Mariko Sumikura   Official Site - Japanese Poet, Translator
ⒸSumikura Mariko (poems,drawings & photos)


The Last Drops
                                          -To the 1973 Wine-
Twenty years have passed since you were forbidden from giving off your fragrance. What kind of age have you been expecting to see? Why did you come to my hands? In any case, I will open you. You don’t need to hesitate. Emit your rich fragrance as much as you want. Volatilize the years you have spent fettered. How soft the cork has become!
Back then, when the grapevine was still a bit blue, you were stamped and squeezed  under people’s feet and you were said to have lamented in the barrel, longing for the soil. Confined in a room without sunlight, you have decomposed your sweetness to acquire a power of your own.
Now, show me your red brilliance, today. Let’s uncork to celebrate the fact that you did not touch dirty air at all. I will hold up the glass to the sunshine outside. Let me taste your bitterness that you hide with modesty.
And then, the last drops—I will leave the precious sorrowful lee in the bottom, for your future and for our memory.
     (photo by vpweb free collection)       
                      Rain Shower
                  Oh my dear,
                  You should use
                 A small umbrella.
                  I am the travelling man,
                  I won’t melt.
              Waves hve no ending,
              They soliloquize grandly
              For the sake of the ebb and flow.
              And in the human world
              The see of words is so deep.                
                 The extrovert in me
                 And the introvert in me
                 Can never play in harmony.
                 Whatever happens
                 They are a bit astray.           
                      Tangible Light  
               The light of the moon
               Is exposed
               Shining tangible light
               On love's first encounter
               And dissipating it.
                       Shadows in the Heart
                Sad love
                Like concealed flowers
                Fade when revealed.
                In the unseen heart lie
                Shadows upon shadows.
                I am
                Thirty-six-degree body,
                With cool ardor.
                Albeit quietly,
                Burning up inside.
                    Deep inside
                    Of my mind is a space
                    To be filled with love;
                   Its depth is
                    Hot Stream -Emerald-
                  When a stream of hot water
                  The silence of ice,
                  A crystal of emerald
                 Is formed
                       (Designed by Yasuo NAKAYAMA)
                                 Night of Snow
                 The harsh winter of Yogo (lake)
                 When gentle ripples
                 Cause words to quaver,
                 But sadness(snow) does not drift
                 On the surface of the lake.
                              Kyoto Mauve
                   To meet
                   Is to break up.
                   A few drops of joy
                   Mixed with sadness
                   Has one reaching for a mauve ink.
                        I Miss You, Mom
                    "Wait over there.
                      I'll be back soon."
                      Even in my dream
                     You try to protect me?
                     Mom is tough; I miss you, Mom.
                               A single drop
                               Creates this
                               Malformed stalagmite
                               Which askes silently
                               What is your drop?
                                  Sleeping Fires
                             Is gentle with fire.
                            I hope
                             Is gentle with love.
                                White Plum Blossoms
                       Once the blossoms have faded
                       The scent of dislodgement remains.
                       And sadness
                       Come later.
                               Moonlit Night
                      The sound of desperate life
                      In a hatch within a lake,
                     The sound of unspent tears
                      Within a heart,
                     Such a clear moonlit night.               
                          A Silver Snake
                      In my dream,
                      A silver snake
                      Has run away
                     Into a thick bush
                     With tender eyes.
                           White Lotus
                        - Solitude-
                        That must be
                        Elegant preparedness
                        To live on aquatic life.
                       To fill with thy fragrance...
                        The willow tree sways
                        In the blue street lump.
                        Why are my fragile words
                        Rushing to be dispersed?
                       To join the early autumn breeze.
                                  Train Station
                       The clock on the platform
                       It's second hands still
                       Once, I tried to read your lips
                       Behind the window
                       As cold rain came down to cry with me.
   Japanese Garden by Shigemori Mirei: Drawing by Mariko Sumikura
               Nocturnal Dew
                            Almost as if it was contented,
                            The dew that arrives in mist
                            Is reflected in the circular moon,
                            And rests upon the leaves,
                            Until dripping onto the rose petels.
                                                   Entsuji Temple: Drawing by Mariko Sumikura
                                           My mind is lit up
                                           On a wick of life.
                                           I am brightened up
                                           With your light.
                                           Come closer to me.
                           Veiling names and faces,
                           The masquerade came to its highest.
                           The timeless and nameless she was left,
                           As the night came to the darkest.
                           Ephemeral, love remains love.
Lightning Bolt
                              The earth rumbles
                              And the heavens flicker.
                              It blossoms with dignity,
                              And illuminates this flower.
                              Life cannot be defeated.
The Shadow of Blossom
                              Oh, blossom,
                              It's a crime to be so beautiful.
                              Without a single blemish,
                              It is evil to bloom.
                              Tenderly touching the shadow of you.
A Vein of Water
                               Digging a well in my heart,
                               Digging to find a vein of water,
                               It is a sudden strain
                               When it springs through the filter of time,
                               But then, it is just sweet loneliness.
"Yume tsumugu hito"(Chikurinkan)
2009 ⒸSumikura Mariko
                                            Man's Umbrella
                               Covering the shoulders of us two, 
                               The umbrella has more room. 
                               At chills the flowers is
                               Rain, rain, 
                               And rain.

                             Gleaming dimly
                             In the depth of my heart,
                             I won't be afflicted
                             With the beauty of the blue.
                                        The Rudder
                                  I still have a say
                                  In my decision.
                                  I am steering to
                                  The future.
(Photo by Zuzana Horiska, Czech))
                                  Pain is the fingertip
                                  Of God directed
                                  At a wounded point.
                                  The wound of my mind 
                                  Is in here.

                                         Flower Buds
                             Do you hear the sound?
                             That the piths of flowers
                             Mature as they break
                             Their hard calyxes
                             With little thunderclaps.
                            The person who exists
                            In the depth of my mind
                            Is the one who lives
                            In my time
                            With purity.
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