Hibakusha被爆者
Shöwa era. Hiroshima 1944
The ink has dried
We are bound, you and I,
In blue water colours.
I reflect on when
You last played with my hair.
Dec 25
The snow is unspoilt
Along the path to Mitaki-dera.
You never visit anymore.
One year older then,
Too old to see Kami.
Dec 26
I do not like the look
Of this winter crow.
Do you find me to your liking?
No ochazuke for you!
Unless, it's taken from my mouth.
Dec 27
You blame me
For not lying with you.
All is fair!
It's too early
For cherry blossoms.
Dec 28
Ten thousand Nakajima,
Dragonflies skimming the sea.
How do you live
With your divine wind?
Did Hokusai paint these waves?
Dec 29
A widow smells my hair,
To satisfy her curiosity.
How rare a moment,
To notice her sigh,
While she undresses me.
Dec 30
Being capricious,
I perform a piece of Kabuki
At the year-end party.
Spirit me away, my darling!
I'm blushing, does it show?
Dec 31
Shöwa era. Hiroshima 1945
It is as the black rain
would have me tell it.
Fire stole away poor Chō.
Her beauty was not without
A sense of grandeur.
Jan 1
Yesterday,
A chill overcame me
And ash got everywhere.
Winter crow is impatient
To gouge out my eyes.
Jan 2
I am
Cherry blossom.
Not to be mistaken
For plum blossom.
YOU ARE READING
Hibakusha
PoetryThe poems of Heian no Seiyama. Further collections will be added each month.