August 6, 1945
Hovering between Life and Death
Under bluish white sparkles
My skin sloughs off.
In my blood-soaked eyes
the sun is dark.
I flee over the gritty sand,
supporting faltering legs
with a bamboo stick.
Her torn flesh exposing bone,
a mother crouches on the road,
grasping a dead infant
and coughing up something black
It's hot! It's hot!
Mother!"
His eyes smashed,
clothes burnt by the flash,
a junior high student writhes on the ground
blowing bloody bubbles.
Hair standing straight up,
arms raised to the sky.
Alive or dead?
Male or female?
Just a gray face floating in the river
("Hiroshima" On Nakamura
From the Poem Collection Under the A-bomb Cloud)
Survivors fled through the rubble of their city. Burned severely by the fierce heat rays of the atomic bomb, their skin that had been blown off by the blast hung from them. Ignorant of what had happened to them, covered with soot and dust from the fires, barely clothed in bloody, rags of clothing, they staggered this way and that looking for a place of safety. Few of the people that finally made it out of the blazing city found bed, treatment or medicine. They simply lay down wherever they could. "Give me water!" "Water!" The August heat abetted the maggots swarming in their wounds. Many died just like that, desperate for water, without ever seeing their families again.
"
My skin sloughs off.
In my blood-soaked eyes
the sun is dark.
I flee over the gritty sand,
supporting faltering legs
with a bamboo stick.
Her torn flesh exposing bone,
a mother crouches on the road,
grasping a dead infant
and coughing up something black
It's hot! It's hot!
Mother!"
His eyes smashed,
clothes burnt by the flash,
a junior high student writhes on the ground
blowing bloody bubbles.
Hair standing straight up,
arms raised to the sky.
Alive or dead?
Male or female?
Just a gray face floating in the river
("Hiroshima" On Nakamura
From the Poem Collection Under the A-bomb Cloud)
Survivors fled through the rubble of their city. Burned severely by the fierce heat rays of the atomic bomb, their skin that had been blown off by the blast hung from them. Ignorant of what had happened to them, covered with soot and dust from the fires, barely clothed in bloody, rags of clothing, they staggered this way and that looking for a place of safety. Few of the people that finally made it out of the blazing city found bed, treatment or medicine. They simply lay down wherever they could. "Give me water!" "Water!" The August heat abetted the maggots swarming in their wounds. Many died just like that, desperate for water, without ever seeing their families again.
"
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий