英 語 対 訳
Masahiro Kudo
Won't Get Sick from Rain
I have a healthy and strong body,
which won't get sick from rain,
which won't get damaged by wind,
snow in winter or heat in summer.
I am a person free of desires.
I never lose my temper,
and always smile gently.
I eat four cups of brown rice, miso
and some vegetables in a day.
I think about everything without caring about myself.
I enlarge my experience, understand it,
and never forget it.
I live in a thatch-roof hut
in the shade of the pine woods in the field.
If I hear of a sick child in the east,
I'll go to nurse him.
If I hear of a tired mother in the west,
I'll help her carry bundles of rice plants.
If I hear of the dying person in the south,
I'll say, 'Don't be afraid'.
If I hear of a quarrel or a lawsuit in the north,
I'll say, 'Stop it since it isn't worth it'.
I'll shed tears in the drought.
I'll be confused and wandering around in the cool summer.
Everybody calls me 'You good-for-nothing'.
They don't speak well of me nor blame me.
Such a person I wish to be. (2011.5.1)
そういうものに、私はなりたい (賢治)
The Restaurant That Has Many Orders -WILDCAT HOUSEOne day in winter, two young men in modern British-soldier-like uniforms were wandering about a deep mountain:
the rifles on their shoulders were shiny; the two dogs following with them were as big as polar bears.
"It's strange we've seen neither birds nor animals around here in the mountain. What I want to do is to shoot and
get any game. I'm really eager to do it," one said.
"I'd like to aim at a deer. The victim might turn around and then fall with a thud," the other said.
Soon they noticed that their guide, who was a real hunter, had gone. They'd gotten lost in the deep mountain.
More over, their dogs---polar-bear-like dogs---seemed to get dizzy: they growled, foamed at the mouth and
then died.
"It's a heavy loss for me," one complained, examining his dead dog's eyelids.
"For me, too," the other said, looking down at his lying dog.
The first man looked a bit pale, and said,
"It's eerie out here. I think I'd better go back."
"Yeah, I'm getting cold and hungry. Let's head back," the other man said.
The wind started blowing hard. The grass and the trees were humming and rustling here and there in the mountain.
"I'm getting hungry. I don't want to walk any more."
"Me, either. What I need is something hot to eat."
Then they looked back and noticed that there stood a big western style building not too far from them.
They found a signboard on the building:
"It's an ideal timing. Why not enter?"
"But a little strange, isn't it? A restaurant deep in the mountains! I wonder if they will serve us something to eat
here in this restaurant."
"Why not? The signboard says 'Restaurant'"
"Anyway, let's enter the building. I'm hungry enough to fall down."
They stood at the front door and saw a notice on it:
Anyone will be welcome. Feel free to come in.
They were so pleased to see it.
"Thank goodness! After the hard time we had been wandering around, we were able to find a restaurant that
would give us a good meal for free."
"You are right. 'Feel free' must be 'For free'"
They opened the door. On its back, there was another message:
The fat and the young will receive a warm welcome.
"We two are welcome guests."
"Yeah, we both are fat and young." They were much more pleased.
They walked along the corridor a little and stopped at a door painted blue.
"Don't you feel strange? Why do they need door after door in this restaurant?"
"This must be a Russian style. I heard that in that country, these kinds of houses are found in cold places or in
high mountains."
When they were about to open the blue door, they saw another notice on it.
Please understand this is a restaurant that has many orders.
"This style of restaurant must be popular in the mountains."
"It's true. A restaurant which serves a delicious dinner is not always in the center of the city."
Saying so, they opened the door.
Then again they found a notice on its back:
Be patient, as we have many orders.
"What on earth does it mean?" one frowned.
"It means that this restaurant has so many orders that they need much time to cook meals."
"Maybe it's true. Anyway, I want to enter the room where they serve us meals."
"I want to sit at a table as soon as possible."
But again another door was waiting for them. They saw a mirror hanging on it. Under the mirror was a brush with a
long handle. The notice on the door read:
Ladies and gentlemen, please brush your hair nicely and wipe the mud off your shoes.
