Inside the city walls of stone in the pleasure quarter I feel deeply mortified that my talents outshine all the others The river glitters, the waters clear, and the seagulls swim in pairs The sky looks hollow, the clouds serene, and the wild geese fly in rows My embroidered dress partly borrows the hue of hibiscus The emerald wine shares the scent of lotus If I did not reciprocate your feelings Would I dare to feast with you, Master He?
We present this work in honor of the 10th anniversary of the poet’s death.
There was a clever boy. When he’d leave off whistling, he would examine the far distance with a pair of binoculars. When he grew tired of the binoculars, he would play with a tape-recorder. Or at times he would examine a girl with his binoculars and record the sounds she made on the tape-recorder, as he whistled the tune “I Love Your Eyes.” Her mind was more tender than he’d expected, and seemed to ripple. Her lips were unopened buds, so nothing ask! And her ears—ah, there was no sound. The clever boy took notes.
One day there was a strange girl there. Let me explain in what way she was strange. Her footsteps were the road’s footsteps, the sound of her running was the sound of the wind running. So when the girl ate an apricot, there was the sound of the apricot eating her. When the girl swam, the sea came for a swim. The boy wondered, then, which was real? Which sound he should tape-record? What if the girl should like me? The boy was suddenly afraid. The boy by then already liked the girl. I think you know what comes next. The boy stopped taking notes. He put his ear to the girl’s ear. And—ah, there was a sound. This ear—ah, it’s my sound! the boy said.
We present this work in honor of the poet’s 175th birthday.
Love faded away, the keepsake she left me is these children, three or four.
I eat, I sleep… it’s all the same today as yesterday.
The clock strikes one at midnight,
I spring up, I straighten a quilt over the sleeping children by my side.
Love faded away, true love will return to me never again…
Love faded away before I grasped her tight.
But what’s that ?—the clock goes on striking.
Love faded away, the rats in the ceiling gnaw a pillar,
My life too is bitten by a tough chap called Time…
There’s tomorrow, there’s tomorrow, things will be done tomorrow…
I ask myself, what’s that tomorrow you speak about?
The houses stand like the teeth of a comb,
I build in one of them my own nest,
And gaze at the keepsake Love left me.
We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, Labor Thanksgiving Day.
this no-thingness within,
Which I’ve become.
So to remain
Only one thing’s needed:
I think, breathe with my whole body – Marvellous.
The joy’s so pure,
It’s beyond lovemaking, anything.
I can see, live anywhere, everywhere.
I need nothing, not even life.
We present this work in honor of the Japanese holiday, Autumnal Equinox Day.
If you give me ten cups of King of Kings to drink
I shall throw you a kiss
ah, what a pitiful waitress I am.
Outside the blue window, rain falls like drops of cut glass
under the light of the lantern
all has turned to wine.
Is Revolution the wind blowing north…?
I’ve spilled the wine
opening my red mouth over the spill on the table
I belch fire.
Shall I dance in my blue apron?
“Golden Wedding,” or “Caravan”
tonight’s dance music….
Still three more cups to go
How’m I doing? you ask
I’m just fine
although I’m a nice girl
a really nice girl
I scatter my feelings
generously like cut flowers
among petty pigs of men.
Ah, is Revolution the wind blowing north…”