のほほん癒される詩

**平岡公威** · 2011/03/10(木) 23:52:46.85

ぼくの詩だお
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bf/Yukio_Mishima_1931.gif

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 12:04:14.71

アメリカ特有の匂ひ、衛生的な薬品の匂ひと甘いしつこい体臭とを五分五分にまぜあはせたやうな匂ひが店内に
充ちてゐた。ほとんど中年以上の女客が、濃い口紅を塗り、威丈高な目つきをして、大きな菓子やオープン・
サンドウヰッチと取り組んでゐた。これだけ騒々しい店なのに、着飾つた一人一人の孤独な女たちの食慾には
ひどくしめやかなものがあつた。しめやかな、淋しい、沢山の消化器の儀式のやうだ。

「魔法瓶」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 12:10:15.07

The Great Imperial Concubine was not, as was so widely believed, the personification of Courtly elegance,
but, rather, a person who found the real relish of life in the knowledge of being loved.
Despite her high rank, she was first of all a woman; and all the power and authority in the world
seemed to her empty things if they were bereft of this knowledge.

Yukio Mishima, The Priest of Shiga Temple and His Love

For, whatever a woman may say about abandoning the world, it is almost impossible for her to give up
the things that she possesses. Only men are really capable of giving up what they possess.

Yukio Mishima, The Priest of Shiga Temple and His Love

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 12:11:32.80

この貴婦人は優雅の化身といふよりも、愛されるといふことに壮大さの趣味を託してゐる人だつたのである。
高位の貴婦人であらうと、女である以上、愛されるといふことを抜きにしたいかなる権力も徒である。

一体女には、世を捨てると云つたところで、自分のもつてゐるものを捨てることなど出来はしない。男だけが、
自分の現にもつてゐるものを捨てることができるのである。

「志賀寺上人の恋」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 12:13:41.30

An onnagata is the child born of the illicit union between dream and reality.

Yukio Mishima, Onnagata

女方こそ、夢と現実との不倫の交はりから生れた子なのである。

「女方」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 15:07:16.18

Ranged across the top of the radio were a small china dog, a rabbit, a squirrel, a bear, and a fox.
There were also a small vase and a water pitcher. These comprised Reiko's one and only collection.
But it would hardly do, she imagined, to give such things as keepsakes. Nor again would it be
quite proper to ask specifically for them to be included in the coffin. It seemed to Reiko, as
these thoughts passed through her mind, that the expressions on the small animals' faces grew
even more lost and forlorn.
Reiko took the squirrel in her hand and looked at it. And then, her thoughts turning to a realm
far beyond these childlike affections, she gazed up into the distance at the great sunlike principle
which her husband embodied.

Yukio Mishima, Patriotism

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 15:18:15.97

ラヂオの横には小さな陶器の犬や兎や栗鼠や熊や狐がいた。さらに小さな壺や水瓶があつた。これが麗子の唯一の
コレクションだつたが、こんなものを形見に上げてもはじまらない。しかもわざわざ棺に納めてもらふにも当らない。
するとそれらの小さな陶器の動物たちは、一そうあてどのない、よるべのない表情を湛へはじめた。
麗子はその一つの栗鼠を手にとつてみて、こんな自分の子供らしい愛着のはるか彼方に、良人が体現してゐる
太陽のやうな大義を仰ぎ見た。

「憂国」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 20:09:16.69

There was the sound of a car outside the window. He could hear the screech of its tires skidding
in the snow piled at the side of the street. The sound of its horn re-echoed from near-by walls.
...Listening to these noises he had the feeling that this house rose like a solitary island in the
ocean of a society going as restlessly about its business as ever. All around, vastly and untidily,
stretched the country for which he grieved. He was to give his life for it. But would that
great country, with which he was prepared to remonstrate to the extent of destroying himself, take
the slightest heed of his death? He did not know; and it did not matter. His was a battlefield
without glory, a battlefield where none could display deeds of valor: it was the front line of the spirit.

