11.3
Here is my work in progress translation of Kenji Miyazawa's "11.3" often affectionately called "Ame ni mo makezu". Original first, translation second
雨ニモマケズ
風ニモマケズ
雪ニモ夏ノ暑サニモマケヌ
丈夫ナカラダヲモチ
慾ハナク
決シテ瞋ラズ
イツモシヅカニワラツテヰル
一日ニ玄米四合ト
味噌ト少シノ野菜ヲタベ
アラユルコトヲ
ジブンヲカンジヨウニ入レズニ
ヨクミキキシワカリ
ソシテワスレズ
野原ノ松ノ林ノ蔭ノ
小サナ萱ブキノ小屋ニヰテ
東ニ病気ノ子供アレバ
行ツテ看病シテヤリ
西ニ疲レタ母アレバ
行ツテソノ稲ノ束ヲ負ヒ
南ニ死ニサウナ人アレバ
行ツテコハガラナクテモイヽトイヒ
北ニケンクワヤソシヨウガアレバ
ツマラナイカラヤメロトイヒ
ヒドリノトキハナミダヲナガシ
サムサノナツハオロオロアルキ
ミンナニデクノボートヨバレ
ホメラレモセズ
クニモサレズ
サウイフモノニ
ワタシハナリタイ
Neither to rain
Nor to wind
Neither to snow nor the heat of summer does he yield.
He is strong in body
And without desire.
Never rising in anger,
He is always smiling quietly.
He eats each day four “go” of unpolished rice,
Miso, and a few vegetables.
Seeing and hearing rightly
Everything around him,
He keeps selfish impulse at bay
And forgets nothing.
He lives in a small, thatched hut
At the edge of a field in the shade of a pine forest.
If, in the east, there is a child fallen ill,
He will go to care for it.
If, in the west, there is a work-weary mother,
He will go to shoulder her sheaves of rice.
If, in the south, there lies a person dying,
He will go and tell them, “There is no need to fear.”
If, in the north, there are quarrels or disputes,
He will beg them to stop such pettiness.
He sheds his tears in times of drought
And walks distraught through summers wracked by cold.
Call ‘simpleton’ by all, praised by none,
He is of no consequence to anyone.
Such a man
Is everything I would want to become.
雨ニモマケズ
風ニモマケズ
雪ニモ夏ノ暑サニモマケヌ
丈夫ナカラダヲモチ
慾ハナク
決シテ瞋ラズ
イツモシヅカニワラツテヰル
一日ニ玄米四合ト
味噌ト少シノ野菜ヲタベ
アラユルコトヲ
ジブンヲカンジヨウニ入レズニ
ヨクミキキシワカリ
ソシテワスレズ
野原ノ松ノ林ノ蔭ノ
小サナ萱ブキノ小屋ニヰテ
東ニ病気ノ子供アレバ
行ツテ看病シテヤリ
西ニ疲レタ母アレバ
行ツテソノ稲ノ束ヲ負ヒ
南ニ死ニサウナ人アレバ
行ツテコハガラナクテモイヽトイヒ
北ニケンクワヤソシヨウガアレバ
ツマラナイカラヤメロトイヒ
ヒドリノトキハナミダヲナガシ
サムサノナツハオロオロアルキ
ミンナニデクノボートヨバレ
ホメラレモセズ
クニモサレズ
サウイフモノニ
ワタシハナリタイ
Neither to rain
Nor to wind
Neither to snow nor the heat of summer does he yield.
He is strong in body
And without desire.
Never rising in anger,
He is always smiling quietly.
He eats each day four “go” of unpolished rice,
Miso, and a few vegetables.
Seeing and hearing rightly
Everything around him,
He keeps selfish impulse at bay
And forgets nothing.
He lives in a small, thatched hut
At the edge of a field in the shade of a pine forest.
If, in the east, there is a child fallen ill,
He will go to care for it.
If, in the west, there is a work-weary mother,
He will go to shoulder her sheaves of rice.
If, in the south, there lies a person dying,
He will go and tell them, “There is no need to fear.”
If, in the north, there are quarrels or disputes,
He will beg them to stop such pettiness.
He sheds his tears in times of drought
And walks distraught through summers wracked by cold.
Call ‘simpleton’ by all, praised by none,
He is of no consequence to anyone.
Such a man
Is everything I would want to become.