Monday, April 3, 2023

One Man's Maple Moon: Winter Axe Tanka by Shuji Terayama

English Original

let’s sever
my stinky blood relationship --
the winter axe is placed
upside down
in a sunny spot 

Kaleidoscope, 2007 

Shuji Terayama


Chinese Translation (Traditional)

讓我們切斷
我那發臭的血緣關係 --
一把冬季的斧頭
倒掛
在陽光照耀之處

Chinese Translation (Simplified)

让我们切断
我那发臭的血缘关系 --
一把冬季的斧头
倒挂
在阳光照耀之处
 
 
Bio Sketch

The avant-garde stage and film director, poet, critic, author and founder of the experimental theater group Tenjo Sajiki, Shuji Terayama was born in 1935 in Aomori, Japan. He started writing tanka in his late teens and received the Tanka Kenkyu Award for Emerging Poets. He published several tanka collections before he stopped writing at the age of 30. Many of his tanka read more like scenes from a movie scene or short story. He died in 1983. The first English language collection of his tanka, Kaleidoscope, was published by The Hokuseido Press in 2008 to commemorate the 25th anniversary of  his death.

1 comment:

  1. This is a symbolically rich and visually and emotionally contrasting example of Shuji's "confessional fiction" tanka.

    By “fiction of possibility," Terayama seems to claim the potential of fiction to create a legitimate reality.
    -- Steven Ridgely

    Terayama’s tanka are unique in that they are based mainly on his imagination, which is often colored by his complex feelings of being "abandoned" by his mother, and that they are interwoven with cultural memory, personal mythology, and the emotions he experienced in his dysfunctional life and inner turmoil.

    withering
    the sunflowers still
    in offering
    at my father’s tomb --
    it’s shorter than I

    a man, who knows
    my dead father’s
    shoe size,
    came to see me one day
    ... nightmare

    fixed
    with my cold gunshot
    a sparrow on the roof
    might be
    my mother

    coming alone
    to the sold rice field
    on a winter night
    I'm burying
    my mother's scarlet comb

    I gently comb
    the turtledove
    with my dead mother's
    scarlet comb --
    its down keeps falling out

    this wind
    carrying carrot seeds
    connects
    the orphan,
    sunset, and me

    birds banished
    from the sky,
    time, beasts
    all collected here
    in my arc-like toy box

    in order to sew up
    the horizon
    my sister hid
    a silk needle
    in the sewing box

    while an ant
    toiled from the dahlia
    to the ash tray
    I was forming
    a beautiful lie

    -- excerpted from To the Lighthouse: Shuji Terayama's Tanka Poetics, "Fiction of Possibility," accessed at http://neverendingstoryhaikutanka.blogspot.com/2016/06/to-lighthouse-terayama-shujis-tanka.html

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