Month: Sep 2026

honey in the wound – jiyoung han

*******

Green sprouts spread on Dahn’s chest where his wife’s weeping head lay, spilling tiny leaves down his shoulders and onto the forest floor. Guttural sounds neither beast nor human, perhaps from the earth itself, rang through the forest as Dahn bled out.
[…]
Myoung-Ok let out one final wail as her body crumbled into a pall of grave dirt and grass, engulfing her lost love in a final embrace as she, too, surrendered to the earth.

*******

Desperation gnawed at the empty stomachs of the villagers. What little food the farmers managed to produce was confiscated and shipped overseas to cater to the rising needs of the Japanese Empire. They were left with meager government rations, if that, and resorted to pouring more water into their flavorless gruels to make them last longer.
[…]
Hungry and humiliated, the country broiled with protest. Farmers, students, scholars, workers, poets: all linked arms to push against the emperor of Japan.

*******

*imi doresc sa stiu a desena sau picta.
*reversul medaliei nipone

honey in the wound – jiyoung han

*******

“No, our parents can’t leave. They belong to this mountain, and the mountain will care for them in its own way. But you and I are different. We can still go somewhere human destruction can’t follow us.”

*******

Letting her tears fall into his palms, she said, “Rub this into our parents’ feet while they sleep, and their souls will not run from their bodies. But don’t tell anyone I was here or the medicine won’t work.”

*******

am citit “un veac de singuratate” acum multi ani, iar scriitura imi aminteste de sentimentele acelei lecturi – voce evocativa, de poveste la gura focului, in balansoar, si un univers mistic, cu magie…

2021:
raza de soare
suflarea trecutului
ravasind modern.

2022:
ravasind modern,
tren fura lumina din
templul de carbuni…

2023:
templul de carbuni,
pe cer scrijelind semn de
prosperitate…

2024:
prosperitate:
o sageata de aur
pe-un cer-diamant.

2025:
pe-un cer-diamant,
un colier decorat
haotic. noapte.

2026:
haotic. noapte.
cand iti simti existenta
ninsa cu stele?…

2021:
citesc imagini
in ceasca mea de cafea.
matineu nipon.

2022:
matineu nipon –
sperante calatoare;
zile cu senin.

2023:
zile cu senin:
seninatatea e in
cer, si nu numai…

2024:
cer, si nu numai:
dau inapoi iubirea
pentru ea, Japo.

2025:
pentru ea, Japo,
armonia interna
i-e innascuta…

2026:
i-e innascuta
privirii, cautarea;
incantatoare.

honey in the wound – jiyoung han

*******

Myoung-Ok came to know what she would name her children only after feeling their weight press into her arms: geum, or gold, in hopes they might prosper in a way she never had herself. The sudden provenance of this wish surprised her, as she had always been more concerned with the gold of a fallen gingko nut than with the gold of a coin.

*******

she repeated what she said to him the day he nearly killed her: “I feel your footsteps in my chest.”

*******

Myoung-Ok cultivated her children’s love for the earth so that the earth would love them in return.

*******

When she asked Myoung-Ok about the village, her mother clucked and told her that life was better in the mountains. “People bring the burden of expectation,” she said. “Being trapped in that expectation is suffocating, even for the richest yangban in the village.”

record of a night too brief – hiromi kawakami

*******

The cells were gradually forming themselves into shapes—commas, ribbons, balls, all sorts of other weird things—and finally they turned into something that resembled a girl.

*******

And the night, enveloped by that presence, reached its deepest and darkest state of being, the darkness a kind of truth in itself.

*******

If I listened carefully, I could hear rustling sounds falling like rain around me. It was the sound of branches growing, and leaves unfurling. The sound was fresher and more vital than the one I had heard from within the girl’s body.
The vegetation surrounding the girl grew thick and luxurious, eventually becoming a forest.

*******

I had the feeling I was about to remember something I had forgotten. Because it was something I had forgotten, I had no idea what it might be, but it felt as if I was going to remember it any moment now.

*******

We slept deeply, dreaming our dreams, which rose and burst like bubbles many, many times in the space of the night.

2021:
pe acoperis
mi se creste un munte –
precum si-n suflet…

2022:
precum si-n suflet –
magazin de emotii
insorind zapezi…

2023:
insorind zapezi,
arunca niste doruri
mistuitoare…

2024:
mistuitoare
privirile spre Fuji –
flacari si gheatza.

2025:
flacari si gheatza:
vulcan dormind prin versuri
de sonet toscan.