"It's natural for customers to be neat and tidy."
"Good manners must be needed at this restaurant. Upper class people must be there."
They brushed their hair and cleaned their shoes.
As soon as the brush was put on the floor, it blurred and disappeared. A blast of wind roared into the room. They
were so frightened that they got close to each other, opened the door, and rushed into the room where they
expected to eat. But there weren't any tables or chairs. Again they found another door with a notice that said;
Put your rifles and bullets here on the table
"It's surely impolite to sit at a dinner table with rifles."
"Well, a great man must be there."
Next, there was a black door. Its notice said:
Take off your hats and shoes.
"I wonder why we should take them off."
"It can't be helped. Let's take them off. It is certain that there is the great man in the room."
They hung their hats and took off their shoes to enter the room.
At the back of the black door, another notice stated:
Put glasses, wallets, valuables, etc. into the safe.
Indeed there was a big and black safe, which was already open and had a key hung near the notice on the door.
"Certainly such items have nothing to do with a dinner table."
"Maybe we'll pay our bill here when we leave."
They took off their glasses and put everything valuable into the safe and locked it.
They walked and encountered one more door:
Apply the cream in the jar to your faces, arms and legs.
There was a glass jar in front of the door.
"What does it mean by applying cream?"
"It was very cold outside. Maybe it prevents against getting chaps in the warm room. There must be noblemen
there. We may get acquainted with them."
They applied the cream in the jar to their faces, arms and legs.
They hurriedly opened the door. Again there was a notice on the back of the door:
Don't forget to apply the cream to your ears.
"Oh, I forgot to do it. The master here pays attention to details."
"Anyway, I'm so hungry. When can we get to the dining room?"
They kept walking, and soon found another door's notice:
Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Put perfume on your hair.
They took a little golden perfume bottle which was in front of the door, and put perfume on their hair.
But it smelled like vinegar.
"Why does this perfume smell like vinegar?"
"Perhaps they mistook a perfume bottle for a bottle of vinegar."
They opened the door and found another notice on its back.
It's too bad we have many orders. This is the last order. Rub salt from the pot on all over your bodies
They found a pot filled with salt. They looked at each other dubiously,
"It sounds strange."
"You bet."
"They gave us many orders."
"In my opinion, they don't intend to serve us dinner but they want to eat someone trapped by them. It means that
They couldn't say any more and began trembling.
"We'd better run...away... "
They tried to open the door in vain, which they had opened a minute before.
The end of the corridor, they saw the last door and a notice:
You did very well. Don't hesitate to enter the room
Two big holes were on the last door, from which two blue eyes were staring at them.
"Oh!" one cried, trembling.
"Ah!" the other also cried, trembling all over with terror,
They heard someone whispering to other at the back of the door,
"They didn't rub the salt on their bodies."
"The boss's notice wasn't good enough. He shouldn't have written "It's too bad we have many orders'."
"The boss won't share food with us: he won't give us any, not even bones."
"But if the two men don't come in, the boss will surely scold us claiming it's our fault."
"Let's call them. Hey, gentlemen! Come in quickly. We are ready to serve the dishes. All we have to do is to mix
you with salted leaves and mayonnaise. Please come in quickly!"
The two men kept crying, shuddering from terror.
"Come on in! Don't cry so much. The cream on your faces will flow down. Our boss is waiting for you with a knife
in his hand, licking his lips."
They were at a loss at what to do in this desperate situation. Just when the door was broken and two big dogs
jumped into the room.
"Bow wow!" The dogs also jumped at the last door. The room suddenly darkened. There were terrible sounds on
the other side of the door. They heard an animal caterwauling and a scream as if someone were on the verge of
death. At that moment, the room disappeared like smoke and they found themselves standing in the field with two
polar-bare-like dogs.
"Are you all right, gentlemen?"