Yukio Mishima, Patriotism

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 20:13:26.50

窓の外に自動車の音がする。道の片側に残る雪を蹴立てるタイヤのきしみがきこえる。近くの塀にクラクションが
反響する。……さういふ音をきいてゐると、あひかはらず忙しく往来してゐる社会の海の中に、ここだけは
孤島のやうに屹立して感じられる。自分が憂へる国は、この家のまはりに大きく雑然とひろがつてゐる。自分は
そのために身を捧げるのである。しかし自分が身を滅ぼしてまで諫めようとするその巨大な国は、果してこの死に
一顧を与へてくれるかどうかわからない。それでいいのである。ここは華々しくない戦場、誰にも勲（いさを）しを
示すことのできぬ戦場であり、魂の最前線だつた。

「憂国」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 20:24:47.86

In the radiant, bridelike figure of his white-robed wife the lieutenant seemed to see a vision of
all those things he had loved and for which he was to lay down his life―the Imperial Household,
the Nation, the Army Flag. All these, no less than the wife who sat before him, were presences
observing him closely with clear and never-faltering eyes.

Yukio Mishima, Patriotism

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/25(月) 20:25:45.83

中尉は目の前の花嫁のやうな白無垢の美しい妻の姿に、自分が愛しそれに身を捧げてきた皇室や国家や軍旗や、
それらすべての花やいだ幻を見るやうな気がした。それらは目の前の妻と等しく、どこからでも、どんな
遠くからでも、たえず清らかな目を放つて、自分を見詰めてゐてくれる存在だつた。

「憂国」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/26(火) 14:39:11.95

The abundance of Masako's tears was a genuine cause for astonishment. Not for a moment did their
volume diminish. Tired of watching, Akio dropped his gaze and looked at the tip of the umbrella he had
stood against a chair. The raindrops running from it had formed a small, darkish puddle on the
old-fashioned, tile mosaic floor. Even the puddle began to look like Masako' s tears to him.

Yukio Mishima, Fountains in the Rain

雅子の涙の豊富なことは、本当に愕くのほかはない。どの瞬間も、同じ水圧、同じ水量を割ることがないのである。
明男は疲れて、目を落して、椅子に立てかけた自分の雨傘の末を見た。古風なタイルのモザイクの床に、傘の末から
黒つぽい雨水が小さな水溜りを作つてゐた。明男はそれも、雅子の涙のやうな気がした。

「雨のなかの噴水」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/26(火) 14:41:50.97

At first glance, it seemed as neat, as motionless, as a sculpture fashioned out of water. Yet watching
closely he could see a transparent ghost of movement moving upward from bottom to top. With furious
speed it climbed, steadily filling a slender cylinder of space from base to summit, replacing
each moment what had been lost the moment before, in a kind of perpetual replenishment. It was plain
that at heaven's height it would be finally frustrated; yet the unwaning power that supported
unceasing failure was magnificent.

Yukio Mishima, Fountains in the Rain

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/26(火) 14:43:41.54

一見、大噴柱は、水の作り成した彫塑のやうに、きちんと身じまひを正して、静止してゐるかのやうである。
しかし目を凝らすと、その柱のなかに、たえず下方から上方へ馳せ昇つてゆく透明な運動の霊が見える。それは
一つの棒状の空間を、下から上へ凄い速度で順々に充たしてゆき、一瞬毎に、今欠けたものを補つて、たえず
同じ充実を保つてゐる。それは結局天の高みで挫折することがわかつてゐるのだが、こんなにたえまのない挫折を
支へてゐる力の持続は、すばらしい。

「雨のなかの噴水」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/26(火) 15:02:34.01

To cure the world of its stupidity, the first requirement was a process of purification through stupidity;
a thorough exaltation of what the bourgeoisie saw as stupid, even if it meant aping the bourgeois creed
and its single-minded, tradesman's energy....

