present were the following six people and 河内裕二: 三宅尚道, president of the Miura Tanka Society; 加藤由良子, 嘉山光枝, 清水和子 and 羽床員子; and 濱野成秋, president of the Japan Romanticism Society. 嶋田弘子 also submitted poems.
亡き夫がみやげに買いしパナマ帽
野分立つ朝友かぶり来ぬ 由良子
The author is 加藤由良子. Deep affection for her late husband and the sense of his loss are beautifully expressed through a concrete object, a Panama hat. Moreover, this is not a hat he bought for her: he gave it to a friend as a souvenir, and the friend has continued to cherish it. Since the poem says 「野分立つ」, the season is probably autumn or early winter. It may be a little late for a Panama hat, but the friend wore it to visit the author at the beginning of the day. Seeing it may have made her feel lonely at her husband's absence. More than that, however, his good bond with his friend probably warmed her heart and prompted the poem.
今年また好きな食材大根の
おろぬき貰い胡麻和えにして 光枝
The author is 嘉山光枝. 「おろぬき」 means thinned-out daikon greens, which she says she receives every year from a farmer who grows daikon. This is an ordinary instance of neighborly relations, but 「好きな食材」 reveals the warmth between giver and recipient, while 「今年また」 tells us that the relationship continues year after year. Eating the daikon brings her modest joy and peace, and her gratitude comes through clearly. Perhaps this is because the colloquial language gives the whole poem an approachable atmosphere. We can picture her cooking in the kitchen and eating at the table. Those sesame-dressed greens must be delicious.
何処より辿り着きしか流木の
木彫となりて展示待ちおり 和子
A poem by 清水和子. At a woodcarving exhibition, a work carved from driftwood caught her eye. She felt deeply moved by the drama in wood that had drifted through different places before arriving, something absent from ordinary wood. The poem invites readers to imagine immediate questions—where the wood came from and what shape the artwork took—while also suggesting that the process of a felled tree drifting through rivers, seas and other places before receiving new life as a carving might be a metaphor for life. Its language has classical beauty too. It is an excellent poem with deep meaning.
ひとり去りふたり去りつの今日日なり
隙間埋め得る一興はありか 弘子
The author is 嶋田弘子. The poem is suffused with desolation. People close to her had successively died or moved away, and she writes of that loneliness and loss. The eye is inevitably drawn to the final question 「一興はありか」. It shows her strength of heart in not losing hope: she must find something, and surely will. Yet the question seems addressed not only to herself but to readers, and conveys somewhere within it anxiety over whether an answer can really be found. Many people can empathize with this poem.
「ただいま」と大声出せば何となく
空気和らぐ一人暮らしの 員子
The author is 羽床員子. Simple words delicately express her inner movement. 「ただいま」 is normally addressed to someone. Saying it where no one is present emphasizes loneliness and solitude. But the author has sung in a chorus for many years and knows from experience the mysterious power of giving voice to words. Speaking aloud brings peace and warmth to the heart, so that 「空気和らぐ」. It is a poem uniquely hers.
コンビニでコロッケ買ひぬ店員は
「残り三つ」と答へる霜月 尚道
The author is 三宅尚道. Much meaning is condensed into a concise description of a moment in everyday life. The final word 「霜月」 sets the poem's story in motion. It is already the cold season, and seeking a warm croquette in the chill seems likely to warm both body and heart. Yet imagining the scene raises questions: if it is warm food, why a croquette rather than oden? If fried food, why a croquette rather than fried chicken? Convenience-store customers often come alone, saying little, so the shop is probably quiet. The clerk's voice, 「残り三つ」, rings out with immediacy, while the suggestion that the item is about to sell out stimulates the customer's desire to buy. A little bargaining game takes place. It is like watching a short play.
橘のかほりも嬉し明日香路は
亡き父母の魂も生き居て 成秋
A work by President 濱野成秋. In beautiful Asuka, as the poet smells the tachibana blossoms, he is enveloped by a feeling that his parents' souls live in this place. The fragrance, Asuka's landscape and the souls of his deceased parents merge beautifully, moving readers deeply. This poem needs no words of explanation. Read it together with the author's feelings, and everything comes through.
晩秋の風に舞ふ葉が音もなく
歩める道に影を映せり 裕二
My own work. I composed it after seeing fallen leaves blown by the wind while walking at the end of autumn. It captures a single instant, but I chose words that allow a sense of spatial and temporal expanse. I also made the poem open to various interpretations, so that some readers might take the landscape description as a metaphor.
This time two poems used dialogue. Conversation gives a poem immediacy. By making it colloquial, it also makes the expression direct and familiar. Yet 三宅's poem gave a different impression. Perhaps one could say that its vocabulary is colloquial while its grammar is literary: it uses expressions never found in everyday conversation. That mixture gives an unusual atmosphere to a poem set in a convenience store, a symbol of daily life. I have never used dialogue in a poem. One reason is that introducing conversation makes it long, and I cannot express it within the limited number of characters. Perhaps, by mixing colloquial and literary language as 三宅 does, I might use dialogue to convey what I want in a way I have not tried before.
1. Translation note: the source states 「午前一時半」, “1:30 a.m.” This has not been silently changed to an afternoon time. The opening discussion of the election reflects November 2024.
Original wording, author credits, notes and source materials are preserved there.