Romaji Diary and Sad Toys

by Takuboku Ishikawa

  177 Itsutsu ni naru ko ni, naze tomo naku/ Soniya to yū roshia na o tsukete,/ Yobite wa yorokobu.

  178 Tokegataki/ Fuwa no aida ni mi o shoshite,/ Hitori kanashiku kyō mo ikareri.

  179 Neko o kawaba,/ Sono neko ga mata arasoi no tane to naruran./ Kanashiki waga ie.

  180 Ore hitori geshukuya ni yarite kurenu ka to,/ Kyō mo, ayauku,/ liideshi kana.

  181 Aru hi, futo, yamai o wasure,/ Ushi no naku mane o shite minu—/ Tsumako no rusu ni.

  182 Kanashiki wa waga chichi!/ Kyō mo shinbun o yomiakite,/ Niwa ni koari to asoberi.

  183 Tada hitori no/ Otoko no ko naru ware wa kaku sodateri./ Fubo mo kanashikaruran.

  184 Cha made tachite,/ Waga heifuku o inoritamō/ Haha no kyō mata nani ka ikareru.

  185 Kyō hyotto kinjo no kora to asobitaku nari/ Yobedo kitarazu./ Kokoro muzukashi.

  186 Yamai iezu,/ Shinazu,/ Higoto ni kokoro nomi kewashiku nareru nanayatsuki kana.

  187 Kaiokishi/ Kusuri tsukitaru asa ni kishi/ Tomo no nasake no kawase no kanashisa.

  188 Ko o shikareba,/ Naite, neirinu./ Kuchi sukoshi akeshi negao ni sawarite miru kana.

  189 Nani ga nashi ni/ Hai ga chiisaku nareru gotoku omoite okinu—/ Aki chikaki asa.

  190 Aki chikashi!/ Dentō no tama no nukumori no/ Sawareba yubi no hifu ni shitashiki.

  191 Hirune seshi ko no makurabe ni/ Ningyō o kaikite kazari,/ Hitori tanoshimu.

  192 Kurisuto o hito nari to ieba,/ Imōto no me ga kanashiku mo/ Ware o awaremu.

  193 Ensaki ni makura dasasete,/ Hisashiburi ni,/ Yūbe no sora ni shitashimeru kana.

  194 Niwa no soto o shiroki inu yukeri./ Furimukite,/ Inu o kawan to tsuma ni hakareru.

  Notes

  1. In his postscript to Sad Toys, Aika Toki (b. 1885), Takuboku's friend who advocated replacing Chinese and Japanese characters with Roman letters and whose creation of tanka in three lines influenced Takuboku, writes: "... concerning the text [of Sad Toys], I meticulously followed the 'dismal-looking' notebook. The order of the poems, punctuation, division into lines, and indentation—all are as they were in the notebook. The first two poems, however, were not in the notebook, but l included them. I found them written on a piece of paper." Tanka 1 and 2 are the poems referred to.

  The "sound" Takuboku feels is one familiar to tuberculosis or asthmatic patients, the patient himself able to hear it. It occurs in the chest, probably caused by mucus in the bronchial tubes. At this stage of his illness, Takuboku perhaps realized he had tuberculosis, so this poem may have been written near the end of his life. Tuberculosis was incurable in those days. Rich men at least were able to go to a better climate, rest, and take nutritious food, but such possibilities were closed to Takuboku.

  The word kogarashi is a combination of ki (tree) and garashi (from karasu, to make dry, to sear). Kogarashi, a cliché in Japanese poetry, refers to a strong cold wind that blows at the end of autumn. Kogarashi suggests loneliness and coldness.

  2. Perhaps the speaker was writing a poem or story, so he closed his eyes to summon up some image but failed. Sabishi usually means "lonely," yet in this situation the emotion aroused is more of disappointment. Feeling momentarily inadequate, the speaker suffers from a sense of void.

  Most of the language in this tanka is formal. Me tozuredo, if written in colloquial form, would be me o tojita ga or me o tojita keredomo.

  3. A markedly diary-like poem. We may wonder if this selection deserves the name poetry. Still it does evoke many associations with Takuboku's life. The office of the Asahi newspaper, where Takuboku worked from March 1909 to the end of his life, was near the famous Sumida River. At the end of the Ginza, Tokyo's Fifth Avenue, there used to be a creek leading to the Sumida. The distance from Takuboku's office to the creek or river was not great. Takuboku's job consisted mainly of proofreading, so we can understand his occasional reluctance to report for duty.