2026:
de sonet toscan
povesteste sufletul,
in ras nebunesc…

2021:
vegheati-mi pasii,
frunze-ale amurgului,
carari de toamna!…

2022:
carari de toamna –
decorul razelor, o
dantela de foc…

2023:
dantela de foc:
al iernii este toamna
voal de mireasa…

2024:
voal de mireasa:
evantaiul frunzelor,
imbracand Toamna…

2025:
imbracand Toamna
in tesaturi brodate
din lacrimile…

2026:
din lacrimile
unui vis de vara, iti
pictez frunzele…

record of a night too brief – hiromi kawakami

*******

SCHRÖDINGER’S CAT

How would one describe the girl now, as she was inside the box? It was like she was there, only she wasn’t; or like she wasn’t, except that she was. Or maybe she occupied an indeterminate state of being, both there and not there, in exactly equal amounts.

*******

Why did I smash the box? I thought bitterly. But how could I have stopped myself?
How could anyone endure such a state, of having someone there and not there—not there and there—at the same time? Deeply indignant at this quandary of quantum physics, I cried and cried.

record of a night too brief – hiromi kawakami

*******

My mass had been missing for a while. You tend to assume that without any mass you wouldn’t exist. But I was definitely there. Hard to believe, but it was true.

*******

The light was shining out of a corner of the night sky.

*******

Her hand as she touched my lips smelt of the night.

2021:
flori de ciresi
scuturandu-se lent in
sotronul vietii…

2022:
sotronul vietii
se joaca din petale,
nu pietricele…

2023:
nu pietricele
sunt cele pretioase,
ci vietuirea…

2024:
ci vietuirea
rozului nepamantesc –
al parfumului…

2025:
al parfumului
efect misterios: cum
de fericire?…

2026:
de fericire,
si spiritu’-mi se-nclina:
ce reverenta!…

2021:
campii de orez –
tablouri de teatru si
arta si picturi…

2022:
arta si picturi –
decor semi-efemer
pe scena vietii…

2023:
pe scena vietii,
fiecare orizont,
propria-i cortina…

2024:
propria-i cortina,
privirii ii devine
etern – (s)clipire…

2025:
etern – (s)clipire:
azurul cerului de
vara, efemer…

2026:
vara, efemer,
ma mai racoresc niste –
ganduri de iarna…

record of a night too brief – hiromi kawakami

*******

No matter how much I poured into the cup, it never filled. And then I realized that the liquid I assumed to be coffee had, unbeknownst to me, turned into night.
Peering into the night as it poured into the cup, I could see tiny stars and gases whirling near the surface, and down at the bottom, something laughing. In dismay, I took the cup to a sink, and tipped it so that all the night it contained would spill out, but as long as I held it there, the night kept on flowing, interminably.

record of a night too brief – hiromi kawakami

*******

The scent of her breath was like the odour of lilies at full bloom, and the sound of her breath coming out of her mouth was like a butterfly faintly beating its wings.

*******

The girl became more and more mixed and homogeneous with me, until in the end I lost track of whether the girl was me, or I was the girl. It was only then that I started to love her, and to miss her. I loved and missed something I couldn’t define, some combination of us both.

2021:
luna-capsunea,
in pasteluri fondante
indulcind noaptea…

2022:
indulcind noaptea,
culorile capata
iz de dulceata…

2023:
iz de dulceata:
dintr-o fotografie
irump dulci-priviri…

2024:
irump dulci-priviri:
Regina Noptii oare-i
Luna sau Floare?!…

2025:
Luna sau Floare?!…
cerul noptii inflorit,
intr-un trandafir.

2026:
intr-un trandafir,
cuvinte de dragoste;
oare va-nflori?…

2021:
ne indepartam;
si totusi, in privire
imi esti aproape.

2022:
imi esti aproape:
fire invizibile
inca ne leaga…

2023:
inca ne leaga
doua destine, doar o
destinatie…

2024:
destinatie:
cand zapada culmilor
se desface-n nori.

2025:
se desface-n nori
un cer cu soare – joaca
de-a fantezia.

2026:
“de-a fantezia” –
titlu de roman visat,
tren de vacanta…

record of a night too brief – hiromi kawakami

*******

When she sang high notes, flocks of birds took flight from the branches of the gingko trees. When she sang low notes, the earth heaved, and small furry creatures emerged from underground and crawled about.
[…]
the singer commenced singing. It was as if an immense musical instrument was filling the firmament with sound, or as if the melody of her song was swimming through the skies… In the next moment her voice had overwhelmed all else, and rather than listening, we seemed to be encompassed within it. No longer able to know the words, we were conscious only that her lilting voice was, slowly and powerfully, all around us.

*******

“Where are we going?” I enquired. The girl nodded several times, her eyes closed, looking unworried.
“Where?” I asked again.
“The night,” she replied.
With that, her head tilted downwards, and she fell into a deep sleep. She was carried along as she slept.
Now a part of the chaos, alongside the girl, I entered the night.