蠅 || Fly

耳が裂け、
心も裂けて、
何を見つめているの？

清く、細く、遠く、
月の張る水面には、
贄の持たぬ者、
彼らの血は鈍く。

書き留めた明日の水銀は、
底なしを意味します、
南の方へ、ただ南方へ、
無数の羽音を垂れ流す。

銀色の翅が揺らぎ、
ぱたぱたゆらゆら空を舞う、
未だ生きている、
満ち満ちた胎の奥は、
粒すら見えなくて。

その火に入れば、焼け死ぬでしょう？
悪意に満ちた胎の中で、
揺れる木霊に、囚われていた、
全てお前らが悪いんだ。

酢漿草の頬が、
地に受け止められては、
閑古鳥が鳴いた。

巡る、巡る、血は巡ってく、
沈む、沈む、イデアは沈む、
清く、清く、脆く、破損していく、
あなたは誰だ。

死骸の香は、馥郁なり、
味覚を刺激するエステル、
深読みすらも、当てはめるアルツハイマー、
聞こうとはできません。

軽々しく、穢されてく、
その顔、その髪、その手足、
行方も知れぬ、あなたに告げる、
全て正気のせいです。

mimi ga sake,
kokoro mo sakete,
nani o mitsumeteiru no?

kiyoku, hosoku, tooku,
tsuki no haru minamo ni wa,
nie no motanu mono,
karera no chi wa nibuku.

kakitometa ashita no suigin wa,
sokonashi o imi shimasu,
minami no hou e, tada nanpou e,
musuu no haoto o tare nagasu.

gin’iro no hane ga yuragi,
patapata yurayura sora o mau,
imada ikite iru,
michi michita hara no oku wa,
tsubu sura mienakute.

sono hi ni ireba, yakeshinu deshou?
akui ni michita hara no naka de,
yureru kodama ni, torawarete ita,
subete omaera ga warui nda.

katabamisou no ho’o ga,
chi ni uketomerarete wa,
kankodori ga naita.

meguru, meguru, chi wa megutteku,
shizumu, shizumu, idea wa shizumu,
kiyoku, kiyoku, moroku, hasonshite iku,
anata wa dare da.

shigai no kou wa, fukuiku nari,
mikaku o shigeki suru esuteru,
fuka yomi sura mo, atehameru arutsuhaimaa,
kikou to wa dekimasen.

karugarushiku, kegasareteku,
sono kao, sono kami, sono teashi,
yukue mo shirenu, anata ni tsugeru,
subete shouki no sei desu.

With burst eardrums
and a burst heart
what are you looking at?

Clear, slender, distant—
upon the water where the moon forms
are those without sacrifice
with sluggish blood.

Tomorrow’s mercury, which I wrote down,
means ‘bottomless’.
We head southwards, even further south
discharging the sound of countless wings flapping.

Silver wings tremble
and dance through the sky, flapping and swaying.
I’m still alive
though inside the full womb
not even the smallest grain can be seen.

I’ll die when I enter those flames, won’t I?
Inside a womb filled with malice
I was trapped by a trembling echo.
It’s all your fault.

The woodsorrels’ cheeks
were caught by the ground
and the cuckoo called.

It circulates, circulates, my blood circulates.
It sinks, it sinks, my idea sinks.
Pure, pure, fragile, getting damaged,
who are you?

The corpse’s fragrance wafts through the air,
ester that thrills my tastebuds.
Alzheimer’s is used to even explain away overthinking things.
I can’t bear to listen.

Your face, your hair, your limbs
are carelessly being contaminated.
With whereabouts unknown, I announce to you
that it’s all because of sanity.