Tag: Chika Sagawa

by Chika Sagawa
(Trans. by Sawako Nakayasu)

 

The blue officer corps wearing military caps of cloud stands in line.

From a bottomless pit they lop off the neck of night.

Sky and trees layer atop one another and seem to be fighting.

The antenna traverses above, running.

Are the flower petals floating in space?

At noon, two suns run up the arena.

The rusty red emotions of summer will soon sever our love.

from The Collected Poems of Chika Sagawa Find more by Chika Sagawa at the library

Copyright © 2015 Chika Sagawa
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.

by Chika Sagawa
(Trans. by Sawako Nakayasu)

 

A fence dirtied by dust continues,

Leaves turn from red to yellow.

Recollections accumulate upon the path of memory. As if spreading white linen.

Seasons hold four keys, slip off the stairs. The entrance is shut again.

The green tree is hollow. When hit, it sounds.

While night sneaks out.

That day,

I am sad like the skin of the boy in the sky.

Eternity cuts between us.

I lose countless images to that other side.

from The Collected Poems of Chika Sagawa Find more by Chika Sagawa at the library

Copyright © 2015 Chika Sagawa
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.

by Chika Sagawa
(Trans. by Sawako Nakayasu)

 

On the street corner, the sun destroys the love, held between glass wings, that people had carefully passed along.

The sky stands facing the window, darkening with every turn of the ventilator.

The leaves are in the sky, drawing a single line, as the rooftops lean in.

Trains crawl along the bulging street, the sailor’s collar rotating between blue creases in the sky.

This finely dressed summer procession passes by and crumbles into the flask.

The fruits of our hearts rain happy shadows.

from The Collected Poems of Chika Sagawa Find more by Chika Sagawa at the library

Copyright © 2015 Chika Sagawa
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.