Yukio Mishima, Raisin Bread

この世界の愚劣を癒やすためには、まづ、何か、愚劣の洗滌が要るのだ。藷たちが愚劣と考へることの、
一生けんめいの聖化が要るのだ。あいつらの信条、あいつらの商人的な一生けんめいさをさへ真似をして。

「葡萄パン」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/26(火) 15:43:42.87

Either way, Jack was cured by now. He'd been mistaken in thinking that if he killed himself
the sordid bourgeois world would perish with him. He'd lost consciousness and been taken to a hospital,
and when he came to and surveyed his surroundings, the same world had been all around him, alive and
kicking as ever. So, since the world seemed irremediable, he'd resigned himself to getting better....

Yukio Mishima, Raisin Bread

とにかくジャックはもう治つたのだ。彼が自殺すれば、それと同時に、あのいぎたない藷たちの世界も滅びるだらうと
思つてゐたのはまちがひだつた。彼が意識を失つて病院へ運ばれ、やがて意識を取り戻してまはりを見廻したとき、
藷たちの世界は依然いきいきとして彼を取巻いてゐた。……あいつらが不治ならば、こつちが治つてやるほかはない。

「葡萄パン」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 12:31:06.42

Kinouchi felt an affection for the youthfulness thus challenging him. Youth came to the attack
courteously yet brutally, while age awaited it, a smile on its lips, without stirring and with confidence.
Courtesy without violence was displeasing in a young man, less acceptable even than violence without
courtesy.

Yukio Mishima, Sword

木内はかうして自分に立ち向つてくる若さを愛する。若さは礼儀正しく、しかも兇暴に撃ちかかつて来て、
老年はこちらにゐて、微笑しながら、じつと自信を以て身を衛る。青年の、暴力を伴はない礼儀正しさはいやらしい。
それは礼儀を伴はない暴力よりももつと悪い。

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 12:53:21.84

On the far side of this frustration Kinouchi lounged like a great indigo cat taking a daytime nap.
Jiro gave up any idea of finding a weak point. It must be his own impatience, he felt, that prevented him
from getting at him. The other man's flawlessness was surely a false front, a sleight of hand;
in this world, nothing could really be so perfect.
A thin casing of ice seemed gradually to be enveloping his person, threatening to encase his shoulders
and elbows firmly till finally he was trapped in it. The more he put things off, the worse it got.
He must burst out with all strength of his body, smash the ice.

Yukio Mishima, Sword

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 12:55:06.39

木内は彼のその焦燥のむかうでゆつたりと寝そべつてゐる。昼寝をしてゐる大きな藍いろの猫みたいに。
次郎は隙をみつけることを断念する。自分の焦燥が相手の隙を自分の目に見せないのだらうと感じる。相手の
完璧さは完璧さの仮装であり、完璧さに化けてゐるのだ。この世に完璧なものなんぞあらう筈はない。
次郎は次第に、身のまはりに薄氷（うすらひ）がはりつめてきて、それがいつかは身動きもできなくなるほど、
肩を肱を、しつかりと氷に閉ざしてしまふやうな気がする。時を移せば移すほどさうなる。全身の力を爆発させて、
その氷を破らなければならぬ。

「剣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 13:09:18.36

Mental softness and impressionability―rebelling, scorning, lapsing occasionally into self-disgust―
were to be discarded entirely. A sense of shame was to be retained, but bashful hesitation was to go.
Any feelings of“I want to”must be done away with, to be replaced, as a basic principle, by“I should.”
Yes―that was what he would do. He would focus the whole of his daily life on fencing. The sword was
a sharp-pointed crystal of concentrated, unsullied power, the natural form taken by the spirit and
the flesh when they were honed into a single shaft of pure light.

