Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Takako Arai

Give Us Morning

Morning is the time we count the dead
In the newspapers, in the hospitals, on the roads, on the seashores
In the rubble that was once our homes
Possess us all the more, Amenouzume-san
The morning is still not enough
We still cannot count them all
We still cannot carry them all
Dance more for us, Amenouzume-san
Put a green twig in your hair
And call out to them
Give the dead
To morning
Possess them, call out to them

It’s me, the girl floating here this whole time
It’s me, Mama’s boy crouched down
It’s me, the boy with the right arm wrenched off
I want to see you again, I want to see you again
A bullet to the temple
I scratch my throat, it hurts
Now I’m sinking as far as I can go
Why?  Why was I the boy
Blown aside by the bomb blast?
The fingers of flame came in no time
I struggle but there’s only sand, I struggle but there’s only sand
One lung was crushed by the ceiling
Left alone like this, where will I float?
I wait for an extended hand
Here I am, here I am
I want to escape this blood-bathed school
With my girlish eyes still open wide
I know this is my last breath
I am fed up with the roar of the bombs
The sea has raised its clenched fist


Morning is the time we count the dead
On the TV news, in the embassies, in the community centers
In the rubble that was once our buildings and our mosques
Possess us all the more, Amenouzume-san
The morning is still not enough
The morning is still not enough
The morning is still not enough
Dance for us all the more, Amenouzume-san
Claw the milk from your breast, shake your hair wildly
Pound your feet on the ground
And dance
Spin your arms round, shake off your sweat
Bend back your neck
And dance, dance
More
More
Sway your spine, lift your legs
Shake your hips
More
More
Set your womanly shadow on fire
Open your womanly shadow
And call for them
And dance for them
And possess them
And gather
The dead
To the shadow

Give them to morning
Give us morning
The time we count the corpses

GUN ONS DE OCHTEND

de ochtend is wanneer we de doden tellen
in de krant, in de ziekenhuizen, op straat, langs de kust,
onder het puin van wat ooit een huis moet zijn geweest,
word nog vaardiger over ons, o Ama-no-uzume
de ochtend is nog lang niet genoeg
we kunnen hen nog lang niet allemaal tellen
we kunnen hen nog lang niet allemaal dragen
dans nog meer voor ons, o Ama-no-uzume
steek in uw haar een groene twijg
en roep hen tot u
de doden
gun hen aan de ochtend
wordt vaardig over hen en roep hen tot u

 

ik ben het, het meisje dat hier al die tijd, al dreef
neergehurkt, ik, mamma’s, joch
ik ben het, de kerel met zijn afgerukte, rechterarm
ik wil je zien! ik wil je zien!
in mijn slaap, één kogel
ik krab me, aan mijn keel, het doet zo’n pijn
nu ben ik al, aan het zinken, zover als ik kan
waarom toch, waarom dan, ben ik het
die weggeblazen wordt, door de drukgolf
in een oogwenk, kwamen de vingers, van de vlammen
hoe ik ook worstel: aarde en zand, hoe ik ook worstel: aarde en zand
door het plafond, is een long, kapotgemaakt
zo aan mijn lot overgelaten, tot hoever, zal ik afdrijven
op een uitgestrekte, hand, zit ik te wachten
hier is het, dat ik ben, hier is het
de met bloed besmeurde, school, die wil ik ontvluchten
met mijn, ogen, open
mijn laatste, adem is dit, besef ik, echt
van ontploffingen, heb ik nu wel, mijn buik helemaal vol
de zee, heeft haar vuisten, geheven

 

de ochtend is wanneer we de doden tellen
op het nieuws, op de ambassades, in de buurthuizen,
onder het puin van wat ooit een gebouw of een moskee moet zijn geweest,
word nog vaardiger over ons, o Ama-no-uzume
de ochtend is nog lang niet genoeg
de ochtend is nog lang niet genoeg
de ochtend is nog lang niet genoeg
dans nog meer voor ons, o Ama-no-uzume
hoos uw borsten leeg, schud uw haren door de war,
stamp uw voeten
dans!
zwaai met uw armen, strooi uw zweet in het rond,
buig uw nek alle kanten op,
dans, dans
nog meer,
nog meer,
laat uw rug rillen, hef uw benen op,
laat uw heupen draaien,
nog meer,
nog meer,
zet uw venusheuvel in brand,
open uw venusheuvel,
roep hen tot u
dans voor hen
word nog vaardiger over hen,
verzamel hen
de doden,
in uw schaamdeel

gun hen aan de ochtend
gun ons de ochtend
het is wanneer we de doden tellen

朝をください

朝は、死体を数える時間です
新聞で、病院で、路上で、海辺で、家だったはずの瓦礫の下で、
もっと神憑かりしてよ、アメノウズメさん
まだまだ朝が足りません
まだまだ数えきれません
まだまだ運びきれません
もっと踊ってよ、アメノウズメさん
髪に緑の枝さして、
呼んでください
死んだ人を、
朝にください
神憑かりして呼んでください

