Selected Tanka by Yosano Akiko

Tanka are the ‘older siblings’ of haiku, the form is at least a thousand years old. Haiku have 17 syllables (often 5-7-5), where a tanka is 31 syllables (often 5-7-5-7-7).

Translations by Jean Gordon Kocienda

Illustration of a woman in traditional Japanese kimono reaching out to a firefly at night, with a large orange moon and green foliage in the background, and the text 'a novel'.

やはらかにぬる夜ねぬ夜を雨しらず鴬まぜてそぼふる三日

Gently soaking the night as I lay awake,

Mixing unnoticed with a warbler’s song

Softly falling

Three days of rain

のろひ歌かかかさねたる反古とりて

黒き胡蝶をおさへぬるかな

I wrote a cursed verse

And used the paper to catch

what danced into my room —

A black butterfly

三味線の一の絲のみかき鳴し時雨通りぬ文書けるとき

As I sat writing

A rain shower passed

Like someone plucked a shamisen’s lowest string

And let it sing

なにとなく 君に待たるる ここちして 出でし 花野の 夕月夜かな

The moon shone over an autumn field

As I stepped out, sensing somehow

That you were waiting for me

人の子の恋をもとむる唇に毒ある密をわれぬらむ願ひ

In the mouths of youth

Who hunger for love

Put honey laced with poison

みだれ髪を京の島田にかへし朝ふしてゐませの君ゆり起こす

Wake up, honey

I twisted back my tangled hair

Into a Kyoto-style bun

かへりみれば君やおもひし身をやめでし恋は驕りに添ひて燃えし火

Looking back now

Your love for me

Fanned the flames of

My love for myself

この頃のわが衰へを美くしと見るすべ時にうち忘れつつ

Lately I forget to see

The beauty in my own decline

ひとすじにあやなく君が指おちてみだれなむとす夜の黒髪

Absently you reach out a finger

And tangle a strand of my night-black hair

京の水の深み見おろし秋を人の

裂きし小指の血のあと寒き

Autumn leaves reflected in a Kyoto well

She writes a verse in blood with her little finger

And shivers

かざしたる牡丹火となり海燃えぬ思ひみだるる人の子の夢

The peony tucked in my hair bursts into flame

And becomes a roiling sea of fire

Such are this tangled girl’s dreams

母の顔木の間の月を見るやうに子は遠く見る病して後

My children peer at me

Like a distant moon through trees

Mommy is on the mend

旅の身の大河ひとつまどはむや

徐に日記の里の名けしぬ(旅びと)