Yukio Mishima, Sword

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 13:11:00.22

反抗したり、軽蔑したり、時には自己嫌悪にかられたりする、柔かい心、感じ易い心はみな捨てる。廉恥の心は
持ちつづけてゐるべきだが、うぢうぢした羞恥心などはみな捨てる。「……したい」などといふ心はみな捨てる。
その代りに、「……すべきだ」といふことを自分の基本原理にする。さうだ、本当にさうすべきだ。
生活のあらゆるものを剣に集中する。剣はひとつの、集中した澄んだ力の鋭い結晶だ。精神と肉体が、とぎすまされて、
光りの束をなして凝つたときに、それはおのづから剣の形をとるのだ。

「剣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 17:18:13.30

Once, as a boy, he had tried to outstare the sun. But before he could tell whether he had really
looked at it or not, changes had occurred: the blazing red ball that had been there at first began to
whirl, then suddenly dimmed, till it became a cold, bluish-black, flattened disk of iron. He felt
he had seen the very essence of the sun....
For a while, wherever he looked he saw the sun's pale afterimage: in the undergrowth; in the shade
beneath the trees; even, when he gazed up, in every part of the sky.
The truth was something too dazzling to be looked at directly. And yet, once it had come into one's
field of vision, one saw patches of light in all kinds of places: the afterimages of virtue.

Yukio Mishima, Sword

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 17:22:12.18

少年のころ、一度、太陽と睨めつこをしようとしたことがある。見るか見ぬかの一瞬のうちの変化だが、はじめ
それは灼熱した赤い玉だつた。それが渦巻きはじめた。ぴたりと静まつた。するとそれは蒼黒い、平べつたい、
冷たい鉄の円盤になつた。彼は太陽の本質を見たと思つた。……しばらくはいたるところに、太陽の白い残影を見た。
叢にも。木立のかげにも。目を移す青空のどの一隅にも。
それは正義だつた。眩しくてとても正視できないもの。そして、目に一度宿つたのちは、そこかしこに見える光りの
斑は、正義の残影だつた。

「剣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 17:29:33.28

When all's said and done, everything in fencing depends on your grip. That's the one thing I've learned
from thirty-five years of it. The important thing for a human being is to learn and master one thing
in his life―one thing, however small. That's enough.

Yukio Mishima, Sword

剣は結局、手の内にはじまつて手の内に終るな。俺が三十五年、剣道から学んだことはそれだけだつた。人間が
本当に学んで会得することといふのは、一生にたつた一つ、どんな小さいことでもいい。たつた一つあればいいんだ。

「剣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/27(水) 17:31:51.06

Happiness wasn't a proper concern for a man.

Yukio Mishima, Sword

幸福なんて男の持つべき考へぢやない。

「剣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/28(木) 13:58:16.69

Just when he had lost his faith Anri could not remember. The one thing he could recall, vividly even now,
was the mystery of the sea, aglow in the sunset, whose waters had failed to give way however much
they prayed: a fact more incomprehensible than any miraculous vision. The mystery of that encounter
between a boyish mind that saw nothing strange in a vision of Christ, and a sunset sea that refused
absolutely to divide....

Yukio Mishima, Sea and Sunset

安里は自分がいつ信仰を失つたか、思ひ出すことができない。ただ、今もありありと思ひ出すのは、いくら祈つても
分かれなかつた夕映えの海の不思議である。奇蹟の幻影より一層不可解なその事実。何のふしぎもなく、基督の幻を
うけ入れた少年の心が、決して分れようとしない夕焼の海に直面したときのあの不思議……。

「海と夕焼」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/28(木) 14:00:48.24

If at any time in his life the sea had been going to part, it should have done so at that moment, yet even then it had
stretched silent, fiery still in the sunset: there lay the mystery....

Yukio Mishima, Sea and Sunset

おそらく安里の一生にとつて、海がもし二つに分かれるならば、それはあの一瞬を措いてはなかつたのだ。
さうした一瞬にあつてさへ、海が夕焼に燃えたまま黙々とひろがつてゐたあの不思議……。

「海と夕焼」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/28(木) 14:31:37.37

I cannot look back on the turmoil of adolescence as something either enjoyable or attractive.
“My youth was but a shadowy storm,”writes Baudelaire in a poem,“shot through here and there by
shafts of sunlight.”
It's odd how one's memories of youth turn out so bleak. Why does the business of growing up―one's
recollections of growth itself―have to be so tragic? I still haven't found the answer. I doubt if
anybody has. When I finally reach that stage at which the placid wisdom of old age, with the
dry clarity that comes toward autumn's end, occasionally descends on a person, then I too may suddenly
discover that I understand. But I doubt whether, by the time, understanding will have much point.

