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Hiroko first came across the traditional Japanese poetic form of tanka as a teenager when an ‘angel in white’ lent her the book, “The truth about Tanka” by Yasuo Yamamoto. The ‘angel’ in fact, was a nurse called Setsuko Harada, and it was from this time that Hiroko really first felt the preciousness of meeting and connecting with people. Setsuko would spend time with Hiroko and encouraged her to find her own way in the world. Hiroko found the Japanese characters difficult to read but was so determined to understand, that she memorized 470 pages of a Japanese dictionary so that she could then study the tanka.
Tanka 短歌 are 31 syllable
poems, which have played an important cultural role in Japan for at
least 1300 years. It is an older form than Haiku but like Haiku aims to capture a poignant moment in time or mark a certain occasion.Hiroko felt that this was a path she could pursue so she set her mind to studying hard. When she knocked on the door of Mr Yamamoto, the author of the book she had just read and expressed her desire to learn, his reaction of disbelief later inspired the follow poem;
“He seems to have taken me
For a feeble-minded girl:
He does not even answer
As I speak with a distorted face”
Hiroko studied and entered poetry competitions in which she did well. She was given the confidence to keep writing, recording her inner journey almost as a personal dairy capturing as pockets of time significant moments of her life. Ten years later she had compiled an anthology of 300 tanka, which was published and received with great praise and enthusiasm.
On publication of the anthology and on the development of Hiroko as an independent person in mind and spirit, her friend Miss Harada proudly wrote; “….studying the traditional tanka is nothing else than looking deeply into one’s self. Since olden days that dedication of oneself to tanka has been called kado, the way of tanka, and this is solely because there is something in common between kado and religion….It is through tanka that she has found herself and has learned the value of what keeps her alive…”
Hiroko’s love for poetry is also evident in her paintings as she often includes lines or full poems to complement her compositions.
Here are a selection of some of Hiroko’s tanka.
They were translated by Professor Tsugiyoshi Torii in Osaka in 1980 as a part of her autobiography “Life on the Left Toes”.
He writes in the postscript that he encountered difficulties due to the special 31 syllable form of tanka. So he chose to “translate each poem into four lines, and to convey the meaning and feeling of each as faithfully as possible, with out much concern about the syllabic count of the poems.”
•••
It's only natural that I use my leg
To keep myself alive,
Since my hands do not work.
So why do people call it Strange?
•••
On rainy days, mosquitoes come in
And fly around in my room
As if they are mocking at me
Whose hands are palsied and numb.
•••
In the old diary
Kept by Mother newly married,
There are all too many words
Related to the war.
•••
Each time I hear of my father
Who was a quiet person, I hear,
Anger with Militarism
Surges up anew in me.
•••
I think this evening
That even I can be loved
When I look at your eyes
That speak better than your mouth.
•••
"This is not an immoral love,"
I whispered in my mirror,
Drawing rouge on my lips
Thicker than I usually do.
•••
"I'm sorry for your misfortune,"
Says this person again
When he puts the change
Into my purse for me.
•••
Grandma does not indulge me
Though I've fallen with spasms
Just after standing up,
Striving with all my might to walk.
•••
Enduring the pain of the grazed skin,
I walk on and on.
Spring is still far away
From the place where I train myself.
•••
Even monkeys peel and eat
With their own hands.
Isn't it a pity
That my hands can't do that?
•••
"He seems to have taken me
For a feeble-minded girl:
He does not even answer
As I speak with a distorted face."
•••
I was photographed again
Like some strange animal
While I was using the knitting-machine
With my left leg.
•••
I could not apply myself
To the frame of the institution,
Since I knew my potential ability
In spite of the numbness of my arms.
•••
Being unable to relieve myself,
I have been travelling
Three days and three nights
Without eating or drinking anything.
•••
A woman offers me an orange
When I am so hungry and thirsty.
Not knowing that my hands are paralyzed.
This makes me feel sad anew.
•••
The friendly couple with whom I am staying now
Are also both of them physically handicapped
And how kindly they comfort
My heart which is stricken with sorrow.
•••
When I eased nature all alone
For the first time in my life,
The word "impossible"
Went out of my vocabulary.
•••
Though my hands are useless
I will try how far I can go with my toes:
I feel my blood go though the brush
Which I hold between my toes.
•••
The night when I realize
That I have none to protect me,
A white lily opens
By the side of my pillow.
•••