Salad Anniversary

Machi Tawara, Juliet Winters Carpenter

• Éditeur: Pushkin Press
• Année: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781782271055
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: Poetry

An exquisite collection of Japanese poetry

This internationally bestselling book took the world by storm on its publication. Covering the discovery of new love, first heartache and the end of an affair, these poems mix the ancient grace and musicality of the tanka form with a modern insight and wit. With a light, fresh touch and a cool eye, Machi Tawara celebrates the small events in a life fully lived and one that is wonderfully touched by humour and beauty. This book will stay with you through the day, and long after you have finished it.

Baseball Game

Wrapped in a green sweater

as though folded deep in your arms—

winter comes on

On a Sunday morning

fragrant with navel oranges,

I boil two eggs to perfection

I check my tear-stained reflection,

remembering that you said

“Stay beautiful”

More than dozens of words of love,

one chill word

preoccupies me

Knight in leather jacket

astride your motorcycle,

for you let the sunset blaze!

Underline the words

hard enough to tear the page—

“to love and not have faith”

Eating takeout sushi with you,

only 300 yen—

tastes so good I know I’m in love

Shielded by you in a crowded train,

I gaze up close

at fine down on your face

Every time I look at the public bath wall,

three of them lined up for sale—

“ear-cleaning sets”

With you, for better or worse,

even when I’m gargling

I feel like a woman

Longing to see

the ocean in December,

we board the Romance Express

A day playing at Enoshima Beach—

you have your future, I mine,

and so we take no snapshots

Grieve with me—

the sureness of your touch

catching Frisbees

is missing in this romance

Throwing stones in the waves,

he never looks my way—

young man wild like the sea

I cherish the bit of crimson

staining your finger

as you open a raw oyster for me

Skeptical of promises,

you don’t even bother

to build your castle away from the waves

“Machi-chan”—

I like the moment he hesitates

before using my pet name

The smell of you dances on the salt breeze

and in your arms

I turn into a seashell

“Marry me,”

after two canned cocktails—

are you sure you want to say that?

Head cradled in my lap like a child,

lonely vagabond

you breathe quietly, asleep

Five-thirty p.m.—

you and I walk on sand, kissing

under the eye of Mt. Fuji

“I was born to run,” you say—

for you who have no hometown

I want to become the sea

“I’m going to go feel the winter waves,”

I say, and walk away—

unable to meet your gaze on the beach

Unable to accept this lov...