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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,