Seeing their guide hunter approaching them, the two gave a deep sigh of relief.(2009/02/01)
山 猫 亭
どなたでも歓迎 ご遠慮なく
太った方 若い方 大歓迎
当店は注文の多い料理店 ご理解を
注文が多いですが ご辛抱を
紳士淑女の皆さん 髪の毛はきちんと 靴の泥は落とすように
鉄砲と弾丸は この台の上に
眼鏡 財布 貴重品等は 金庫の中へ
壷の軟膏を 顔 腕 脚に塗ること
耳にも軟膏 忘れずに
食事はあと十五分 香水を髪の毛に
注文が多くて失礼 最後の注文 壷の塩を体全体に満遍なく
上出来 ご遠慮なくお入り下さい
Gauche the Cellist
Gauche was a cellist in the town orchestra. As he was the poorest player of all in the orchestra, he was always
being scolded by the conductor. They were practicing 'The Sixth Symphony' by Beethoven that afternoon for the
next concert in town.
Every player was rehearsing the symphony diligently. Gauche was also playing the cello earnestly, firmly closing his
lips, and staring at his score.
Suddenly the conductor clapped his hands to stop the music, and shouted,
"Cello, you are slow. Play again once more from C, everybody. Here we go!"
They replayed from C. Gauche, whose face had turned red, his forehead sweaty, replayed and went through the
tune that he had been scolded for. He was relieved and kept playing. Then the conductor clapped his hands again
and the music stopped.
"Cello, your strings don't harmonize with each other. You are a real problem for us. But I don't have time to teach
you from the beginning, you know."
Feeling sorry for him, the rest of the players were either looking at their own notes or touching their own
instruments for a while. He hurriedly adjusted the strings. In addition to his poor performance, his cello was too old.
"Start from D. Here we go!"
They all played together under his direction. Gauche played hard with his mouth closed tightly. They could go
forward quite far this time. The conductor clapped his hands again. The cellist thought he would be the one being
scolded again. But luckily this time it was not his cello. He, staring at his note, pretended to think of something.
"Then from F. Here we go!"
Soon the conductor stamped on the floor hard and shouted,
"No, it absolutely makes no sense. This is the most important part of this music. But your performance is
insensitive. We have only ten days for the concert. Hey, Gauche. You should be more sensitive. You don't express
any emotion in your play such as anger and joy. Besides, you aren't blending well with the other instruments. It
sounds as if you always walk behind others with loose shoelaces. You are a real headache to me. Perk up! If our
orchestra gets a notorious reputation only due to your performance, I'll feel sorry for the other players...Well, that's
all for today."
All the players except Gauche made a bow to the conductor and left there. Gauche shed big drops of tears,
holding the old cello, and sat on the chair facing the wall. But soon he calmed down and began to practice his part
from the beginning.
He came home late at night with the big black cello-case. He lived alone in a broken watermill by the river on the
outskirt of town. He turned on the light, took out his cello from the case, put it softly on the floor, and drank a glass
of water. He shook his head, sat on the chair, and then started playing the cello with crashing force from the
beginning of the piece he had rehearsed in the afternoon. Turning over the score, he played, sometimes stopping it
to think about his performance. He did it again and again from the beginning.
It was already past midnight. As he was beside himself with playing the cello so hard that his face was flushed, and
his eyes were bloodshot. It looked as if he would collapse any minute.
Then someone knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" he answered with a sleepy voice. It was a big tortoise-shell cat that he had seen several times.
The cat, putting down a big half-ripened tomato before him, said,
"I'm tired. It was so heavy."
"This is my gift for you. Please eat it," said the cat.
He shouted at the cat,
"Who in the world told you to bring a tomato to me? First, I wouldn't eat anything you brought. Besides, that
tomato belongs to my field. You picked it up before it ripened enough. Is it you that bit the stalks or messed the
field? Get away! Cat."
The cat hunched its shoulders, puckered its brows, then with a smirk on its face, said,
"Don't get so angry, or it'll be harmful to your health. Why not play 'Traumerei' by Schumann? I'll listen to it."
"None of your lip! You're only a cat!"
The cellist thought a while about what to do for this annoying cat.
"Please play it. I can't sleep without listening to your tune."
"None of your sauce!"
He turned scarlet and stamped on the floor as the conductor had done during the day, but he suddenly changed
his mind, and said,
"All right, I'll play."
He locked the door and the windows and turned off the light, so the nearly full moonlight poured into the room
through the windows.
"By the way, what do you want?"
"Traumerei by Robert Schumann." The cat wiped its lips and said with a straight face.
"I see. Traumerei... Is it this music?"
The cellist, taking precaution, tore his handkerchief and plugged it into his ear holes
He suddenly began to play, 'The tiger-hunting in India' with crushing forth.
The cat was inclining its head and listening to it for a while, but suddenly blinked its eyes and jumped toward the
door. It bumped itself against the door but it wouldn't open. Gauche got greatly amused to see it and played it
much more violently.
"That's enough, sir! Stop it, stop it for God's sake! I'll never instruct you what to play."
"Shut up! Soon I'll reach the scene where the tiger is caught."
The cat, so suffered, whirled around him like a windmill, which made him feel dizzy.
"Now, I'll forgive you this time," saying so, he stopped playing at last.
"Your performance has sounded different tonight." The cat said as if nothing had happened.
He, though getting angry again, kept his temper and said with a cigarette in his mouth,
"Are you all right? Show me your tongue."
The cat stuck out its long tongue as if it made a fool of him.
"It looks a little rough." saying so, he struck a match on its tongue and lit the cigarette.
The cat, so surprised, swinging its tongue like a pinwheel, struck its head against the door again and again with an
unsteady gait.
He, looking at the cat for a while, said,
"I'll let you out. Never come here again. You, idiot!"
He opened the door and smiled a little to see the cat running away like the wind. Then he went to bed and fell into
a deep sleep as if he felt relieved.
The following evening, Gauche came home with the big black cello-case. After gulping a glass of water, he began
to play the cello just like he had done the previous night. It was already past midnight, but he kept playing. ...one
o'clock, then two o'clock...he hadn't noticed the time passing or what he was doing... then someone knocked on the
"It must be that cat. It hasn't learned its lesson yet?"
When he said so, a gray bird flew down through a hole of the attic ceiling. It was a cuckoo.
"A bird? What do you want me for?" he asked.
"I want to learn music from you," the cuckoo answered coolly.
He laughed, and said,
"You said music? Your music is only 'Cuckoo, cuckoo', isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. But it's difficult for me to sing."
"It doesn't seem difficult. You always twitter, 'Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo,' a lot but they are the same sound of
"No. It's terribly difficult. Each 'cuckoo' has different sound. Listen, this 'Cuckoo' is quite different from this
'Cuckoo', isn't it?"
"It sounds the same to me."
"If you say so, you, human beings, can't distinguish the difference of the sounds. If we twitter 'Cuckoo' ten
thousand times, each sound is different to us."
"Suit yourself! You know a lot, then, why did you come to me?"
"I mean, I want to sing the scale 'Do, re, mi, fa' correctly."
"'Do, re, mi, fa'? Go to hell!"
"I'd like to learn it before I fly abroad."
"Fly abroad? You're interesting!"
"Will you show me how to sing 'Do, re, mi, fa' sir? I'll follow you."
"Don't bother me! Go home at once, after I play it just three times for you."
Gauche took up his cello, adjusted the strings, and played 'Do, re, me, fa, sol, la ti do'. Listening to it, the cuckoo
flapped its wings in a hurry.
"No, no. That's not what I want to learn."
"You are annoying! Then, show me how to do it."
"It's like this." It bended its body forward, kept holding the posture briefly, and sang,
"What? Is it your 'Do, re, me, fa? Your 'Do, re, me, fa' and our 'The Sixth Symphony' must be quite the same for
"No, they aren't the same."
"Then, how are they different?"
"The different thing is that we sing cuckoo on and on, and it's difficult."
"That means... like this?" saying so, the cellist took his cello again and played, 'Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo,
cuckoo' in a row.
The cuckoo was so pleased, and followed him from the middle of it,
"...Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo..."
