the sky has become a cold fire
空がつめたい火事となっている
ants keep marching toward the moonlight in the womb
胎内の月光へと蟻がつづく
washing hands stained with loneliness
さびしさで汚れた両手を洗う
can’t Stop Coughing,
it’s become a Part of the Night
咳止マズ、夜ノ一部トナル
with the child still hooked up to the IV
点滴につながれたまま子といる
on my palms the lonely smell of rain
掌にさびしい雨の匂い
drenched in rain without even a reason to die
死ぬ理由もなく雨にぬれる
in my empty room the sea is visible
何もない部屋に海がみえる
my empty hands become the sea
何もない手のひらが海になる
having a Meal with the Dead Child
亡クシタ児ト食事シテイル
leaving one shoe where the sky begins
空のはじめに片方の靴を置く
wanting to Live a little longer i Face the Rain
アトスコシ生キタイ雨ヲ受ケル
the Color of the Ocean after Drawing Blood
採血ノアトノ海ノ色
when I leave the hospital room
a vending machine at night
病室を出れば夜の自販機
leaving footsteps in the hospital
院内に足音を置く
the girl’s scent embracing death
少女の匂いに抱かれる死
I leave it by the bed
a gunshot in the night
枕もとに置く夜の銃声
the butterfly wings in “for example”
「たとえば」のなかの蝶の翅
soaking scattered alphabets
散らばった文字を濡らす
butterfly in the sleep deprivation of death
死の足りない睡眠のなかの蝶
going to see
the color of the ocean
a father and son
海の色に会いに行く父子
becoming a hairpin for the sky
day moon
空のかんざしとなって昼の月
a mother singing in the hospital at night
夜の病院の母のうたごえ
going back for something he forgot
the child counts the snow
忘れ物取りに行く児が雪を数える
February’s boy becoming sea white
二月の少年海白くなる
leaving the smell of death on the surface of the pool
プールの水面に死の匂い置く
I make the sea with pretty origami paper
海をきれいな折り紙でつくる
the corridor to the sea is transparent
海までの廊下がすきとおる
walking to the observatory
August’s boy
天文台まで歩く八月の少年
the blindingly bright color of the sea
失明のあかるい海のいろ
not holding hands
winter shadows
手をつなぐことなく冬の影
give me a tomorrow I won’t remember
おもいでにならない明日をください
the smell of butterflies burning the Moon with an ornate initial
蝶の匂い燃やす花文字と月
suffering toward midnight the last train of roses
夜半へと苦悩するバラの終電
leaving pieces of “me” in the summer shower
「私」の欠片を夕立に置く
fading in the depths of February
the sound of rain
二月の底にきえる雨の音
morning goodbye from a balance beam
平均台でいう朝のさようなら
on half my hand the summer clouds
てのひらの半分にのせて夏の雲
Kazuyoshi Nishitai (b. 1972) won the 7th Hosai Award. In 2017, he published a haiku collection, Sea Light in the Window (窓の海光).
(Poems and information taken from: https://www.xn--evqz9gt1mmyvjro.net/nisitai-kazuyosi/.
Additional poems taken from https://gatangoton.base.shop/items/49476963
and https://kanchu-haiku.typepad.jp/blog/2017/11/%E5%8D%81%E4%BA%94%E5%8F%A5%E6%8A%84%E5%87%BA%E8%A5%BF%E8%BA%B0%E3%81%8B%E3%81%9A%E3%82%88%E3%81%97%E5%8F%A5%E9%9B%86%E7%AA%93%E3%81%AE%E6%B5%B7%E5%85%89.html.)
Entry No. 1 