For the Autumn

Yoshimoto Takaaki

A round sky is clear.
Birds fall towards
me like slugs,
Changing into some drops of uneasiness.
I will become a refused thought,
Stirring this clear sky.
My comrades don't allow me
Because of suffering poverty in their lives.
And they are catching unreasonable poverty
With their two arms.
If I would visit them,
They would meet me timidly
Like a thought prohibited in a foreign country.
As if when I take out obscene pictures,
Why must I open my thought?
My comrades and their miserable heritage of endurace who I love,
You, serve me a cup of tea.
I take out some rice cake from my pocket,
Listening silently
To the every sound which this uneasy autumn makes to us.
You hear the clashing sound of empty dishes,
I hear the sound of the heavy earth spinning.
And we will separate.
Relationships between us will be all right.

 And I am almost refused everywhere.
Even if suffering before the catastrophe connects us,
Our great separation depends on interests.
A drift of unesay autum is blowing throgh my mind.
I earn money by moving my arms and feet.
Consumption of my mind and body is
Production factory of order.
Direction of wind and smoke which I see from here
Almost leads me to an incomprehensinble uneasiness.
From here I can't see the horizon of human beings
Nor buildings and show windows.
Oh! And I won't have any dreams.
Workers who regard me a friendly neigbor,
I am feeling the hate of close relatives.
I am an enemy against orders and you.
You laugh slightly at my struggle.
You are rolling drum cans in a weary manner.
I who am a sample fool at your home,
Am sticked by a pin
I won't die in your sample box.
I have been lonely severely between my comrades.
My comrades and their miserable heritage of endurace who I love,
It is useless for you to try to make me sleep by warmness.
It is useless for you to ask affirmation for everything you have.
I will live as refused thoughts and as their meanings.
I get down to the bottom of stairs of dim order.
At the end of punishment I sleep
Surely a sign of catastrophe will awake me.

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