  The Japanese in this tanka is markedly colloquial. The first line, except for the formal nite instead of de, is actually conversational Japanese.

  4. Though Sad Toys is a continuation of Takuboku's earlier tanka collection A Handful of Sand (December 1910), there are marked differences between the two volumes. In Sad Toys, Takuboku is more liberal in his use of the colloquial. Generally he adheres to the traditional rhythm of 5-7-5-7-7, but irregular rhythms occur more frequently in this last volume.

  The whimsical mood in this tanka and others (for example, 2,3,8, and 10) is an indication of Takuboku's restlessness and irritation. Some of these tanka must involve recollections from his recent past. He had obtained his position as proofreader with the Asahi in March 1909, but he had incurred considerable debts since coming to Tokyo the previous spring. His wife and mother had expected he would send for them, but he could not afford the traveling expenses, nor could he rent a house to accommodate them. He was himself in arrears with his own lodging expenses. His Romaji Diary contains a copy of the pathetic letter his mother sent him pleading with him to allow her to come to Tokyo as soon as possible (see April 13). Other entries show his humiliation over the snubbing he had to endure at the boardinghouse (see April 18 and 19).

  The whimsy of this tanka is in its illogicality. If we are thirsty and have no money, water may have to do. But the poet perversely goes out. Yet the hour is quite late, and certainly no fruit stores (kudamonoya) would be open then. Such kudamonoya were very rare in Meiji Japan. Fruit was often sold at a vegetable shop, but the poet was searching for a store specializing in fruit. The whimsy, then, may be an indication of irritation and frustration. The poverty-stricken often have an urge to spend the little money they have.

  Kudamonoya is a new word in tanka; it created a fresh sensation in the traditional tanka form. Yukinu is an older word, but "mada okite iru" is quite conversational.

  5. The child in this poem is Kyōko, a daughter born in 1906, but the toy locomotive, a new creation in Meiji Japan, was bought for Takuboku's short-lived son Shin'ichi, born in 1910 but dead in less than a month. Takuboku sold the manuscript of A Handful of Sand for twenty yen in anticipation of the expenses for the child's birth. The train was probably bought soon after the boy's birth with some of the funds received from the publisher. The odd choice of a toy locomotive for his daughter in this tanka may be explained with this background in mind and adds a further element of pathos to the poem. In the December 1910 issue of Subaru, Takuboku published a series of twelve poems entitled "Death," all of them concerning the death of his son. The third poem in the series, printed in one line, Ko no tame ni kaishi omocha no kikansha o moteasobitaru asa no hitotoki translates as follows: "For a while in the morning I played with the toy locomotive I had bought for my child." That the speaker plays alone with the toy underscores the loneliness of the event.

  This tanka must have been written after Takuboku's family came to live with him in Tokyo in June 1909. We can imagine the life the poet was then leading: the family was not happily united, and the bickering between his wife and mother was painful.

  Poems 3 through 114 have no indentation. Takuboku used indentation to give emphasis to certain lines and to show connections between the parts of a poem. It is impossible to translate tanka so that the order of the lines is identical; as a result, the translators have followed neither the punctuation for the most part nor the indentation.

  This tanka is once more a mixture of literary and colloquial styles. Kaerazu is literary; the second and third lines in the Japanese are colloquial. This mixture does not seem incongruous to the Japanese, especially since Meiji was a transitional period in which older Japanese forms were being replaced by modern ones. Even the letters of Sōseki Natsume (1867-1916), the famous novelist, reveal the change in style, his earlier letters in the traditional sōrōbun style, the later letters mostly colloquial.

  6. The speaker has no money with which to buy books. If he had money, it ought to be spent on household goods. The wife knows there is no money, so if her husband keeps repeating his desire to buy books, she will be hurt. Yet he so much desir
ed to make these purchases that he could not help telling her about his hopes. The husband's continual lament on this one occasion may be taken by the wife as an indirect way of criticizing her for using money on less important items and for not understanding his real needs. But the speaker does not intend any such criticism or innuendo. He is exasperated and cannot contain himself; he has to say these words even if they hurt his wife's feelings.