Yukio Mishima, Cigarette

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/28(木) 14:33:29.04

あの慌しい少年時代が私にはたのしいもの美しいものとして思ひ返すことができぬ。「燦爛とここかしこ、
陽の光洩れ落ちたれど」とボオドレエルは歌つてゐる。「わが青春はおしなべて、晦闇の嵐なりけり」。
少年時代の思ひ出は不思議なくらゐ悲劇化されてゐる。なぜ成長してゆくことが、そして成長そのものの思ひ出が、
悲劇でなければならないのか。私には今もなほ、それがわからない。誰にもわかるまい。老年の謐かな智恵が、
あの秋の末によくある乾いた明るさを伴つて、我々の上に落ちかゝることがある日には、ふとした加減で、私にも
わかるやうになるかもしれない。だがわかつても、その時には、何の意味もなくなつてゐるであらう。

「煙草」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/28(木) 17:50:03.07

He gave the impression of looking disapprovingly on the tendency, common to all boys, to worship
toughness as a way of making up for their awareness of the vulnerability peculiar to their age.
If anything, Watari sought to preserve the vulnerability. The young man who seeks to be himself is
respected by his fellows; the boy who tries to do the same is persecuted by other boys, it being
a boy's business to become something else just as soon as he can.

Yukio Mishima, Martyrdom

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/28(木) 17:51:28.37

少年といふものが彼らの年齢特有の脆弱さを意識して反対の「粗雑さ」に憧れる傾向を、亘理は冷眼視してゐるやうに
思はれるのだつた。彼はむしろ脆弱さを守らうとしてゐた。自分自身であらうとする青年は青年同士の間で
尊敬される。しかし自分自身であらうとする少年は少年たちの迫害に会ふのである。少年は一刻でも他の何物かで
あらうと努力すべきであつた。

「殉教」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 14:08:06.79

It might be that, when a person strove too hard to apprehend something outside himself, some kind of
exchange occurred eventually between him and the object of his interest, leaving him subtly altered.

Yukio Mishima, Act of Worship

人間が或る限度以上に物事を究めようとするときに、つひにはその人間と対象とのあひだに一種の相互転換が起り、
人間は異形に化するのかもしれない。

「三熊野詣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 14:10:22.47

Under any government and in any society, for beautiful scenery to produce beautiful verse surely
required that the poet, if a woman, should have beauty and position in the manner of Eifuku Mon'in, or,
if a man, some strong, unshakable ideas of his own.

Yukio Mishima, Act of Worship

時代がどうあらうと、社会がどうあらうと、美しい景色を見て美しい歌を作れ、といふ考へを支へるには、
女なら門院のやうな富と権勢、男なら梃でも動かない強い思想、といふものが必要なのではないだらうか。

「三熊野詣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 14:15:16.39

Quite possibly, that was what had given him such an unusually solitary, chilly personality―the suspicion
that the beauty distilled from the ugly struggles provoked by man's greed appeared, not on the
victorious side but more stealthily, amongst those who were defeated or doomed to extinction; whereas
he personally, hoping to establish (albeit in provisional form) his own lasting authority, disliked
any hint of such extinction.

