をどりあそばせ。 || Please Dance.

日本語

ぎょろり。ぎょろり。ぎょろり。彼女の眼球はそれはそれは締麗な天目茶碗のやうな深淵さを誇っていて、僕は其れを持ち帰ってはもう毎日毎晩、口に含んだり、湧が流れてきようものなら飢えた餓鬼どもが雨水を吸るやうに丁寧に祇めあげてやる。ぎょろり。ぎょろり。ぎょろり。月の欠ける音さえ聞こえてくるやうな夜に彼女の得を散らしてやりたいとも思うけれどきっとお月さんわぁ赦してくれねぇんだろうなぁ。ぎょろり。蟲を食べてる女ァがオレの方じっと視てきやがるよう。お前さんは解ってくれるよなぁッ！？ぎょろり。ぎょろり。ぎょろり。

ありゃあ驚いたよ、ナニぐらいの小せゑ穴覗いてみたらさぁ、中で腐った猫の死骸を、まだ十もいってねぇだうなぁ、子供がさぁ一所懸命に喰い千切ってんのさぁ。蛇女だあとか申刺しだあとかは見慣れてんだけどよお、アレは参ったよ。人間ぽんぶやら火吹く奴アが妙に可愛く思えてきちまう。そうそう、あの片目無しの女、アレがゑれゑべっぴんさんやったなあ。椿の可愛い眼帯つけちゃいたがあれ外してんの見たら一生忘れらんなくなっちまう。ありゃあひでえ。恐ろしいでえ。片方の目ェをなあぎょろり。ぎょろり。ぎょろり。

四面狂人である。嗤う訳にはいかない。勿論泣く訳にもいかない。日々の狂躁に私自身もウンザリしている。あゝどうして私達こんなにも醜いのかしら、とも思う。母は鼠に喰い千切られ、父は鴉片に犯されている。芥子の花が咲いている。椿の花は落ちている。あ、貴方なんて青空が似合うような人になってしまえばいいと思う。そうすればきっと私は石の裏の蚯蚓のように貴方から逃げられると思うから

鳴いた。何時ぞやの鳥は、さぁ踊って狂って嗤って泣いて何時何時出やる。開いた。今時の籠は、あゝ彩喰らった夜のやうな忌む箱であるらしくなく、踊りあそばせ。らしくなく、をどりあそばせ。らしくなく、オドリアソバセ。らしくなく、ヲドリアソバセ。らしくなく、躍り遊ばセ。らしくなく。らしくなく。らしくなく。らしくなく。らしくなく。らしくなく。らしくなく。

てんで可笑しい噺かもしれまんが、アたしこれでも幸せなんです今朝起きたとき、枕もとに一輪の小さな椿が落ちていまして、つまらぬ夢の続きでせうかとも思いましたけれども、どうやらそうでもない。アたし、愛されているんだわ。とも思

Translation

Staring. Staring. Staring. Her eyes were boasted of as having the depths of a beautiful Tenmoku tea bowl. And now, I bring them home each night and bring them to my mouth. As for the stuff that gushes out, I’ll lick it up thoroughly, like parched children sucking up rain. Staring. Staring. Staring. During a night where one could even hear the sound of the waning moon, I wanted to relieve her of her virtue, but I guess the moon wouldn’t forgive me for it, huh? Staring. Seems like the girl eating bugs had her eyes fixed on me. You understand me, right?! Staring. Staring. Staring.

How surprising it was. I opened up the smallest hole, and inside was the rotting corpse of a cat. They hadn’t even passed 10 yet but the kids had torn it to shreds while eating it. They started off by saying “there’s a snake woman!” but then got used to it. I give up on them! Humans. I’ve wound up thinking the ones who breathe fire are strangely cute. Yeah, that’s right. That gal’s got one eye, but a real beauty has come my way. She’s got a beautiful camellia eyepatch. When I stripped it off, I was met with a sight I’ll never forget. How hideous! How terrifying!  The other eye was staring at me. Staring. Staring.

I’m a lunatic on all sides. There’s no way I’d laugh. Of course, there’s no way I’d cry either. I’m fed up with the mania of day-to-day life. Ah, I wonder why we’re so ugly. Mother is torn to pieces and eaten by a rat, and father is corrupted by opium. Poppies are blooming. The camellias are falling. Ah, I think it would be nice if one such as you could become a person who would match the blue sky. It’s because, if you did, I think I’d surely be chased away from you like an earthworm beneath a stone.

That bird from long ago called… Now dance, go mad, laugh, cry, and eventually emerge. It opened. Modern baskets don’t seem to be shunned boxes, like the night devouring colours. They’re not like that, please dance! not like that, please dance. not like that, pLeasE dAncE. not liKE thAT, PleasE dAnce. Not like that, please dance. Not like that. Not like that. Not like that. Not like that. Not like that. Not like that. Not like that.

It may be an entirely laughable tale, but I’m happy with that. When I woke up this morning, a small camellia had fallen by my pillow. I thought it may have been how my dull dream continued, but that wasn’t the case. I am loved. Or so I think.