Fukushima ふくしま

The following are twenty-five of fifty haiku from a collection by Nagase Tōgo that won Japan’s Kadokawa Haiku Award in 2011. See the Japanese announcement of this award in the Asahi Shimbun. Translations first published in Modern Haiku 43:2, Summer 2012, pages 71 to 76. Selected poems also appear, with a brief introduction, on the Haiku International Association website. These poems, with Italian translations, also appear on Lucia Fontana’s “Cha No Keburi blog (and here), together with a selection of my own earthquake haiku.

The following are twenty-five of fifty haiku from a collection by Nagase Tōgo that won Japan’s Kadokawa Haiku Award in 2011. See the Japanese announcement of this award in the Asahi Shimbun. Translations first published in Modern Haiku 43:2, Summer 2012, pages 71 to 76. Selected poems also appear, with a brief introduction, on the Haiku International Association website. These poems, with Italian translations, also appear on Lucia Fontana’s “Cha No Keburi blog (and here), together with a selection of my own earthquake haiku.

Nagase Tōgo 永瀬十悟

Fukushima ふくしま

2011 Kadokawa Haiku Award 2011 年角川俳句大賞

translated by Emiko Miyashita and Michael Dylan Welch

激震や水仙に飛ぶ屋根瓦

gekishin ya suisen ni tobu yanegawara

severe earthquake—

roof tiles flying

to the narcissus


打ち続くなゐのハンマー砂あらし

uchitsuzuku nai no hanmā sunaarashi

the endless hammering

of earthquakes—

sand storm


凍返る救援のヘリ加速せよ

itekaeru kyūen no heri kasoku seyo

freezing cold—

rescue helicopter,

hurry up, hurry up


無事ですと電話つながる夜の椿

buji desu to denwa tsunagaru yo no tsubaki

I’m alive, talking

on the reconnected phone . . .

night camellia


淡雪や給水の列角曲がる

awayuki ya kyūsui no retsu kado magaru

light snow—

a queue for drinking water

bends at the corner


戻らない子猫よ放射線降る夜

modoranai koneko yo hōshasen furu yo

the kitten still missing . . .

the fallout

into the night


産土を汚すのはなに梅真白

ubusuna o kegasu no wa nani ume mashiro

what is violating

our guardian deity?

pure white plum blossoms


燕来て人消える街被爆中

tsubame kite hito kieru machi hibakuchū

swallows arrive

and people disappear from the town

radiation exposure


大なゐの後の春泥生臭し

ōnai no ato no shundei namagusashi

after the earthquake

the spring mud smells

fishy


ちちははの墓石は無事牡丹の芽

chichihaha no hakaishi wa buji botan no me

father and mother’s

tombstone is intact—

buds on a peony


県境にとどまる宅急便と春

kenkyō ni todomaru takkyūbin to haru

at the prefecture border

delivery trucks and spring

waiting


パンジーに水遣り忘れ震災後

panjī ni mizu yariwasure shinsaigo

forgotten to water

the pansies . . .

after the disaster


流されてもうないはずの橋朧

nagasarete mō naihazu no hashi oboro

washed away

the bridge that is no longer there

in the mist


春の月家は余震に耐へてをり

haru no tsuki ie wa yoshin ni taete ori

spring moon—

our house is bearing

the aftershock


残る子と避難する子と花種蒔く

nokoruko to hinansuruko to hanadane maku

a child remaining

a child leaving

we sow flower seeds together


復旧の貨車三十輌梨の花

fukkyū no kasha sanjūryō nashi no hana

thirty cars

in the restored supply train—

pear blossoms


誰も居ぬ花の校庭放射線

dare mo inu hana no kōtei hōshasen

an empty schoolyard

surrounded by cherry blossoms

radioactive rays


しやぼん玉見えぬ恐怖を子に残すな

shabondama mienu kyōfu o ko ni nokosuna

soap bubbles . . .

don’t pass on the invisible fear

to our children


蜂笑ふ手に負へぬもの飼うべからず

hachi warau te ni oenu mono kau bekarazu

a bee smiles

never keep anything

you cannot handle


避難所に春来るキャッチボールかな

hinanjo ni haru kuru kyatchbōru kana

spring comes

to a refugee camp . . .

playing catch


風評の苺せつなき甘さかな

fūhyō no ichigo setsunaki amasa kana

rumors of contamination

the strawberry’s

painful sweetness


牡丹園瓦礫置場となつてをり

botanen garekiokiba to natte ori

the peony garden

has become a depository

for debris


仕事場の更地となりぬ柿若葉

shigotoba no sarachi to narinu kakiwakaba

my workplace

becomes an empty lot

persimmons in young leaves


みごもるといふ知らせあり虹かかる

migomoru to iu shirase ari niji kakaru

news of her pregnancy

the rainbow

hangs in the air


山河青し沈黙の声聴きにゆく

sanga aoshi chinmoku no koe kiki ni yuku

mountains and rivers

so green, I go to listen

to the voice of silence

With his collection “Fukushima” (ふくしま) on the topic of the March 2011 earthquake and nuclear disaster, Nagase Tōgo (永瀬十悟) won the 57th Kadokawa Haiku Award (角川俳句賞). This award, dating from 1955 and offering a first prize of ¥300,000 (about $3,700), is the most remunerative competition in Japanese haiku. Prizes are given annually for a titled unpublished collection of fifty haiku. Previous winners include luminaries such as Murakoshi Kaseki, Suzuki Eiko, Tanaka Hiroaki, Yuki Noriko, Yamada Mizue, and Ōishi Etsuko. Popular poet Mayuzumi Madoka won the Kadokawa’s Encouraging Award in 1994, which launched her career. The 2011 judges were Ikeda Sumiko, Masaki Yūko, Hasegawa Kai, and Ozawa Minoru.

Nagase was born in Sukagawa City, Fukushima prefecture, on March 29, 1953, and still resides there. Writing haiku since his twenties, he joined the Kikkō (桔槹) haiku group in 1988 and is now a dojin and involved in its haiku magazine. He is a member of the Association of Haiku Poets. His honors include the 56th Fukushima Prefecture Literature Award for Haiku (judged by Kaneko Tōta) and the 10th Kikkō Award.