Hayashi Fumiko [Japan]
ah, what a pitiful waitress I am.
all has turned to wine.
opening my red mouth over the spill on the table
I belch fire.
tonight's dance music....
I'm just fine
although I'm a nice girl
a really nice girl
I scatter my feelings
generously like cut flowers
among petty pigs of men.
Ah, is Revolution the wind blowing north..."
the final scene with that man has come slowly but surely
in his bowels
sliced open with one sword cut
a killfish swarms smartly.
and so that man has run from me
it's a night that wraps me up in darkness.
there was no red snow
so I need not praise Fuji as a fine mountain.
seeing its reflection in the train window,
the heart of this peaked mountain
threatens my broken life
and looks down coldly on my eyes.
Fly across that mountain from dome to peak
with your crimson mouths, give a scornful laugh
Fuji is a great sorrowful palace of snow,
blow and rage
Mount Fuji is the symbol of Japan
it's a sphinx
a thick, dream-like nostalgia
a great, sorrowful palace of snow where demons live.
in your form painted by Hokusai
I have seen your youthful spark.
why do you flee from the murky snow?
so bright and still
it's not a silver citadel
it's a great, sorrowful palace of snow that hides misfortune.
here is a woman laughing scornfully at you.
howls and roars
until you knock her stubborn head down
I shall wait, happily whistling.