Heiichi Sugiyama Poems

The voices of a huge mob
explode all at once

Something small and white rides the wind
flying high into the sky

On earth three men are running
one has seized the moment to run away from home
one loses himself in pursuit of the thing flying in the sky
one dashes straight ahead, aiming to go home
will the prodigal son be allowed to return home?

In the blue of the blue sky a bird is
slowly walking
...

I pushed a call-button on the gate
that must have rung a bell
a lamp at the entryway came on
and I heard "who is it?"
all of a sudden a dog began to bark
a child began to cry
a voice, perhaps a mother's, scolded
I sensed something tumbling down onto the floor
a plane roared passing above my head
I collected myself with a deep breath and said
"I am Mr. Sugiyama."
...

Window glass is artful
the sun sets and
the window turns into a mirror
to show that the person I thought someone else
is actually my own self
...

a piece of waste paper all crumpled up
that's me
trying to get back to its original shape
it rustles and mumbles

a beam that supports a house
that's me
in the deep of night when the family is sound asleep
it squeaks

a culvert under asphalt
that's me
in the deep of night when no one is moving
it sings
...

creases of a paper crane
creases of a paper plane
creases of age

every one of these is
a remnant of one flight in the sky
...

The wind in the outfield is cold on my cheeks and
I am a centerfielder, all alone

I am far away from infield commotions, and

I pay attention only to
the one that comes flying high into the center
...

One topmost windowpane always attracted my eyes as I passed by the building. He was the first to feel a premonition of dawn and reflect the eastern sky. He also held the evening glow as the sun was about to set, sinking the town into dusk. And he embraced warm lamplight inside when the night finally stripped away the daylight.
...

All I could do was dash on

knowing the pain to come
I struck with all my might
then, what was I to do?
I was sent flying
hitting the wall once again
that moment
a path, totally unexpected,
opened straight up
...

Lost in a dictionary
I could not get where I should have been
so I invited myself to someone else's home
sipped a cup of tea, and came home
...

The station was old and covered with soot. Its window panes were also sooty. A station worker would clean them up carefully, but they would soon be as sooty as before. One night I saw one pane beautifully clear, gleamingly showing even the darkness outside. As I came closer, I realized the glass had been broken and removed, which attained what the sooty pane had long wished for, strived for, and moaned over. A freezing wintry wind was blowing in from the darkness outside.
...