Ishigaki Rin / 石垣りん – Ⅳ

A View of the Sea 

 

 

The sea isn’t blue,

it only looks blue.

 

I’m a scarlet sea,

only, I don’t look like a sea.

 

Since I was born, skin

has wrapped my entire body,

always agitated, quivering;

and rolled, rolled in

upon my form,

everything that surrounded me,

upon every shore.

 

But however it tried,

my agitated blood couldn’t separate from me

and rise to

what’s called the land.

 

The sun-warmed epidermis,

the transient temperature,

the dark part spreading inside—

the depths of cold ancestral blood.

 

No, I won’t say any more

what I am.

What I chewed and crushed at table was rock,

what I talked to in the town was sand,

what I hugged in the forest was wind,

that’s all.

 

I put my hands to my face,

it begins to agitate violently,

and in the setting sun,

darkening,

turning invisible,

a woman.