Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Hiromi Itō

NASTY MORNING

More than through skin, more than through sex
Unease is something that becomes clear through language
Something that makes me particular
There were no accentual modulations in that language
Surrounded by accentless speakers
I couldn’t carry on a conversation
I was illiterate too
I abhorred written language
Their accentless addresses frightened me
Didn’t feel directed toward me
If I answered, my language
Sounded ugly, sounded deformed
I could not erase that
When I catch the delicate nuances of accent
In the language he learned in a land far away
I wanted to wash it all away
Language spoken aloud is all mine
Knowledge
Emotions
Time, things we eat
Even if under the influence of others
Even if under the control of others
Even if the language he writes is understood only by others far away
The language that enters my ears, comes out my mouth
And disappears is all my own
Something I want to claim
Even if wet with my saliva
As I scrub him late at night
I imagine washing all that accentless language
From his skin of his freckled back

Dee suiiteshita retoru omen (the sweetest little woman)
He taught me this once
De suiiteshita meen (the sweetest man)
I imitated him
Parroted language
One breath, then another
He was a strange frog, a cricket
Pronouncing with ease
But first he taught me
Nashite mounen (nasty morning)
Next ae habu eten purente (I have eaten plenty)
Next ae an nata hangure (I am not hungry)
Next yu aara nata hangure (you are not hungry)
I touched his language that day for the first time
When I did
I was jealous of language
With it he is connected to the world outside
He writes, people read, that remains
But just then, he spoke to me in his language that remains
Just like my language
His is voiced then disappears
Even if relationships disappear there
Even if memory disappears there
This language, voiced and disappearing, is suiito
I wanted to study and understand his language
Even if only like those boys
It makes me sigh with regret
Still, the words I spoke made him crazy
He said he thought about them for ages
My language threatened
The freckles on his back
They moved, they squirmed
For his thick arms, how light
I must have been, like an imp or fairy
My language percolated through his voice then became free
Taking on the heat and scent of his body
It coiled around me then disappeared
Through language
He dug into me
Searched for me
So heavy from the imps and fairies settled there
Searching out
And finding
My skin
My lips

NASTY MORNING


Ontoereikendheid wordt meer nog dan door huid, meer nog dan door seks,
duidelijk gemaakt door taal en maakt mij tot een bijzonder geval,
hun taal was eentonig,
omringd door eentonige sprekers kon ik
geen conversatie gaande houden,
daarbij was ik analfabeet,
ik verafschuwde het geschreven woord,
te moeten antwoorden wanneer ik eentonig werd aangesproken was me een verschrikking,
ik was niet in staat me aangesproken te voelen
en als ik dan toch antwoordde, klonk mijn taal
afzichtelijk, misvormd,
dat kan ik niet uitvlakken,
wanneer ik in de taal die hij zo ver weg leerde
iets van een toon bespeurde, voelde ik
de behoefte dat weg te spoelen,
taal die uitgesproken wordt is helemaal van mij
kennis,
emoties,
tijd en voedsel,
zelfs onder de invloed van die mensen van ver weg
zelfs onder de zeggenschap van mensen van ver weg
zelfs al wordt de taal die hij schrijft alleen opgepikt door die mensen,
dan nog is de taal die door het oor binnen en door de mond naar buiten komt
en zo verdwijnt, van mij,
mijn taal die ik met speeksel bevochtig en benadrukken wil
terwijl ik ’s nachts zijn rug boen
en vanaf zijn huid waarop sproeten drijven
bid ik dat die zogenaamde eentonige taal weggewassen wordt
 
dei suiiteshita retoru omen (the sweetest little woman),
zo leerde hij mij ooit,
dei suiitesuta maan (the sweetest man)
zo bauwde ik hem na,
nageprate talen,
adem, adem,
hij leek een vreemde kikker, hij leek een krekel,
met probleemloze uitspraak,
zijn allereerste klanken
waren nashite mônen (nasty morning)
en toen ae habu eten purente (I have eaten plenty)
en toen ae an nata hangure (I am not hungry)
en toen yû âra nata hangure (you are not hungry)
die dag raakte ik voor het eerst in zijn taal aan,
en toen ik haar aanraakte,
voelde ik jaloezie,
door deze taal is hij verbonden met een buitenwereld,
hij schrijft, mensen lezen, dat blijft,
maar zojuist sprak hij me aan in die taal die blijft,
de taal komt uit zijn mond en verdwijnt, precies als met mijn taal,
de verdwijnende taal is sueito,
zelfs als ons verband daar verdwijnt,
zelfs als zijn herinnering daar verdwijnt,
dan nog is de taal die uit zijn mond komt en verdwijnt geweldig sueito,
ik wilde die beter leren, wilde tenminste net zoals die jongens,
zijn taal leren begrijpen,
spijt deed me zuchten,
toch maakte de taal die ik uitsprak hem gek,
hij zei dat hij daar de hele tijd aan dacht,
de sproeten op zijn rug
moeten dansen op mijn taal, bewegen, bewegen,
hoe licht moet ik zijn
voor zijn stevige arm, als een duiveltje of elfje,
mijn taal wordt gefilterd door zijn stem en raakt vrij,
verandert in de warmte en de geur van zijn lichaam,
kronkelt om me heen, verdwijnt,
met zijn taal graaft hij mijn bestaan op, telkens weer,
mij, zwaar doordat er duiveltjes en elfjes zijn gaan wonen,
mijn huid en lippen
zoekt hij op,
vindt hij