Yukio Mishima, Act of Worship

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 14:20:50.89

人間の醜い慾の争ひをこえてまで顕現する美は、あるひは勝利者の側にはあらはれず、敗北者や滅びゆく者の
側にだけこつそりと姿を現はすのかもしれないが、さりとて先生は滅びるのはおきらひで、自分の永遠の権威を、
（たとへ仮りの姿にもせよ）、確立したいとお望みになり、そのために人並外れた淋しい冷たい心をお持ちに
なるにいたつたのかもしれない。

「三熊野詣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 14:28:55.27

The only things that happened to a person were those that were appropriate to him. Yukio Mishima, Act of Worship

誰の身の上にも、その人間にふさはしい事件しか起らない。

「三熊野詣」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 15:51:02.57

Like a moon that hangs in the night sky, the Golden Temple had been built as a symbol of the dark ages.
Therefore it was necessary for Golden Temple of my dreams to have darkness bearing down on it from
all sides. In this darkness, the beautiful, slender pillars of the building rested quietly and
steadily, emitting a faint light from inside. Whatever words people might speak to the Golden Temple,
it must continue to stand there silently, displaying its delicate structure to the eyes of the world
and enduring the darkness that surrounded it.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 15:52:07.96

夜空の月のやうに、金閣は暗黒時代の象徴として造られたのだつた。そこで私の夢想の金閣は、その周囲に
押しよせてゐる闇の背景を必要とした。闇のなかに、美しい細身の柱の構造が、内から微光を放つて、じつと
静かに坐つてゐた。人がこの建築にどんな言葉で語りかけても、美しい金閣は、無言で、繊細な構造をあらはにして、
周囲の闇に耐へてゐなければならぬ。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 15:54:54.19

The Golden Temple had made its way through an immense night. A crossing whose end one could still
not foresee. In the daytime, this strange ship lowered its anchor with a look of innocence and
submitted to being viewed by crowds of people; but when night came, the surrounding darkness lent
the ship a new force and it floated away, with its roof billowing like a great sail.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 15:56:02.75

金閣はおびただしい夜を渡つてきた。いつ果てるともしれぬ航海。そして、昼の間といふもの、このふしぎな船は
そしらぬ顔で碇を下ろし、大ぜいの人が見物するのに委せ、夜が来ると周囲の闇に勢ひを得て、その屋根を
帆のやうにふくらませて出航したのである。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/29(金) 16:16:46.38

It is no exaggeration to say that the first real problem I faced in my life was that of beauty.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

私が人生で最初にぶつかつた難問は、美といふことだつたと言つても過言ではない。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/30(土) 16:57:36.88

In any case, for the present I was situated squarely between two worlds. Although I was still so young,
I was conscious, under my ugly, stubborn forehead, that the world of death which my father ruled and
the world of life occupied by young people were being brought together by the mediation of war.
I myself would probably become an intermediary. When I was killed in the war, it would be clear that
it had not made the slightest difference which path I had chosen of the two that now lay before
my eyes.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/30(土) 16:59:29.60

ともかく、私は二つの世界に股をかけてゐる。私はまだこんなに若いのに、醜い頑固なおでこの下で、
父の司つてゐる死の世界と、若者たちの生の世界とが、戦争を媒介として、結ばれつつあるのを感じてゐた。
私はその結び目になるだらう。私が戦死すれば、目の前のこの岐れ道のどつちを行つても、結局同じだつたことが
判明するだらう。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 11:38:20.30

From Ashiwara Island came the cry of the night birds as they flew off into the distance. I was
conscious of the weight of Father's emaciated hands on my shoulders. When I glanced at my shoulder,
I saw that in the moonlight Father's hand had turned into that of a skeleton.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

葦原島のかげから夜鳥が叫びをあげて飛び翔つた。私はわが肩に父の痩せ細つた手の重みを感じてゐた。その肩に
目をやつたとき、月光の加減で、私は父の手が白骨に変つてゐるのを見た。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 11:40:09.13

The minutest part of the temple was in perfect accord with the entire complex structure. It was like
hearing a few notes of music and having the entire composition flow through one's mind: whichever
part of the Golden Temple I might pick out, the entire building echoed within me.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

繊細な細部、複雑な全容はお互ひに照応し、音楽の一小節を思ひ出すことから、その全貌が流れ出すやうに、
どの一部分をとりだしてみても、金閣の全貌が鳴りひびいた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 15:06:45.50

