Tanikawa Shuntaro / 谷川俊太郎 – Ⅳ

Before Waking Up
 

 

 

I hear a heavy sliding door grating open.

Someone has come into the house

so early in the morning.

 

What’d he come for?

Has he come on silent feet

to see me?

 

I wish he’d come to me right away –

I’ve been here

ever since I was born.

 

As far back as I try to remember

I can’t recall his face.

I recall only the grating of the sliding door.

 

Cane chairs, hanging scrolls, sieves and flower pots

were piled up in the old storehouse.

We used to play hide-and-seek there.

 

Is he the me of those days

who has just entered this house,

speechless?