Bone
Translated By Jeffrey Angles
Translated from the Japanese
Look, look! This is my bone
Torn free of that filthy flesh
Filled with the sufferings of life
A bone washed white by rain
Tip protruding
It does not shine—
Pointlessly white
It soaks up rain
Is blown by wind
Reflects slivers of sky
While alive
This bone must have sat
In crowded cafeterias
Eaten boiled greens—
How strange that seems!
Look, look! This is my bone
Am I the one that sees? How odd ...
Does the soul remain
Return to the corpse
And dare to look?
Standing in half-dead grass
On the banks of a brook
In my hometown—is that me?
White and bare, the bone protrudes
The height of a signpost
Notes:
Read the translator’s note by Jeffrey Angles.
Source: Poetry (June 2025)