Three poems by Nakahara Chuya, translated from the Japanese by Jeffrey Angles

Double by Jona Fine

In every country, there are poets so influential and well-respected that every lover of literature devours their work. In America, Whitman or Ginsberg. In France, Rimbaud or Eluard. And in Japan, Nakahara Chūya—a brilliant, sentimental modernist who died from tuberculosis at the premature age of thirty. In the 1930s, Chūya became so infatuated with the new experimental verse of the Dadaists and other Japanese modernists that he soon began writing his own avant-garde poems. His work displays a variety of elements culled from his passion for literature, both in its older, traditional, romantic forms, and its newer, modernist manifestations—experimental, world-weary, and decadent. His style interrupts classical forms with modern turns of phrase, dialect, onomatopoeia, repeated rhythms, and other unusual elements, compelling the poetic language of his era to accommodate the eclectic nature of real, lived language. Because Chūya’s poetic voice is so distinctive, his poetry has become an undisputed fixture in the halls of the modern Japanese literary canon, so famous that nearly all of it has been set to music. These translations are part of a National Endowment for the Arts-sponsored project by Jeffrey Angles to translate Chūya’s collected work into English.

The poems here will appear in a collection of Jeffrey Angles’ translations of Nakahara Chūya to be published by Penguin Classics in May 2026.

This Child

(From Songs from Days Gone By, published posthumously in 1937)

when ghosts go back to the heavens
here, this child stays
so pale in
the field

when black clouds streak the sky
here, this child waits
weeping silver
tears

            if the Earth would just split in two
            & one half would take its leave
            I’d take a seat on the other half
            & absorb the blue skies above

granite boulders
seashore skies
temple roof
ocean’s end

この小児

コボルト空に往(ゆき)交(か)へば、
野に
蒼白の
この小児。

黒雲空にすぢ引けば、
この小児
搾((しぼ))る涙は
銀の液……

     地球が二つに割れゝばいい、
     そして片方は洋行すればいい、
     すれば私はも(ヽ)う(ヽ)片(ヽ)方(ヽ)に腰掛けて
     青空をばかり――

花崗の巌(いはほ)や
浜の空
み寺の屋根や
海の果て……

Tobacco and Manteau in Love

(From The Dada Notebook, 1924)

Tobacco and Manteau fell in love
Just as it should have been
They were two of a kind
Tobacco male, Manteau female
One day, they threw themselves
Off a cliff in a tragic love-suicide
Tobacco was heavy but buoyed by wind
Manteau was thin but light
They took the same amount of time
From the cliff to the surface of the sea
God observed and declared this incident
Utterly ordinary in a universe of relativity
And handed out leaflets in heaven
The couple saw this and when they learned
This all had to do with their happiness
Their love was ruined for all time

タバコとマントの恋

タバコとマントが恋をした
その筈だ
タバコとマントは同類で
タバコが男でマントが女だ
或時二人が身投心中したが
マントは重いが風を含み
タバコは細いが軽かつたので
崖の上から海面に
到着するまでの時間が同じだつた
神様がそれをみて
全く相対界のノーマル事件だといつて
天国でビラマイタ
二人がそれをみて
お互の幸福であつたことを知つた時
恋は永久に破れてしまつた。

Self-Destruction

(From The 1924 Notebook, 1924-1928)

my parents’ letter blew bubbles
love saw sky, shoulders shook,
I swallowed a gray walking stick

step     step

            step     step

                        step     step

                                                step

the fountain pen travels on foot
oh, electrical pole, bow your head!
the skin of the stomach folds
I glimpsed a right hand beneath the thigh

everything, everywhere, all wooden clogs
bellows! bellows! speak your piece
my heart swells upon the earthen bridge
I’m just used goods so let me knock down the price

自滅

親の手紙が泡吹いた
恋は空みた肩揺つた
俺は灰色のステッキを呑んだ

足 足
  足 足
    足 足
         足
万年筆の徒歩旅行
電信棒よ御辞儀しろ
お腹(ナカ)の皮がカシヤカシヤする
胯の下から右手みた

一切合切みんな下駄
フイゴよフイゴよ口をきけ
土橋の上で胸打つた
ヒネモノだからおまけ致します

✶✶✶✶

Jeffrey ANGLES is a poet, translator, and professor of Japanese literature at Western Michigan University. His collection of original poetry in Japanese won the Yomiuri Prize for Literature, a rare honor accorded only a few non-native speakers since the award began in 1949. He believes strongly in the role of translators as activists and has focused on translating socially engaged, feminist, and queer writers. Among his recent translations are Orikuchi Shinobu’s modernist classic, The Book of the Dead (which won two awards for translation, the Miyoshi Prize and the MLA’s Scaglione Prize), the feminist writer Itō Hiromi’s long novel The Thorn-Puller, the queer poet Takahashi Mutsuo’s poetry collection Only Yesterday, and the science fiction author Kayama Shigeru’s 1950s novels Godzilla and Godzilla Raids Again. Through National Endowment for the Arts support, he is completing a translation of the collected works of the major 1930s Japanese modernist poet Nakahara Chūya.

Jona Fine is a non binary photographer, poet, and performance artist. Jona uses the gender neutral “they” pronouns. Jona’s artistic endeavors as of late involve photographing lots of eggs, and sometimes potatoes. They have also been nurturing Open Circle, a they body who is so full of trauma they rarely leave the under of their coffee table.  Jona currently works the graveyard shifts as a crisis worker for a lgbtq youth suicide hotline.