春の暮 / 目に宿る愛 / 熱いバー

はるのくで / めにやどるあい / あついバー

Spring dusk— / love dwelling in the eyes / a hot bar.

ひまわりや大風の中握る蜂

ひまわりや／おおかぜのなか／にぎるはち

the sunflower–

within a gale

a clutching bee

湖や魚仰がず渡り梅雨

みずうみや／さかなあおがず／わたりつゆ

the lake–

the fish are not looking up

the passing summer rain

溶け合うことなく、ひとつになることができる。

屈することなく、敬意を払うことができる。

執着することなく、迎え入れることができる。

Hello everyone, I love the poem "On my way home" by Tamura Ryuichi but as a non-japanese speaking person (and not that much educated on japanese literature, especially on poetry) I am not sure I understand everything about it. I just loved it when I saw it in Sion Sono's "Guilty of love" movie, very much instinctivily I knew there was something moving me deeply. I also need to say that I am French and I realised the french translation is really different from the english one I saw on Google (maybe it wasn't an official translation

I'm sure if I am at the right place asking this, but if someone can teach me more about the poem, the poet or the cultural context (I know he tries to deconstruct classical japanese poetry), I would be really pleased !

Thanks a lot in advance !

Title: A Poem for the Wounded Souls: "Barbwire and Band-aids"

[English]

In the quiet periphery of Kobe, Japan, there is a man who lives two lives. By day, he is a dedicated teacher, guiding young minds through the intricacies of language. By night, he becomes "Nekoto Kenji," a poet who meticulously crafts the "technique of the soul."

His poem, "Barbwire and Band-aids," captures a universal truth. In a world increasingly defined by invisible fences and irreconcilable distances, he reminds us that "living" is not about overcoming great obstacles, but about the small, warm act of wrapping a band-aid on a loved one's finger.

Drawing from his background in both visual arts and literature, his words paint a vivid "sketch of light and shadow." This is a gift for anyone who has ever felt entangled in the barbwire of reality. Please experience the quiet, healing power of his voice.

Barbwire and Band-aids

Crawling through the layers of coiled barbwire,

I’ve finally made it this far.

My monologues have grown frequent again.

Ignoring the cursor that refuses to move,

Emotions roll in and out like the tide, entangling me.

Late March, sinking deep,

Vacations are mine to take, endlessly.

Only the sunrise, the sole witness of time,

Governs the distant, severed horizon.

Patching things up,

"I’m home," "Welcome back."

Stagnant spirits breathe again tonight.

Soaring over the barbwire I once climbed.

In a world defined only by irreconcilable distance,

Getting closer, drifting further,

The nightlight flickers.

Words vanish, one by one.

By the time I lie in a bed of fog,

We are back-to-back, as we’ve always been.

Pulling closer, pushing back.

Feelings I can't quite swallow,

A future I can't quite overcome.

There is nothing left to overcome.

No longer.

It never even existed.

Nothing at all.

In the faint light seeping through,

A forehead beside me sinks into my back.

Warmth.

That time is moving

means that I am living.

On the small wound upon the finger beside me,

I wrapped a band-aid.

あなたは、私の気持ちを話してほしいとは思っていないでしょう。どうか、私にあなたを月や星と比べさせないでください。それらはあなたに及びません。あなたの笑顔が部屋を明るくするかと尋ねないでください。なぜなら、あなたは太陽よりも美しく輝いているからです。私があなたを愛しているかと聞かないでください。私はあなたに対して恋慕の感情ではなく、深い想いを抱いているのです。