Sake Poetry:
Tedorigawa Yoshida-gura “U”
(Yoshida Shuzoten @Ishikawa Pref.)

That walk upon the snow
I see　There is an edge in soft snow
If touched it will
　　　　   melt
Although it melts
it carves pain
transparently
　　The snow　cont inues　　to fall
Like the heat of summer
melt it away
Hands move today, too
Ripples spread
Are shivers a physical portent?
　　perhaps –
Climb the stairs again　today
　　the stairs
I climb　as in
Each day
were we
somehow
able to touch upon it?　　Thereto
(ultimately nobody answers)
Climbing
Height is fear　Fear is　pride
Is it so　It is so　It is so　Is it?
But the view from the landing always
Ah, it does not change
It troubles me
Quitting is not quite possible
(doing, quitting, doing – none are routes of escape)

On the road of not quitting, trampling a bud of a tree　　one step

Hands continue to move
without moving them
In the meantime
　　or so was said
　　　　as if there were reason to move
　　　　　　there isn’t – the clear sky today, again
Cloudiness, clouded-sky, sky　after cloudiness after cloudiness
Snow that seems to want to crush the cloudiness
Fingers again – warm light and thin smoke that awaken
always gather at one point in the sky
Even　with pray er
　　the falling cont inues
In raging billows
No – soundly
Just like
consuming the clouds
Every day without flavor　with texture
Numbed hands
Numbed　hands
do not scream
Why?
Without　screaming
Sighing again to the clouds
Those who see that are always comfortable
That’s　all right but
Those who give birth are　those who eat again
To eat the clouds is　to live
If a continuous, unbroken chain is reflected

In heat, snow

On any day

In shadow, flowers

In soft snow
there is an edge
If it is touched
it will
melt, but
– although it melts transparently
　　it
　　cuts
Pain
without reason
The refrain
today, too
walks on its own accord
A refrain of déjà vu
Engulfs
Will always melts in white
Here, again, I can’t help but laugh
Together with a useless will
Refrain

(“This is good sake”)
(“It truly is”)

It is, right?
Yes　It is

Continually carved　Continually carving
With both hands

Vines cling to each step
A whiteness　crystal
In my line of sight, the light in the winter night
Summer　I wait for you in the garden

– Hey, don’t you scowl so much…
In soft snow　there is an edge