"But I am not running away from the city, just eating the wind"
How do you turn all this noise into music?
“Distant View of Awajishima” by Fujishima Takeji
Eating the Wind
by Kurodo Sabura
Kacha
means glass in Indonesian.
Gacha means elephant.
Kachakacha!
Gachagacha!
Saying a word twice makes it plural:
Lots of glass!
Lots of elephants!
Once you get used to all that noise,
it stops being so noisy.
Life in the city:
Kachakacha! Gachagacha!
Lots of glass!
Lots of elephants!
I think of them wistfully
like fairytales.
It’s been more than ten days on the plateau.
I walk between corn and flowerbean fields,
thinking, Makan angin.
In Indonesian,
eating the wind means taking a walk,
brisk and elegant.
Eating the wind
means running away
in Japanese.
But I am not running away from the city,
just eating the wind
on a path on the plateau.
by Kurodo Sabura, trans. Marianne Tarcov from Poetry Kanto, 2006 Issue
Creative Invitation
How do you turn noise into music? What is your version of eating the wind?
Think of your safest and happiest place—what does life look like in this setting? Write three adjectives, or make a little diorama of the safe and happy place in a box or a bowl.