Three poems from “Roses and Hanako”—Yosano Akiko (1878-1942)
These translations, like my translation of “Aomori Elegy III,” I undertook almost a decade ago for an undergraduate final. I stand by the way I translated these a bit more strongly than by the way I translated “Aomori Elegy” due to the simpler language. Yosano was a pioneering Modernist poet, but these poems were for her young daughter and most of the language in them is very direct. Think of this as a belated holiday upload; Children’s Day in Japan is May 5.
Yosano was for most of her life a progressive and feminist figure; unfortunately, in the last ten or twelve years of her life she veered sharply to the right. She died strongly supportive of Japan’s war aims in the Pacific Theater of World War II. I do not condone her views from this late period or the writing that she produced based on those views; a future upload will include my translations of an early antiwar poem and a late pro-war poem so that readers of English can see for themselves both the changes in Yosano’s beliefs and the decay of her poetic powers. However, the poems in Bara to Hanako (薔薇と華子 in prewar orthography) predate all that. The collection appears in volume 6 of her 2007 Complete Works (全集 zenshū); the poems in it were composed around 1927.
To my knowledge, Bara to Hanako has never had a translation published before and is in the public domain in Japan, whose copyright regime is the lifetime of the author plus seventy years. I’m electing to put these translations under a Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike license. Anybody may copy, distribute, display, perform, and make derivative works and remixes based on these translations only if they attribute the translation to both Yosano Akiko and me. Anybody may distribute derivative works under a license not more restrictive than this license.
Roses and Hanako
The rose blossoms in Hanako’s garden,
because they are roses that Hanako planted
bloom looking just like her.
Their color is the color in Hanako’s cheeks,
the blossoms are in Hanako’s lips,
looking just like her, rose blossoms.
The rose blossoms in Hanako’s garden,
when the roses are pretty, if the sun too
scatters down its golden oil,
when the roses are pretty, a zephyr of air
comes to clothe them with the gauzy silk
in waves that cannot be seen by the eye.
In keeping with Hanako’s singing-day
the roses too take fragrant breaths
piping their voices like Hanako,
and in keeping with Hanako’s dancing-day
the roses too gently shake their forms
swaying like Hanako.
And on days when Hanako is out
they cover the eyes in which tears have welled,
those motionless downcast rose blossoms.
The meekness of the roses’ hearts,
this too is just like Hanako.
The rose blossoms in Hanako’s garden.
❦
Aeroplane
There, there, the passing aeroplane,
today too oblique to the city,
quavers with its wind-cutting sound,
with nimble carriage, way up on high
the fine form with outspread wings.
Put an opera glass to your eye,
and if you lift your eyes to the young passengers
who with thick stomachs took to the roads in the sky,
from the somewhat twisted fuselage,
sparkling golden reflections shine brilliantly.
The naïveté of the young passengers,
forsaking the hindmost, forgetting death,
not stopping for an instant, becoming
a new power they go flying on.
Forward, to the future, at full speed.
❦
Autumn is Come
Cool, cool, autumn is come,
Hanako’s beloved autumn is come.
The sky, of course, and the colors of the sun
and the water and the air and the blowing wind
neatly arrayed, clear up altogether.
Still more if it is a quiet night
little Hanako sits and reads
interesting fairy tales, and beside her
are the moon’s chilly golden color
and the insects’ dingdong ringing voices.
As thought up by little Hanako,
as when amidst the bamboo the beautiful
Princess Kaguya was found,
it is just that kind of an autumn day.
Cool, cool, autumn is come.