[Japan] Appreciation of love poems "I..." by Kikuo Takano
[Japan] Kikuo Takano
I said it is right,
You said: "I am also right."
I said it was left,
You also said it was left.
That's it, you and I,
full of tears.
Because everything is too consistent,
we can never fall in love,
can never sleep together.
Today,
between you and me,
there is only one wonderful thing,
traveling like a shuttle.
Ah! Even more wonderful than that wonderful shuttle,
The endless silk thread,
weaving, weaving...
At this moment,
At the other end,
The silk ball that affects the heart and lungs,
is unwinding endlessly!
To this day,
has no choice but to rewind it...
(Translated by Luo Xingdian)
Takano Kikuo (1927——), Japan's post-war " Wasteland poet. Born in Niigata Prefecture. At the beginning of his career in poetry, he wrote surrealist poems. In 1953, he turned to the "Wasteland School" (also known as the "Wasteland School"). The main poetry collections include "Gyro", "Existence", "Collected Poems of Takano Kikuo", etc. In addition, he also wrote many choruses and hymn lyrics. His poems deliberately explore the true meaning of life and are diaries of his thoughts and emotions, so they show a true and natural style.
"I..." is selected from "The Collected Poems of Takano Kikuo". This is a poem that expresses regret and regret. It records a beautiful mistake in life, a miss that will never be reincarnated, and a loss that can never be recovered. Why? Why is there such an emotional experience that leaves endless melancholy? The poem begins with the simplicity of expression and the depth of implications: "I said it was the right, / you said: 'I am also the right'. / I said it was the left, / You also said it was left. / Just like that, you and I, / Full of tears, / Because everything is too consistent, / We can’t love each other.” The cause of a misguided love tragedy is so simple: the two are too consistent. However, the complex and subtle psychological mechanism of love is reflected here: the love of novelty. Perhaps the sense of novelty can better prevent sudden changes and upheavals in people's emotions. Especially for first lovers who have never experienced the pain and vicissitudes of love, the feeling of love often does not arise from familiar acquaintances, but will sprout from the novelty of encounters. "Everything is too consistent" between the two people. This is a kind of harmony that is difficult to find. However, it is precisely this kind of harmony that often fails to arouse a person's fresh feelings and ignores the beauty of harmony, just like a rose with thorns in the distance is often more beautiful than the other. The soft roses around you are more fresh and therefore more attractive and even tempting. In this way, such simple and complex psychological factors of love make us "cannot love each other in the end". Things have changed. After some time in life, I have had several emotional experiences. Perhaps I have experienced the pain and suffering of disharmony, and finally understood that "when we were young, we didn't know how to love." I turned back to open the love storehouse and retrieved the peace and tranquility. Memory, then fell into the bitter sea of ??regret, and lived a life "filled with tears".
"Now, / between me and you, / there is only one wonderful thing, / going back and forth like a shuttle." That is thinking, that is reading! Your thoughts and my thoughts form a shuttle on the emotional machine. This shuttle of longing is constantly moving. It is the long and lingering thought: "More wonderful than that wonderful shuttle, / The endless threads are weaving, weaving..." The shuttle of longing weaves a piece of love, a ball of love pain, and a piece of love's sadness. "At this moment, / at the other end, / the silk ball that touches the heart and lungs is unwinding endlessly! / To this day, / can only be rolled up...". The same lovesickness and two pairs of sorrows. On the other end, in the other person's heart, there is also a bitter lingering feeling, just like a "thread that touches the heart and lungs." The phrase "Today, all I have to do is wind it up" conveys a heavy sense of helplessness.
The whole poem expresses a feeling of lovesickness woven with regret. The deeper the lovesickness, the heavier the regret, so the poem is filled with a heavy sense of sadness. Looking back at the title of the poem at this point, a thick and hearty word "I" condenses the unexpressible pain at the bottom of life, followed by a lead-like dark and profound "...", making this "I..." ..." The word "I" is more like a sigh of regret, declaring that "I" is dominated by regret, an "I" with endless suffering, and an "I" with endless regret. Self and pathos become one here. Regret and love are bitter, that is "I".
The poem distills a simple and universal story of emotional derailment. The surface of the poem is very approachable, but it has a profound psychological structure. It reflects the subtle and complex psychology of love in its simplicity, which is extremely real and natural.
They failed to fall in love because they were familiar with each other, regretted it because they missed it, and fell in love with each other because of their regrets. This kind of emotional process is full of human touch, and the whole process of the story, or the beginning and end of the tragic love between the two, is It was condensed and purified by the poet into a concise three-part formula, following the "past", "now" and "now" in time, unfolding each stage of emotional development: missing, lovesickness, and sorrow. Gradually it goes deeper, and the sad emotions become stronger and stronger. Finally, the readers feel helpless for the poetic protagonist in the helpless voice of "Today, I have no choice but to wind it up..." heart of.
Ellipses are often used in poems. From the title of the poem to the sentences in the poem, there are appropriate and meaningful uses of ellipsis. Every use of ellipsis is the poet's unique way of using finite words. Pushing to infinity, turning the tangible into the intangible, pushing the "now" into the distant future, the elasticity and tension of poetry are realized in such an unsuccinct "...".