Close

NASTY MORNING

More than through skin, more than through sex
Unease is something that becomes clear through language
Something that makes me particular
There were no accentual modulations in that language
Surrounded by accentless speakers
I couldn’t carry on a conversation
I was illiterate too
I abhorred written language
Their accentless addresses frightened me
Didn’t feel directed toward me
If I answered, my language
Sounded ugly, sounded deformed
I could not erase that
When I catch the delicate nuances of accent
In the language he learned in a land far away
I wanted to wash it all away
Language spoken aloud is all mine
Knowledge
Emotions
Time, things we eat
Even if under the influence of others
Even if under the control of others
Even if the language he writes is understood only by others far away
The language that enters my ears, comes out my mouth
And disappears is all my own
Something I want to claim
Even if wet with my saliva
As I scrub him late at night
I imagine washing all that accentless language
From his skin of his freckled back

Dee suiiteshita retoru omen (the sweetest little woman)
He taught me this once
De suiiteshita meen (the sweetest man)
I imitated him
Parroted language
One breath, then another
He was a strange frog, a cricket
Pronouncing with ease
But first he taught me
Nashite mounen (nasty morning)
Next ae habu eten purente (I have eaten plenty)
Next ae an nata hangure (I am not hungry)
Next yu aara nata hangure (you are not hungry)
I touched his language that day for the first time
When I did
I was jealous of language
With it he is connected to the world outside
He writes, people read, that remains
But just then, he spoke to me in his language that remains
Just like my language
His is voiced then disappears
Even if relationships disappear there
Even if memory disappears there
This language, voiced and disappearing, is suiito
I wanted to study and understand his language
Even if only like those boys
It makes me sigh with regret
Still, the words I spoke made him crazy
He said he thought about them for ages
My language threatened
The freckles on his back
They moved, they squirmed
For his thick arms, how light
I must have been, like an imp or fairy
My language percolated through his voice then became free
Taking on the heat and scent of his body
It coiled around me then disappeared
Through language
He dug into me
Searched for me
So heavy from the imps and fairies settled there
Searching out
And finding
My skin
My lips

NASTY MORNING

More than through skin, more than through sex
Unease is something that becomes clear through language
Something that makes me particular
There were no accentual modulations in that language
Surrounded by accentless speakers
I couldn’t carry on a conversation
I was illiterate too
I abhorred written language
Their accentless addresses frightened me
Didn’t feel directed toward me
If I answered, my language
Sounded ugly, sounded deformed
I could not erase that
When I catch the delicate nuances of accent
In the language he learned in a land far away
I wanted to wash it all away
Language spoken aloud is all mine
Knowledge
Emotions
Time, things we eat
Even if under the influence of others
Even if under the control of others
Even if the language he writes is understood only by others far away
The language that enters my ears, comes out my mouth
And disappears is all my own
Something I want to claim
Even if wet with my saliva
As I scrub him late at night
I imagine washing all that accentless language
From his skin of his freckled back

Dee suiiteshita retoru omen (the sweetest little woman)
He taught me this once
De suiiteshita meen (the sweetest man)
I imitated him
Parroted language
One breath, then another
He was a strange frog, a cricket
Pronouncing with ease
But first he taught me
Nashite mounen (nasty morning)
Next ae habu eten purente (I have eaten plenty)
Next ae an nata hangure (I am not hungry)
Next yu aara nata hangure (you are not hungry)
I touched his language that day for the first time
When I did
I was jealous of language
With it he is connected to the world outside
He writes, people read, that remains
But just then, he spoke to me in his language that remains
Just like my language
His is voiced then disappears
Even if relationships disappear there
Even if memory disappears there
This language, voiced and disappearing, is suiito
I wanted to study and understand his language
Even if only like those boys
It makes me sigh with regret
Still, the words I spoke made him crazy
He said he thought about them for ages
My language threatened
The freckles on his back
They moved, they squirmed
For his thick arms, how light
I must have been, like an imp or fairy
My language percolated through his voice then became free
Taking on the heat and scent of his body
It coiled around me then disappeared
Through language
He dug into me
Searched for me
So heavy from the imps and fairies settled there
Searching out
And finding
My skin
My lips
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