The cuckoo was bending its body and sang so hard that Gauche felt his hands hurt and cried,
"All right. Enough is enough!"
and stopped suddenly. The cuckoo seemed to regret it, and kept on singing for a while like this,
"Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuck, cka, cka, cka, ck, ck," and it stopped.
He said angrily,
"Hey, bird, now that we've finished it, go home right now!"
"Would you mind playing once more? You may think it was perfect, but it was a little different."
"What? I'm not learning from you. Go home!"
"Would you please play it just once more? Please." The bird bowed down before him again and again.
"Well, this is the last time."
Gauche took his bow to get ready to play. The bird took a breath, and said,
"Would you play 'Cuckoo' as long as you can?"
He began to play 'Cuckoo', giving a bitter smile, while the bird began to sing, 'Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo,' in
Although he was very upset at first, he began to think that the bird's 'Cuckoo・was better than his. The longer he
played, the better the bird's song was, he felt.
"Damn it! If I continue doing such a foolish thing, I would become a bird," he thought, and suddenly stopped playing,
but the cuckoo couldn't stop singing at once. It kept its cuckoo for a while like this.
"...Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cka, cka, cka, cka, ck, ck, ck."
Looking at him reproachfully, the bird said,
"Why did you stop it? We wouldn't stop singing until we cough blood."
"None of your lip! I can't do such a foolish thing any more. Go away! Look! Soon the dawn is breaking." saying so,
he pointed at the window.
"Please play with me once more until the sun rises up."
The cuckoo lowered the head again and again.
"Shut your bills! You, idiot! Unless you leave now, I'll eat you for breakfast."
He stamped on the floor.
The bird got so surprised that it suddenly flew to the window, but it fell down when it hit its head against a
"How foolish you are to hit your head on the glass! Wait until I open the window.
He tried to open the old window and made it rattle, but it wasn't easy to open. The bird, which couldn't be patient,
tried to fly away, and hit itself against the windowpane again. Gauche found the bird bleeding at the root of its bills.
He felt pity, and hit the pane with his foot. Now that the glass of the windowpane crashed into pieces, the bird flew
away straight like an arrow.
Gauche, who looked outside disgustedly for a while, fell down at the corner of the room and fell asleep.
The following midnight, he drank a glass of water after practicing to play a lot, when he heard someone knocking on
the door again.
He, with a glass in his hand, waited for someone to come, thinking, he'd drive out whoever came. Opening the door,
a tiny raccoon dog entered the room. He opened it wider, stamped on the floor to threaten it, and yelled at it,
"Hey, you, do you know what raccoon-dog-stew is like?"
The raccoon dog, with a look of bewilderment, was sitting up straight on the floor, tilted its head and was puzzled
about the question for a while.
"I don't know what it is like."
Gauche said with a severe look on purpose,
"So I'll tell you about the raccoon-dog-stew. It's a kind of stewed dish with raccoon dog meat and cabbage, and
seasoned with salt, my favorite."
The little animal seemed astonished, tilted its head, and said to him,
"But my father told me that Gauche was such a kind man who I don't need to be scared of, and told me to learn
from you."
He burst into laughter,
"What did he say you could learn from me? I've been busy and now I'm sleepy."
The raccoon dog bravely took a step forward.
"I play the snare drum. My father told me to practice it with the cello."
"But I don't see you have any snare drum, do I?"
"Here they are! I always have them," saying so, it took out two sticks from its back.
"How do you play with them?"
"I beat my stomach with them. Wouldn't you mind playing 'The Cheerful Stable Master'?
"What is it? Is it a kind of jazz?"
"Here you are." The raccoon dog took a sheet of music from its back and handed it to him. Gauche looked
through it and laughed.
"It seems to be an eccentric tune. All right, I'll play it for you. Will you drum with me?"
He was curious about what it would do next, and glanced at it while playing. Soon the raccoon dog began to beat
the lower part of the cello with its sticks, which made him interested. When they finished the tune, the raccoon
dog cocked its head, thought a while, and said,
"When you played on the second string, Gauche, you are a little slow. So I can't drum well."
It reminded him. He had noticed the sounds produced from the second string were a little later.