  From another point of view, though, we may feel the speaker is presuming upon his wife's love for him. The situation in this tanka presupposes that the man is confident of his wife's love and that she is tolerant towards him. Otherwise, his words would directly lead to bickering and recrimination. But he is certain this will not happen. In uttering the words to give vent to his exasperation, he is playing the part of a spoiled child pressing its mother to buy something beyond her means. Takuboku is availing himself of his wife's tolerance and love to release these pent-up feelings of frustration. Since Takuboku views himself in this negative way, it is wrong to account for his conduct in terms of mere egoism.

  7. An unbearable anguish in this tanka. The husband and wife who once loved each other are responding at different levels; there is no communication. The family is poor, yet the husband dreams of travel. The wife's scolding of the child is an outlet for her marital frustrations.

  Overwhelmed by the heavy responsibility of supporting his family through literary works which the world did not appreciate, Takuboku sometimes thought of death. Sometimes he wanted to be ill, simply to be relieved of the family burdens. He dreamed of going on trips, as if escaping from Tokyo meant escaping these responsibilities.

  A tanka in this form was quite rare in the history of tanka poetry. The three lines are fragments, each line containing a noun preceded by a qualifier.

  8. The anguish of the first line in the Japanese is memorable. The person in the poem had no place to go, but he did not want others to feel he was loafing. Takuboku probably wished to absent himself from the office at the Asahi, or perhaps he had no special work to do that day but had to escape from his home. Usually a man writes at home, but if he has money, he rents a room at an inn or a hotel in which to do his creative efforts. Yasunari Kawabata (1899-1972), the Nobel Prize winner, had such a hotel room. If one's house is large, the writer may be able to isolate himself in some special part of his home.

  The second and third lines in the Japanese represent one line of prose, but the syllables are arranged in the tanka tradition. The dash which breaks off the sentence of this prose-like poem makes the real point of the tanka moment; the conflict and tension are unstated.

  9. It is early morning, and the man is going out after a night of work. Perhaps the speaker was writing through the night, so his toothache was caused by overwork.

  10. Whether the speaker has been drinking or not is unimportant. He had to walk at midnight because of anxiety. It is a compulsive yet necessary walking. Perhaps he could not write, his creative powers having failed him. Perhaps he needed money or had quarreled with someone. At any rate, the speaker was too overwrought, so he tried to walk it off. But as he was walking, the anxiety returned, and he felt driven to continue onward. As he walks ahead like the Flying Dutchman, he cannot make the return. To walk eternally suggests he is unhappy at home.

  The first two lines in the Japanese are formed as if they were a single line of prose, but the lines contain the traditional number of tanka syllables.

  11. Takuboku's poems are usually filled with sadness, irritation, or anger. But this tanka sings of a rare precious moment, the poet in a peaceful mood.

  In Japanese homes hot water was poured into the rice bowl at the end of a meal and drunk. This custom originated from the practice of Zen priests who after each meal drink the same water they use for cleaning dishes and utensils. This action is symbolic of Zen's refusal to waste. Since Zen priests did not eat fish, everything on each dish could be completely consumed.

  The custom of drinking boiled water after a meal is becoming obsolete. In Takuboku's day, however, many people drank hot water, and in the countryside this was the rule.

  Natsukashiki is a difficult word in Japanese, for its meaning is broad and its nuance varied. To think of an old friend or of one's childhood is natsukashii. Takuboku may have been remembering the winter mornings at Shibutami village when he drank a bowl of hot water after breakfast. In this tanka the winter morning is lovable or precious or dear.

  In the January 1911 issue of the magazine Shusai Bundan, in which this tanka first appeared, the last line reads Yuge yawaraka ni kao ni kakareru. The difference in lines suggests that Takuboku polished the poem by adding the particle ga after the word yuge when he wrote the poem in his notebook with the intention of publishing it as a volume. By adding ga, Takuboku made the rhythm less conventional and more colloquial, that is, more familiar. With ga the verb became kakareri.

  12. If the speaker were worried or irritated, he would not have time to cut his fingernails. Clipping his nails suggests the quiet, peaceful mood the speaker suddenly felt one morning—a fragmentary, ephemeral, tanka-like moment.

  13. Always worried about debts and other family matters, Takuboku must have found real enjoyment in the peaceful interludes of this tanka and the preceding two. We can imagine his pleasure in tanka 13 in which he tries to prolong the experience in order to find temporary relief. The mood is whimsical yet quiet.

