Omote
絡まった電線がほどけなくて
karamatta densen ga hodoke nakute
屋上に夜明けの晩のチャイムが響く
okujou ni yoake no ban no chaimu ga hibiku
帰り道、じりりと左の方で
kaeri michi, jiriri to hidari no hou de
ベルの音が聞いてほしいになった
beru no ne ga kiite hoshisou ni natta
小さな窓があり
chiisana mado ga ari
真っ赤な屋根の
makka na yane no
電話ボックスが手を招き
denwa bokkusu ga te wo maneki
でたらめな予測で
detarame na yokuyou de
声をかけてきたのです
koe wo kakete kita no desu
沼地とした梅木
numeri to shita umeki
穏やかな不協和音
odayaka na fukyou waon
ガチャリと折れる腕
gachari to oreru ude
箱の中の鵺の鳴く声に
hako no naka no nue no naku koe ni
耳をすましてはいけません
mimi wo sumashite wa ikemasen
枝のない電子が流し込まれて
eda no nai denshi ga nagashi komarete
犯された合目的的恐怖病
okasareta goumokutekiteki hemofobia
手回しの自衛意識が鎖落ち
temawashi no jigaishiki ga kusari ochi
底なしの静寂に骨身をつかす
sokonashi no seijaku ni honemi wo tsukasu
見繕う蝶光に
mitsunaru choukou ni
気づかないまま
kizukanai mama
光反り遁の赤い火が
hikari soriton no akai hi ga
出まかせの衝動を
demakase no shoudou wo
骨目かしてきたのです
honomekashite kita no desu
不明瞭な憂い
fumeiryou na urei
歯と歯が重なった音
ha to ha ga kasanatta oto
ガチャリとしまる喉
gachari to shimaru nodo
三寸五分の煙突の方
sansun gobu no entotsu no hou
目を合わせてはいけません
me wo awasete wa ikemasen
小さな窓があり
chiisana mado ga ari
真っ赤な屋根の
makka na yane no
電話ボックスが手を招き
denwa bokkusu ga te wo maneki
でたらめな予測で
detarame na yokuyou de
声をかけてきたのです
koe wo kakete kita no desu
沼地とした梅木
numeri to shita umeki
穏やかな不協和音
odayaka na fukyou waon
ガチャリと折れる腕
gachari to oreru ude
箱の中の鵺の鳴く声に
hako no naka no nue no naku koe ni
不明瞭な憂い
fumeiryou na urei
歯と歯が重なった音
ha to ha ga kasanatta oto
ガチャリとしまる喉
gachari to shimaru nodo
三寸五分の煙突の方
sansun gobu no entotsu no hou
二度と聞こえはしないのです
nido to kikoe wa shinai no desu
Surface
Tangled wires just won’t come undone
On the rooftop, the dawn chime rings out
On my way home, I can hear, finally,
The sound of a bell from the left side calling out
There’s a tiny window
With a bright red roof
A phone booth beckons me
With a wild guess,
It called out my voice
In the murky slough of ume trees,
A gentle dissonance persists.
Arms snapping with a clatter,
Don’t listen too closely to
The voice of the creature in the box.
Electrons without branches rush in,
A violated purpose-driven panic disease.
The self-defense instinct unwinds,
Gripping tight in the endless silence.
In an attempt to arrange the butterfly light,
Unaware of it at all,
A red flame of light reflects,
Igniting impulses from nowhere,
Taking hold of my bones.
Unclear sorrow remains,
Like teeth grinding on each other.
A throat snapping shut with a clink,
Towards the three-inch-high chimney—
Don’t dare to meet my eyes.
There’s a tiny window
With a bright red roof.
A phone booth beckons me,
With a wild guess,
It called out my voice.
In the murky slough of ume trees,
A gentle dissonance persists.
Arms snapping with a clatter,
Don't listen too closely to
The unclear sorrow,
Like teeth grinding on each other.
A throat snapping shut with a clink,
Towards the three-inch-high chimney—
You’ll never hear it again.