Kenji Miyazawa: An Asura in Spring

by Kenji Miyazawa, Ruriko Suzuki (Translator), David Chandler (Introduction)

Kenji Miyazawa (1896-1933) was born in Iwate Prefecture and by fifteen he was writing competently in the 31-syllable Waka form. The second half of this book contains the original Japanese poems. The first half consists of the translations by Ruriko Suzuki with introductions by David Chandler. Publication was supported by the Ministry of Education, Science, Sports and Culture of Japan.

Genres: Poetry, Japanese Literature

240 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1924

About the author

His name is written as 宮沢賢治 in Japanese, and translated as 宮澤賢治 in Traditional Chinese.

Kenji Miyazawa (1896-1933) was born in Iwate, one of the northernmost prefectures in Japan. In high school, he studied Zen Buddhism and developed a lifelong devotion to the Lotus Sutra, a major influence on his writing. After graduating from an agricultural college, he moved to Tokyo to begin his writing career but had to return home to care for a sick sister. He remained in his home in Iwate for the rest of his life. One of his best-known works is the novel Night on the Galactic Railroad, which was adapted into anime in the late twentieth century, as were many of his short stories. Much of his poetry is still popular in Japan today.

Reviews

[Cathrine · Rating 3 out of 5]

"so the records and histories,
or the histories of the earth,
together with their various data
(under the temporal, spatial restrictions of karma),
are no more than what we perceive."

[Psycheinhell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Magnifique recueil, que j'ai longtemps quêté pour être tombée, au détour d'une lecture, sur une citation extraite de la préface, laquelle m'avait fait durable impression —
"Le phénomène appelé moi
est une lumière bleue
issue de l'hypothétique lampe
lampe organique que traversent flux et reflux du courant
lampe karmique qui jamais ne s'éteint
— un corps complexe, un composé de tous les spectres —
qui avec les paysages et chacun des êtres clignote sans cesse
c'est une lumière bleue
la lampe disparaît et la lumière persiste"

Entre ces pages d'un papier ivoire qui mériterait pour l'occasion d'être rebaptisé neige, la voix du poète japonais bouddhiste s'élevant sous la Voie Lactée.
Le Printemps pour les pensées entrelacées à la sève, pour le regard sur la nature. L'Ashura, pour ces démons intérieurs que le poète ne cèle pas, sinon à la sœur mourante dont il pleure le départ, dans la plus belle et la plus poignante partie du recueil. Le printemps, alors, et une image, qui ne me quittera plus, de neige fondue recueillie par un frère...