shinsen 21 - Rr

Shinsen 21
(a sampling)
edited by
Bansei Tsukushi
Yasuko Tsushima
Leona Takayama
&
You-shorin
(Nagano, Japan, December 2009)
selected & translated
by Fay Aoyagi
Shinsen 21 (New Selection 21) is a new haiku anthology featuring 21
Japanese poets who are all under 40 years of age (born after 1968),
and who did not publish his/her first haiku collection, or win any
haiku awards, before the year 2000, thus showcasing voices of the
21st century. The anthology features a selection of 100 haiku by
each poet; each selection is then followed by a short essay by someone under 45 years of age. The anthology concludes with a roundtable discussion that includes three of the editors and haiku poet
Minoru Ozawa (born in 1956, and winner of the 2005 Yomiuri
Prize for Literature [Haiku/Poetry]).
The following sample of the anthology was selected and translated
by Fay Aoyagi and originally presented on her blog, Blue Willow
Haiku World <http://fayaoyagi.wordpress.com/>. For this special
presentation, some of the translations have been revised and a few
new ones added.
Special thanks to
You-shorin Publishing Company,
the editors,
& especially the poets
of Shinsen 21
for granting Roadrunner permission
to republish this work in English
Copyright © 2010. All rights reserved by the respective authors.
むかしには黄色い凧を浮かべたる 鴇田智哉
mukashi niwa ki’iroi tako o ukabetaru
for the past
I let a yellow kite
float
Tomoya Tokita
空のすぐうしろに咳の聞えたる 鴇田智哉
sora no sugu ushiro ni seki no kikoetaru
right behind the sky
I hear someone
coughing
Tomoya Tokita
鳴り出して電話になりぬ春の闇 山口優夢
Yuumu Yamaguchi
naridashite denwa ni narinu haru no yami
spring darkness starts to ring
and becomes
a telephone call
蝋燭を蝋燭立てに置く手套 山口優夢
Yuumu Yamaguchi
rôsoku o rôsoku-tate ni oku shutô
a gloved hand
placing a candle
in the candle stand
気絶して千年凍る鯨かな 冨田拓也
Takuya Tomita
kizetsu shite sen’nen kôru kujira kana
fainted
a whale freezes
for one thousand years
卵てふ億年の闇冬灯 冨田拓也
tamago chô okunen no yami fuyu-tomoshi
an egg is the darkness
of one hundred million years—
a winter light
Takuya Tomita
白骨の反りと冬虹と揺らげよ 九堂夜想
hakkotsu no sori to fuyu-niji to yurageyo
arched white bones
and a winter rainbow
sway!
Yasou Kudou
冬すみれ人は小さき火を運ぶ 田中亜美
Ami Tanaka
fuyu-sumire hito wa chiisaki hi o hakobu
winter violet
she carries
a tiny fire
歩きだす椅子歩き出さない冬の猫 中村安伸
Yasunobu Nakamura
arukidasu isu arukidasanai fuyu no neko
a chair starts to walk
a winter cat does not
start to walk
寂しさも僕の衛星冬の蠅 豊里友行
Tomoyuki Toyozato
sabishisa mo boku no eisei fuyu no hae
loneliness too
is my satellite—
a winter fly
雪らしい生理が遅れてゐるらしい 北大路 翼
Tsubasa Kitaohji
yuki rashii seiri ga okurete iru rashii
I hear snow will fall
I hear her period
is late
木枯しの壊しては組む星座かな 村上鞆彦
kogarashi no kowashitewa kumu seiza kana
a winter gust
demolishes and constructs
the constellation
Tomohiko Murakami
ことごとく未踏なりけり冬の星 髙柳克弘
Katsuhiro Takayanagi
kotogotoku mitô narikeri fuyu no hoshi
none of them
have been landed on—
winter stars
めくれつつ雑誌燃えゐる焚火かな 中本真人
mekuretsutsu zasshi moeiru takibi kana
its pages turning over
a magazine burns
in the bonfire
Masato Nakamoto
梟やいずれの道も帰路ならず 神野紗希
fukurô ya izureno michi mo kiro narazu
an owl—
every road is not a road
to home
Saki Kouno
太古より仲間集まる日向ぼこ 外山一機
Kazuki Toyama
taiko yori nakama atsumaru hinataboko
from prehistoric times
my buddies gather to bathe
in the winter sun
洞ひとつ抱へてをりぬ冬桜 谷 雄介
hora hitotsu kakaeteorinu fuyu-zakura
it’s carrying
a hollow
winter cherry tree
Yusuke Tani
牡蠣噛めば窓なき部屋のごときかな 佐藤文香
kaki kameba mado naki heya no gotoki kana
chewing an oyster
it’s like a room
without windows
Ayaka Sato
時計から時間生るる冬の蝶 越智友亮
tokei kara jikan umaruru fuyu no chô
time is born
from the clock—
a winter butterfly
Yusuke Ochi
滝壺に届かざるまま凍りけり 五十嵐義知
takitsubo ni todokazaru mama kôrikeri
its shape
before reaching the bottom
a frozen waterfall
Yoshitomo Igarashi
薄氷の割れて人魚の鱗かな 矢野玲奈
usurai no warete ningyo no uroko kana
thinning ice
broken . . . and
a mermaid’s scale
Reina Yano
秋風や汝の臍に何植ゑん 藤田哲史 akikaze ya nanji no hozo ni nani uen autumn wind—
what I should plant
in your belly button Satoshi Fujita
紐あれば結界となる秋の暮
藤田哲史
Satoshi Fujita
himo areba kekkai to naru aki no kure a string will mark
a boundary of the sacred place
autumn dusk 東京といふ語は光る羽蟻の夜 相子智恵
Chie Aiko
tôkyô to iu go wa hikaru ha’ari no yo the word “Tokyo”
shines
a night of winged ants 火星にも水や蚕の糸吐く夜
相子智恵
Chie Aiko
kasei nimo mizu ya kaiko no ito haku yo Mars, too, has water—
a night when silkworms
spit out strings
眞青ナル文盲ノ魚飛ビ交ヘリ 関 悦史
masao naru monmô no uo tobikaeri blue
illiterate fish
flying around Etsushi Seki
蟻のよるグランドピアノたる私
関 悦史
ari no yoru gurando piano taru watakushi ants gather
at a grand piano
which is me Etsushi Seki
まだ夢を見てゐる牡蠣を食ひにけり
関 悦史
Etsushi Seki
mada yume o miteiru kaki o kuinikeri I eat an oyster
it is still
dreaming