"Well, you may be right. My cello is very old," he sounded sad.
The little raccoon dog said,
"We want to know the reason, don't we? Would you play again?"
"All right, I'll play,"
Gauche replayed while the raccoon dog beat on the part of Gauche's cello as it had done, and sometimes bended
its ear close to the cello. Anyway they played together until they were both satisfied with their performance.
"Oh, the day has broken. I must say 'Good-bye', sir. Thank you very much,・saying so, the raccoon dog swung the
note and sticks on its back, made a bow a few times and hurried to leave.
Gauche was gazing into space for a while and breathed the air from the window which had been broken last night.
But he went to bed soon to regain energy.
The following night, he practiced the cello until late at night, got tired, and dozed off with a sheet of music in his
hand. Near the crack of the dawn, someone gently knocked on the door again.
"Come in! The door is open."
It was a field mouse and its tiny young. The mouse, putting a chestnut before him, bowed and said,
"My baby is dying. Have mercy on us and cure its illness, sir?"
Gauche was offended and said,
"I can't be a doctor."
The mother mouse dropped her eyes for a while, mustered her courage, and said,
"Don't tell me you can't. You've cured my friends of their illness every day."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Thanks to you, the rabbit's grandmother and the raccoon dog's father got well. In addition, so did the ill-natured
horned owl. Why won't you help my son?"
"There must be some mistake. I've never helped the horned owl."
The mother mouse burst into tears.
"My baby has become ill just as you've stopped playing. I've been asking you to play again, but you refused. What a
poor thing! Won't you play the cello for my baby?"
He was so surprised and shouted,
"What? Are you saying while I'm playing the cello, I'm curing an owl or a rabbit of their illness? What do you mean
by that?"
The mouse, rubbing her eyes with her hands, said,
"We, animals living around here, crawl under your floor to listen to your cello in order to get over our illness."
"Is it true?"
"Yes, when we listen to your cello, our blood circulates through the body faster and makes us get better."
"Is it really true that the sounds of my cello cure you of your diseases? All right, I'l play."
He, picking up the little mouse and putting it into the hole of his cello, began to play a kind of rhapsody for a few
minutes. After his performance, he took the little mouse out of the hole and put it on the floor.
The young suddenly began to spin on the floor.
"He got well. Thank you so much, Gauche." Saying so, the mother also began to spin with her son.
"Thank you, thank you so much..." after bowing to him about ten times, they left there.
He went to bed and fell asleep soon after.
On the sixth night after that, the orchestra succeeded in playing 'The Sixth Symphony' at the City Hall. There was
a storm of applause. They played another piece as an encore. Even after they left the stage, the audience never
moved and never stopped their clapping and cried,
"Encore! Encore!"
The conductor suddenly called Gauche and said to him behind the stage,
"Gauche, play something for them on the stage."
"Me?・Gauche was dumfounded.
The members pushed him out on the stage. Seeing him, the audience clapped their hands harder.
He said to himself,
"They are making a fool of me! All right, I'll play 'The tiger hunting in India'."
He calmed his temper and sat on a chair in the center of the stage. He played the tune with rapt attention, while
the audience was so quiet to listen to his music. He kept playing; the tune where the cat had blinked its eyes
passed, and then it bumped itself against the door...
When he finished his performance, he ran into the dressing room without looking at the audience, where all the
members, including the conductor, were quietly sitting with their eyes closed.
"I can't figure out what's happening this evening," he thought.
Then the conductor stood up, approached him, and said,
"It was wonderful, Gauche! We were all moved to listen to your performance. Your cello has been much improved
in only a week or so. I should say your performance ten days ago was like a baby's, and now, a soldier's. You could
do it anytime you want to."
The rest of the members also stood up, came to him, and cried in concert,
Late at night that day, he came home. He guzzled down some water and opened the window. He looked up at the
sky, where the cuckoo had flown away, and said,
"Hey, Cuckoo, sorry. I didn't get angry at you. Cat, Raccoon dog and Mice, thank you so much for practicing with
me those nights!"(2011/11/1)