Наши руки — земля, наши тела — глина, а наши глаза — дождевые лужи. Мы не знаем, живы ли мы еще
EPITAPH FOR “POET’S TOMB”
When I was born
I was nameless
like a water molecule
But right away I was fed vowels mouth-to-mouth
consonants tickled my ears
I was called and
pulled away from the cosmos
Oscillating the atmosphere
carved onto clay tablets
inscribed on bamboo
recorded on sand
words are onion skins
If I keep on peeling
I will not find the cosmos
I would have loved to lose words
to be a tree singing in the wind
I would have loved to be a cloud from a hundred thousand years ago
I would have loved to be a whale’s song
Now I go back to being nameless
with dirt over my eyes, my ears and my mouth
with stars leading me by the fingers
— SHUNTARO TANIKAWA