National Poetry Month
Apr. 2nd, 2014 07:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brigdhFour poems by Yosano Akiko, translation by Sam Hamill.
You never touch
This soft skin
Surging with hot blood.
Are you not bored,
Expounding the Way?
Spring is short:
Why should it
Be thought immortal?
I grope for
My full breasts with my hands.
The sutra is sour:
This spring evening,
O Twenty-Five Saints
Of the inner sanctuary,
Accept my songs instead.
No camellia
Nor plum for me,
No flower that is white.
Peach blossom has a colour
That does not ask my sins.
You never touch
This soft skin
Surging with hot blood.
Are you not bored,
Expounding the Way?
Spring is short:
Why should it
Be thought immortal?
I grope for
My full breasts with my hands.
The sutra is sour:
This spring evening,
O Twenty-Five Saints
Of the inner sanctuary,
Accept my songs instead.
No camellia
Nor plum for me,
No flower that is white.
Peach blossom has a colour
That does not ask my sins.
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no subject
Date: 2014-04-03 09:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-03 06:39 pm (UTC)