Morning
The breathing of a sleeping person in the next bed. Who?
Though it is someone I know well
It feels like a person I've never met before
The one I met on the shore of a dream is someone else
I took the hand of that person along with a faint uneasiness
But while I was sleeping the morning sun shown through the shutters
The morning is the flower blooming above the soil of the night
The morning is a sparkling key to open the small box of secrets of the night
Or is the morning another me to hide the night?
Envisioning a day about to begin
As if it were a map of an exotic city
I bring back from the sea of bedsheets rippling
That morning in which
The smell of freshly brewed coffee
Encourages us more than the words of any sages
Vivaldi drawing the illusion of harmony in the air
Water that begins in the distant morning dew outpouring from the tap
A new towel has the feeling of a mother's touch in childhood
Even while I read unchanging human cruelty
From newspaper headlines that smell of ink
The morning is now a one-line poem
— Shuntaro Tanikawa
(Translated by Naoko Smith)
朝
谷川俊太郎
隣のベッドで寝息をたてているのは誰？
よく知っている人なのに
まるで見たこともない人のようだ
夢のみぎわで出会ったのはべつの人
かすかな不安とともにその人の手をとった
でも眠りの中に鎧戸ごしの朝陽が射してきて
朝は夜の土の上に咲く束の間の花
朝は夜の秘密の小函を開くきらめく鍵
それとも朝は夜を隠すもうひとりの私？
始まろうとする一日を
異国の街の地図のように思い描き
波立つ敷布の海から私はよみがえる
いれたてのコーヒーの香りが
どんな聖賢の言葉にもまして
私たちをはげましてくれる朝
ヴィヴァルディは中空に調和の幻想を画き
遠い朝露に始まる水は蛇口からほとばしり
新しいタオルは幼い日の母の肌ざわり
インクの匂う新聞の見出しに
変わらぬ人間のむごさを読みとるとしても
朝はいま一行の詩
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