  The speaker may be smoking a cigarette or the traditional Japanese kiseru (pipe) with its long thin stem made either of metal or bamboo, the attached firebowl of metal with just enough tobacco for a few puffs.

  Usually popular novels (those involving love affairs) had many illustrations—colored ones at the beginning and many black and white inside. Even novels of real merit had at least one illustration at the front. In this tanka the poet is apparently enjoying a popular novel.

  14. A feeble cry of pain in a moment of sheer misery. Ordinary Japanese would not express their feelings in this way, though a woman would not hesitate to cry. Certainly such feelings expressed publicly by a man are rare. Takuboku was probably returning from night duty or some unsuccessful negotiation. At times he sinks into helpless despair and abject self-pity, many entries in the Romaji Diary testifying to this aspect of Takuboku's character.

  The hour in this tanka is quite late, perhaps past midnight. There are no more streetcars running, and the speaker has no money for an expensive jinrikisha ride; besides, he would have to find a rickshaw station, for rickshaw men do not run along the streets in search of customers. Western readers may be surprised that the man in this tanka may be wearing a hakama (the traditional Japanese skirt) over his dark kimono. If he was returning from his office, he most probably wore a hakama, for in most professions it was an indispensable part of office apparel. He may or may not have worn tabi (socks), for he was not a regular reporter. If he wore tabi, these would be blue-black ones, not the white ones worn by people of higher rank. He wore wooden geta, (wooden clogs), and there were no raincoats to be worn over kimono of this kind. So walking in the rain in such attire was by no means easy. It is true that some businessmen and government employees wore Western apparel, but those of lower status did not. In those days newspaper reporters preferred kimono.

  15. Takuboku was employed by the Tokyo Asahi newspaper at a beginning salary of twenty-five yen per month. For each night of work he received an extra yen, his night duty consisting of proofreading the early morning edition. We can imagine the poet's weariness as he walked up Kiridōshi Slope in the very early morning hours after such tedious work, the slope connecting Ueno Avenue and Yumichō, where Takuboku lived. He took the last streetcar as far as Ueno and then walked about a mile to get to his house.

  One of Takuboku's weaknesses is self-pity. Unlike the typical Japanese, he does not hesitate to express this type of emotion. This tanka itself is not too effective, for going up a slope at night is not unusual—many workers do so every night. Takuboku felt his work did not deserve him; he felt he was a
bove such menial labor.

  16. A unique, clever tanka. When one drinks too much, the head becomes heavy, but Takuboku feels this heaviness in his brain comes from the odor of the sake itself that has immersed itself in the brain to make it heavy. When one drinks excessively, one smells from alcohol, but Takuboku felt his own brain smelled of sake. At this moment the speaker is satiated, sick of sake.

  Takuboku might drink alone or attend a drinking party and then continue drinking by himself afterward. From this poem we do not know the actual situation. Because he was poor, he drank either at cheap restaurants or bars.

  17. The poet who drinks is traditional in China (for example, Li Po [701-762]) and Japan. The Man'yō-shū (ca. 759) contains poems on the pleasures of alcohol. Ōtomo no Tabito (665-731) writes:

  Rather than indulge in futile worries,

  How much better to drink a cup of unrefined sake!

  (Shirushi naki mono o omowazuwa hitotsuki no/

  Nigoreru sake o nomubeku arurashi)

  Rather than say clever things,

  How much better to drink and sob!

  (Sakashimi to mono yū yori wa sake nomite/

  Einaki surushi masaritarurashi)

  But in Takuboku's poem the drinking is not the pleasure it should be; he reveals only his remorse and self-hatred because of his physical weakness.

  The sake in this tanka is the traditional Japanese drink of fermented rice. Before the Tokugawa era (1600-1867), sake, as noted in Ōtomo no Tabito's poem, was not as clear as it is today. Beer was brewed in Japan during Takuboku's time, but it was not a common drink because it was too costly and most Japanese were not used to its bitterness. Only a few could afford the expense of whiskey. Shōchū is a very strong ill-tasting liquor mostly distilled from sake lees or potatoes— shōchū the cheapest sake. We can imagine the poverty-stricken Takuboku asking for an advance in salary in order to spend it for drinking and whoring. A small bottle of sake at a cheap bar or restaurant would have been fifteen to twenty sen; one shō (two quarts) would have cost about a yen in those days.