Traveler, cross the mad river slowly, then

Erase the name of your beloved hometown 

From the diary of your mind

くれなゐの薔薇のかさねの唇に

霊の香のなき歌載せますな

Only my truth, the incense of my soul,

Must ever be sung from

This dark-dyed rose petal mouth  

秋の神の御衣より曳く白き虹

ものおもふ子の額に消えぬ

Pulled from Autumn’s robes,

Descending faded, it disappears

Into the dreaming maiden’s brow

A rainbow

恋人の歌くちずさみつつ

夕よる柱つめたき秋の雨かな

Staring out at the autumn rain

Humming your song,

I lean against a cold, wood column

And wish it was you

おりたちてうつつなき身の牡丹見ぬ

そぞろや夜を蝶のねにこし

Wandering in a garden of flowers I see

A butterfly resting his wings

In a peony's arms

海棠にえうなくときし紅すてて

夕雨みやる瞳よたゆき

Lipstick discarded 

Red under the dripping begonia

Washed out, she walks away

あづまやに水のおときく

藤の夕はづしますなのひくき枕よ

Stay in this quiet place

Wisteria in evening, the sound of water

And your head in my lap

黒き家灯のともる時旅人は涙こぼしぬ川のこなたに

As a light comes on in a dark house across the river,

On this side,

A traveler weeps

兎の絵魚の絵描きて永き日を子に見することややあじきなし

Pictures of rabbits, Pictures of fish

A day with tireless playing children

Leaves me feeling empty

不可思議は天に二日のあるよりもわが體に鳴る三つの心臓

More mysterious than two suns in one sky

Three hearts are sounding in my body

うすものの二尺のたもとすべりおちて

蛍ながるる夜風の青木

Sliding down the long sleeve of her summer kimono

The firefly floats into the blue night

まゐる酒に灯あかき宵を歌たまへ

女はらから牡丹に名なき

Here for the sake and the bright lights,

“Recite more poems!” they say,

Like so many pretty peonies

These nameless women 

あめつちの中にただよふ悲しみを

わがものとして親しむ夕

All the sadness of

Heaven and Earth

I make my own tonight

われすでにあたはずと云ひ人々に

一尺すさりものをこそ思へ

To those who say

It should already be done

I think it better

To slow down a bit

わが恋のめでたきことを思ふ時おつる涙の焔のしづく

When I think of our love

So powerful

My teardrops turn to flames

美くしく黄金を塗れる塔に居て
十とせさめざる夢のひとわれ

No longer a child, I am

Still painting my golden tower 

Still dreaming my dreams

わが取れる紗の燈籠に草いろの袖をひろげて来る蟷螂

Lighting a lantern with a bit of gauze

A praying mantis comes to see

Spreading his grass-colored sleeves

As Akiko got older, I think she felt a lot of regret and guilt.

Thoughts in Autumn

 

This morning, I am thinking.  

Things are clearer now in autumn, 

They are coming together:

Love, death, art, 

Clear and cool as a bell. 

 

Raising my eyes to 

the blue sky, I am there. 

In the cattails before me too.

 

Drenched in teardrops, 

Now, at last, I can cry.

「秋思」

 

わが思い この朝ぞ

秋に澄み、

一つに集まる。

愛と、死と、芸術と、

玲瓏として涼し。

 

目をあげて見れば、

かの青空も我なり、

前なる狗子草も、

 

涙しとどにとめて、

やがて泣ける我なり

わが太郎色鉛筆の短きを
二つ三つ持ち雪を見るかな

My boy sits with stubby colored pencils 

And contemplates the snow

水十里ゆふべの船をあだにやりて

柳による子ぬかうつくしき乙女

A pier at sundown 

Woman leans on a willow tree

And watches him go

三十路をば越していよいよ自らの
愛づべきを知り黒髪を梳く

Over thirty now,

it comes to me as I comb my black hair,

It is time to start loving myself

わが恋は 虹にもまして 美しき

いなづまとこそ 似むと願ひむ

My love will be

Beautiful as a rainbow

But like lightning too

七つの子かたはらに来てわが歌をすこしづつ読む春の夕ぐれ

Spring evening

Seven-year old comes to my side

And reads my poem

One character at a time

 神のさだめ命のひびき終の我世琴に斧うつ音ききたまへ

When the gods deliver judgment on me

Take an axe to my koto and

Listen to the notes of my life

Reverberating

とき髪に室睦まじの百合のかをり

消えをあやぶむ夜の淡紅色よ

Unwinding my hair in this room where we slept

The fragrance of lilies is fading

In the soft red night

ほとほとも他事に埋もれありしこと流星のごと思ひ出しかな

Up to my neck in everyday worries when

--just like that--

It shoots through my heart like a falling star

よそごとに涙こぼれぬある時の

ありのすさびにひきあはせつつ

Something reminds me

and tears flow;

I am

Too tired for gratitude

石七つ拾へるひまにわが心

大人になりぬ石捨てて行く

Seven stones I picked up on the beach

Then the grownup in me

Threw them down and walked away

火の跡の灰といささかことなれる

この趣きを君は知るらむ

We are more than just

Ashes after a great fire

You know that 

I hope

君に似し二尺ばかりの人ありて家うち光れり神より来しや

These little ones that look like you

Gifts from God

that fill our house with light

なつかしきものを偽り次次に草の名までも云ひ続けけり

You ask me what I love most

I recite a long list of grasses and flowers 

But I’m lying

しろがね矢おへる丹の頬の助勢のきたるを覚ゆ海をし見れば

Look, toward the sea!

Red-cheeked, bearing silver arrows,

Reinforcements are coming.

むらさきの蝶夜の夢にとびかひぬふるさとにちる藤の見えけむ

Purple butterflies fluttered in my dreams. 

When I opened my eyes 

Wisteria petals were floating down the street 

わが心さびしき色に染むと見き火のごとしてふことのはじめに

Even in the beginning,

when our hearts were burning,

the color of my flames was lonely

Night pillow

Hair and the red coral pin soaked with rain

Come back to me

夜のまくら赤き珊瑚にむら雨のふるとしきかば帰りこよ君

Stars look down on the flutter of bed drapes below and imagine

Tendrils of nether women’s hair

夜の帳に ささめき尽きし星の今を 下界の人の 鬢のほつれよ

He could sleep through the bells of Chion-In Temple

Yet the whisper of my robe as I picked up my fan

Made him open his eyes

知恩院の鐘が覚まさぬ人さめぬ扇もとむるわが衣ずれに

Who is to blame? she cries,

Why are the best ones left to spin in the tide?