Father's face was buried in early summer flowers. There was something gruesome about the utter
freshness of those flowers. It was as though they were peering down into the bottom of a well.
For a dead man's face falls to an infinite depth beneath the surface which the face possessed when
it was alive, leaving nothing for the survivors to see but the frame of a mask; it falls so deep,
indeed, that it can never be pulled back to the surface.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 15:08:05.12

A dead man's face can tell us better than anything else in this world how far removed we are from
the true existence of physical substance, how impossible it is for us to lay hands on the way in which
this substance exists.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 15:11:50.85

父の顔は初夏の花々に埋もれてゐた。花々はまだ気味のわるいほど、なまなましく生きてゐた。花々は井戸の底を
のぞき込んでゐるやうだつた。なぜなら、死人の顔は生きてゐる顔の持つてゐた存在の表面から無限に陥没し、
われわれに向けられてゐた面の縁のやうなものだけを残して、二度と引き上げられないほどの奥のはうへ落つこちて
ゐたのだから。物質といふものが、いかにわれわれから遠くに存在し、その存在の仕方が、いかにわれわれから
手の届かないものであるかといふことを、死顔ほど如実に語つてくれるものはなかつた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 15:18:18.73

For this was not at all like a meeting； I was merely looking at Father's dead face.
The corpse was just being looked at. I was just looking. To know that looking (the act, that is,
of looking at someone, as one ordinarily does, without any special awareness) was such a proof of
the rights of those who are alive, and that this looking could also be an expression of cruelty―
all this came to me now as a vivid experience.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/07/31(日) 15:20:08.57

対面などではなく、私はただ父の死顔を見てゐた。
屍はただ見られてゐる。私はただ見てゐる。見るといふこと、ふだん何の意識もなしにしてゐるとほり、
見るといふことが、こんなに生ける者の権利の証明でもあり、残酷さの表示でもありうるとは、私にとつて
鮮やかな体験だつた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/01(月) 11:32:47.26

Now and then a sea breeze blew into the temple, puffing up the sleeves of my clerical robe. As I recited
the sutras, I was constantly aware of the posture of the summer clouds as they cast a strong glare
into the corner of my eyes.
An intense light poured constantly from outside the temple onto one side of my face. How brightly
it shone―that insult!

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

ときどき海風が入つて来て、私の僧衣の袂をふくらませた。私は読経してゐる自分の目のはじに、強烈な光りを
彫り込んだ夏の雲の立姿をたえず感じてゐた。
たえず私の顔の半面にそそぎかけるあの厳しい外光。輝やかしいあの侮蔑。……

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/01(月) 11:35:11.46

I was always overcome by amazement at the fact that the temple was actually there, and when I returned
to the hall after a good look at the building, I felt that if I were suddenly to turn round and
look again, its form would vanish exactly like that of Eurydice.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

私には何度見ても、そこに金閣の存在することがふしぎでたまらず、さて眺めたあと本堂のはうへ帰りがてら、
急に背を反してもう一度見ようとすれば、金閣はあのエウリュディケーさながら、姿は忽ち掻き消されてゐるやうに
思はれた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/01(月) 11:37:47.40

His white-shirted stomach rippled with laughter. The rays of the sun that poured through the swaying
branches of the trees made me feel happy. Like the young man's wrinkled shirt, my life was wrinkled.
But, wrinkled as it was, how white his shirt shone in the sunlight! Perhaps I too?

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

彼のシャツの白い腹が波立つた。そこに動いてゐる木洩れ陽が私を幸福にした。こいつのシャツの皺みたいに、
私の人生は皺が寄つてゐる。しかしこのシャツは何と白く光つてゐるだらう、皺が寄つてゐるままに。……
もしかすると私も？

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/01(月) 18:25:38.62

>>126の次
I did not feel that this ancient sooty train was really bound for the city. I felt that it was headed
for the station of death. Once this thought had come into my mind, the smoke that filled our carriage
each time that we passed through a tunnel had the smell of the crematorium.