ズット、浮カンデイル、アタシデス
踞マッタ、ママノ、オイラサ
ボクデス、右腕ガ、モゲタノハ
会イタイ、ヨ、会イタイ、ヨ
コメカミニ、一発ノタマ
掻イテ、喉ヲ、苦シンデ
今ハモウ、沈ンデ、イクダケ
ドーシテ、ナンデ、オレナンダ
吹ッ飛バサレル、爆風ニ
アットイウ間ノ、火ノ、手ガ、クル
モガイテモ土砂、モガイテモ土砂
天井ニ、片肺ヲ、潰サレテ
コノママ、ドコマデ、漂ウノダロ
差シ伸ベル、手ヲ、待ッテイテ
ココデス、ワタシハ、ココデス
血ミドロノ、学校カラ、逃ゲタクテ
アタシノ、瞳ハ、開イタママ
最後ノ、息ダト、自分デ、ワカル
爆音ニハ、モウ、飽キテイル
海ガ、拳ヲ、上ゲタンダ

朝は、死体を数える時間です
ニュースで、大使館で、公民館で、ビルやモスクだったはずの瓦礫の下で、
もっと神憑かりしてよ、アメノウズメさん
まだまだ朝が足りません
まだまだ朝が足りません
まだまだ朝が足りません
もっと踊ってよ、アメノウズメさん
胸乳(むなち)をかき出し、髪ふり乱し、
踏みとどろかし、
踊ってよ
腕ふり回し、汗かき散らし、
首しならせて、
踊って、踊って
もっと、
もっと、
背を揺らし、脚ふり上げ、
腰うねらせて、
もっと、
もっと、
女陰を燃やし、
女陰を開き、
呼んでください
踊ってください
神憑かりして、
集めてください
死んだ人たち、
その陰(ほと)へ

朝にください
朝をください
死体を数える時間です

Close

Give Us Morning

Morning is the time we count the dead
In the newspapers, in the hospitals, on the roads, on the seashores
In the rubble that was once our homes
Possess us all the more, Amenouzume-san
The morning is still not enough
We still cannot count them all
We still cannot carry them all
Dance more for us, Amenouzume-san
Put a green twig in your hair
And call out to them
Give the dead
To morning
Possess them, call out to them

It’s me, the girl floating here this whole time
It’s me, Mama’s boy crouched down
It’s me, the boy with the right arm wrenched off
I want to see you again, I want to see you again
A bullet to the temple
I scratch my throat, it hurts
Now I’m sinking as far as I can go
Why?  Why was I the boy
Blown aside by the bomb blast?
The fingers of flame came in no time
I struggle but there’s only sand, I struggle but there’s only sand
One lung was crushed by the ceiling
Left alone like this, where will I float?
I wait for an extended hand
Here I am, here I am
I want to escape this blood-bathed school
With my girlish eyes still open wide
I know this is my last breath
I am fed up with the roar of the bombs
The sea has raised its clenched fist


Morning is the time we count the dead
On the TV news, in the embassies, in the community centers
In the rubble that was once our buildings and our mosques
Possess us all the more, Amenouzume-san
The morning is still not enough
The morning is still not enough
The morning is still not enough
Dance for us all the more, Amenouzume-san
Claw the milk from your breast, shake your hair wildly
Pound your feet on the ground
And dance
Spin your arms round, shake off your sweat
Bend back your neck
And dance, dance
More
More
Sway your spine, lift your legs
Shake your hips
More
More
Set your womanly shadow on fire
Open your womanly shadow
And call for them
And dance for them
And possess them
And gather
The dead
To the shadow

Give them to morning
Give us morning
The time we count the corpses

Give Us Morning

Morning is the time we count the dead
In the newspapers, in the hospitals, on the roads, on the seashores
In the rubble that was once our homes
Possess us all the more, Amenouzume-san
The morning is still not enough
We still cannot count them all
We still cannot carry them all
Dance more for us, Amenouzume-san
Put a green twig in your hair
And call out to them
Give the dead
To morning
Possess them, call out to them

It’s me, the girl floating here this whole time
It’s me, Mama’s boy crouched down
It’s me, the boy with the right arm wrenched off
I want to see you again, I want to see you again
A bullet to the temple
I scratch my throat, it hurts
Now I’m sinking as far as I can go
Why?  Why was I the boy
Blown aside by the bomb blast?
The fingers of flame came in no time
I struggle but there’s only sand, I struggle but there’s only sand
One lung was crushed by the ceiling
Left alone like this, where will I float?
I wait for an extended hand
Here I am, here I am
I want to escape this blood-bathed school
With my girlish eyes still open wide
I know this is my last breath
I am fed up with the roar of the bombs
The sea has raised its clenched fist


Morning is the time we count the dead
On the TV news, in the embassies, in the community centers
In the rubble that was once our buildings and our mosques
Possess us all the more, Amenouzume-san
The morning is still not enough
The morning is still not enough
The morning is still not enough
Dance for us all the more, Amenouzume-san
Claw the milk from your breast, shake your hair wildly
Pound your feet on the ground
And dance
Spin your arms round, shake off your sweat
Bend back your neck
And dance, dance
More
More
Sway your spine, lift your legs
Shake your hips
More
More
Set your womanly shadow on fire
Open your womanly shadow
And call for them
And dance for them
And possess them
And gather
The dead
To the shadow

Give them to morning
Give us morning
The time we count the corpses

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
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