誰が罪ぞ永劫くらきうづしほの中にさそひし玉と泣くひと

Through tears you see me

A girl on fire

You are burning too

 

われを見れば焔の少女君みれば君も火なりと涙ながしぬ

春三月柱おかぬ琴に 音たてぬ ふれし そぞろの宵の 乱れ髪

Three spring months, the koto sat unplayed until

Tangled hair fell upon the strings and

It sang

I miss the ocean

The girl I was

Counting the distant sounding waves

My parents’ house

海恋し潮の遠鳴りかぞへては少女となりし父母の家

White Plum blossoms.jpg

In 1901, Akiko moved from her home near the ancient capital of Kyoto, to the far-off, big city of Tokyo. Her family disowned her for running off with a man who was already married. She must have felt lonely at times. In this tanka, Akiko is missing her mother. I sometimes think about where my own mother is too, at this moment, far away from me.

West from this grassy door three hundred miles

There is a garden of white plum blossoms under a thin moon

Perhaps the petals fall on my mother’s shoulders tonight

草の戸の西うすの月の京は百里の白梅母にちる夜か

 In 1912, Akiko left on a long trip to Europe. Her husband, Hiroshi, had left months earlier. Their goal was to document their impressions of the outside world to a Japanese public eager for information. After more than 200 years of almost-total isolation, Japan had only recently reopened to international commerce and communication. Akiko left behind six children, probably in the care of relatives. Akiko returned to Japan a few months later, ahead of Hiroshi, in part because she could not bear to be parted from her children.

子等に

 あはれならずや、その雛を

荒がんの上の巣に残し、

恋しき兄鷹を尋ねんと、

颶風の空に下りながら

雛の啼く音にためらへる

若き女鷹の若しあらば。

それは窶れて遠く行く

今日の門出の我が心。

いとしき児らよ、ゆるせかし、

しばし待てかし、若き日を

猶夢を見るこの母は

汝が父をこそ頼むなれ。

To My Children

The mother hawk comes no more,

Her chicks in a nest on a stormy cliff,

If dear Brother Hawk had not come,

Descending from a cyclone sky,

The cries of her chicks

Would have made her waver. 

 

How pitiful am I, to go so far away. 

I hesitate in the doorway.

 

My beloved children, forgive me,

Wait for me, pause your childish days,

As for this dreaming mother of yours,

Go ask your father.

鼠 

わが家の天井に鼠栖めり、

きしきしと音するは

鑿とりて像を彫む人

夜も寝ぬが如し。

またその妻と踊りては

廻るひびき

競馬の勢あり。

わが物書く上に

屋根裏の砂ぼこり

はらはらと散るも

彼等いかで知らん。

されど我は思ふ、

我は鼠と共に栖めるなり、

彼等に食ひ物あれ、

よき温かき巣あれ、

天井に孔をも開けて

折折に我を覗けよ。

The Mouse

A mouse lives in my ceiling.

The sound he makes at night,

Is like a sculptor who can’t sleep

Tap-tapping with his chisel.

He also dances with his wife,

Around and around,

Like race horses running,

Raining dust powdery from the ceiling

On top of my papers,

Unbeknownst to them.

And yet, I think,

I can live with this mouse.

He has a bit of food,

And a warm little nest,

And sometimes he peeks through

The hole in the ceiling

To check on me.

She is a lamb wandering thirsty in the forest

And he is water

水に飢ゑて 森をさまよふ 小羊の その まなざしに 似たらずや 君

Borne on the spring evening breeze

A sweet fragrance touches her hair

Leave her be

She is so young

春の夜の 闇の中くる あまき風 しばし かの子が 髪に吹かざれ

Sensing that you are looking for me

I step into the moonlight

Fall leaves swirl

なにとなく君に待たるるここちして出でし花野の夕月夜かな

まゐる酒に, 灯 あかき宵を 歌 たまへ, 女はらから 牡丹に 名なき

“Read more poetry and we’ll pour more wine”, the ladies croon, and you indulge them.

But no one names peonies, you know, they all look the same.

海棠に えうなく ときし 紅すてて 夕雨みやる 瞳よたゆき

Unused lipstick lies discarded under the dripping flower hedge

Washed out, she heads home

細き わが うなじにあまる 御手のべて ささへたまへな 帰る夜の神

I know you must go but

Hold me, she says

The nape of her neck supported by his broad hand