FOUR SEASONS IN JAPAN

 

Without losing to the rain (Miyazawa Kenji – 1931, traduzido por Nick Bradley)

Without losing to the rain      without losing to the wind

Neither beaten by snow      nor summer’s heat

Keep a strong body      absent of desire

Neither angry nor resentful      always smiling calmly

Four cups of brown rice      miso and a few vegetables each day

Observe all things      impartially and selflessly

Look, listen, understand deeply      never forget lessons learnt

Dwell in a humble thatched house      in the shade of forest pines

To the east if there is a sick child      go nurse them to health

To the west a weary mother      go help her harvest rice

To the south a person dying      go tell them there’s no need to fear

To the north a fight or squabble      go tell them to make peace

In times of drought shed tears      wander at a loss in cold summer

Called a nobody by all      without praise or being noticed

That’s the kind of person      I wish to be.

 

The rain had eased, and Kyo followed the direction of her finger. In the distance, he saw a gap in the clouds and the sun peeking out. Beams of sunlight leaked from behind the dark rain clouds, and the rays shone down at patches of the sea, making them sparkle, swirl and glisten in the shimmering light.

“Without losing to the rain” (   ) “Without losing to the wind”

As they both leant against the wet handrail, they began to see a double rainbow forming in the sky over the town.

 

They turned to face her.

Unmistakable.

But as she watched, they began to slowly fade away into nothingness.

 

“But what if you had different interests? Does that mean you’re incompatible?”

(…)

“Not necessarily. I think it’s the passion someone feels towards something that’s important” (…) it’s not exactly the thing itself we’ve all been passionate about, but rather the very fact that we feel and understand passion. A lot of people out there have no dreams, no ambitions, they just want to go to work and go to sleep each night, and that makes them happy. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, you know, different people have different priorities. Junin toiro –  as the old proverb says – ten people ten colours. But when you meet someone who cares deeply about something the same way as you do, I don’t know, there’s something attractive about that. Don’t you think? Particularly when it happens to be the same passion you yourself have.”

(…)

 

“Nice to meet you. My name is Kyo (…). Please treat me kindly.”

“Nice to meet you, Kyo-san” they all chorused, bowing back. “Please treat us kindly.”

 

“You don’t have to, though.” (…) “You can do whatever you like man. It’s your life. Don’t live it for other people”

 

In the end, Kyo had given up guessing, and she’d told him she was studying law.

(…)

“I suppose it’s because I love stories.” She said thoughtfully. “And arguing. It was the one thing I reckoned resembled literature without being literature. Court cases are just hearing people’s life stories. “ She paused, thoughtful for a moment, then laughed. “And I actually want a job at the end of my studies:”

 

What was so wrong about following one’s dreams?

What was this life but his own, to do as he saw fit?

(…) a million lives unfurled and drifted through his mind, and he found it unbearable thinking of the myriad possibilities that awaited. Some of them appeared to him – married with children. Divorced. Drunk without a job. Earning lots of money. A happy family. A struggling artist. Bad reviews. Pain. Joy. A great task ahead of him, looming like a craggy, mountainous peak. Here it was, the definition of failure or success. Judgement from his peers. Praise from his idols. Thrown out on the scrapheap. Dying in anonymity. Acclaim. A doctor. A lifesaver. A member of society. A street bum. A loser, living in Okinawa, teaching people to surf. Cars. Kids. Cot death. Motorbikes. Trying to hold on to lost youth. Death in the family. Parents outliving their children. The loss of a partner. Grief. Cancer. Disgust. Affairs. Adultery. Theft. Murder. Assault. War. Famine. Inequity. Impotence. Failure. Overwhelming failure. Resounding failure. Frog. Suicide.

 

She pushed on. Feeling the burn inside. Nothing would stop her. Nothing could stop her.

People climbed mountains every day.

Some big, some small.

But they all got up, and there were those who never gave up.

And then there were those who did.

(…)

Get to that lamppost. Get to that lamppost.

You can do it. You can make it. Just a little further.

Keep going.

You can do it.

 Four seasons in Japan, Nick Bradley