miyazawa kenji

untitled

neither yielding to rain
nor yielding to wind
yielding neither to
snow nor to summer heat
with a stout body
like thatwithout greed
never getting angry
always smiling quiet-
ly
eating one and a half pints of brown rice
and bean paste and a bit of
vegetables a day
in everything
not taking oneself
into account
looking listening understanding well
and not forgetting
living in the shadow of pine trees in a field
in a smallhut thatched with miscanthus
if in the east there's a
sick child
going and nursinghim
if in the west there's a tired mother
going and carrying
for her
bundles of rice
if in the south
there's someone
dying
goingand saying
you don't have to be
afraid
if in the north
there's a quarrel
or a lawsuit
saying it's not worth it
stop it
in a drought
shedding tears
in a cold summer
pacing back and forth lost
calleda good-for-nothing
by everyone
neither praised
nor thought a pain
someone
like that
is what I want
to be.

trans unknown

you can hear it in the original and see a different translation here

Miyazawa Kenji

Flood

Under the malicious glints of the clouds
the Kitakami, grown twice in width, perhaps ten times in volume,
bears yellow waves.
All the iron barges are being tugged to the army camp.
A motorboat sputters.
The water flowing back from downstream
has already turned into marshes
the paddies on the dried riverbed,
hidden the bean fields,
and devastated half the mulberries.
Gleaming like a snail's trail
it has made an island of the grass patch under the pines
and of the Chinese cabbage fields.
When and how they got there I don’t know
but on the warm frightening beach
several dark figures stand, afloat.
One holds a fishnet.
I recognize Hosuke in leggings.
Has the water already
robbed us of our autumn food?
I climb the roof to look.
I hauled the manure bundles to a high place.
As for the plows and baskets
I went in the water a few minutes ago, up to my waist,
and managed to retrieve them.


trans by hiroaki sato