私にはこの煤けた古い列車が、都を目ざしてゆくやうには思へなかつた。この汽車は死の駅へ向つて進んで
ゐるやうに思はれた。かう思ふとトンネル毎に車内に充ちる煙は、焼場の匂ひがした。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/02(火) 17:39:51.31

Tsurukawa's gentleness taught me that, even if stuttering were removed from my existence, I could
still remain myself. I thoroughly enjoyed being stripped stark naked. Tsurukawa's eyes, bordered
with their long lashes, filtered away my stuttering and accepted the rest of me just as I was.
Until then I had been under the strange illusion that to disregard my stuttering was of itself
equivalent to annihilating that existence called“me.”

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/02(火) 17:44:56.24

私といふ存在から吃りを差引いて、なほ私でありうるといふ発見を、鶴川のやさしさが私に教へた。私はすつぱりと
裸かにされた快さを隈なく味はつた。鶴川の長い睫にふちどられた目は、私から吃りだけを漉し取つて、私を
受け容れてゐた。それまでの私はといへば、吃りであることを無視されることは、それがそのまま、私といふ存在を
抹殺されることだ、と奇妙に信じ込んでゐたのだから。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/02(火) 17:48:19.71

Existing as we did under the same curse, under the same ill-omened fiery destiny, the temple and I had
come to inhabit worlds of the same dimension. Just like my own frail, ugly body, the temple's body,
hard though it was, consisted of combustible carbon. At times I felt that it would be possible for me
to flee this place, taking along the temple concealed in my flesh, in my system―
just as a thief swallows a precious jewel when making his escape.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/02(火) 17:49:24.50

同じ禍ひ、同じ不吉な火の運命の下で、金閣と私の住む世界は同一の次元に属することになつた。私の脆い
醜い肉体と同じく、金閣は硬いながら、燃えやすい炭素の肉体を持つてゐた。さう思ふと、時あつて、逃走する賊が
高貴な宝石を嚥み込んで隠匿するやうに、私の肉のなか、私の組織のなかに、金閣を隠し持つて逃げのびることも
できるやうな気がした。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/02(火) 17:51:29.68

Sometimes the unusual brilliance of the early spring sky appeared to me like the light of the cool
blade of some huge axe that was large enough to cover the entire earth.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

ともすると早春の空のただならぬ燦めきは、地上をおほふほど巨きた斧の、すずしい刃の光りのやうにも思はれた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/03(水) 13:56:37.96

When people concentrate on the idea of beauty, they are, without realizing it, confronted with the
darkest thoughts that exist in this world. That, I suppose, is how human beings are made.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

美といふことだけを思ひつめると、人間はこの世で最も暗黒な思想にしらずしらずぶつかるのである。人間は
多分さういふ風に出来てゐるのである。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/04(木) 15:33:31.68

Yes, Tsurukawa sometimes seemed to me like an alchemist who could transform tin into gold. I was
the negative of the picture; he was the positive. How often had I not been amazed to see how my dark,
turbid feelings could become clear and radiant by being filtered through Tsurukawa's heart!

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

そうだ。時には鶴川は、あの鉛から黄金を作り出す錬金術師のやうにも思はれた。私は写実の陰画、彼は
その陽画であつた。ひとたび彼の心に濾過されると、私の混濁した暗い感情が、ひとつのこらず、透明な、
光りを放つ感情に変るのを、私は何度おどろいて眺めたことであらう！

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/04(木) 15:45:56.42

What is so ghastly about exposed intestines? Why, when we see the insides of a human being, do we
have to cover our eyes in terror? Why are people so shocked at the sight of blood pouring out?
Why are a man's intestines ugly? Is it not exactly the same in quality as the beauty of youthful,
glossy skin? What sort of a face would Tsurukawa make if I were to say that it was from him that
I had learned this manner of thinking―a manner of thinking that transformed my own ugliness into
nothingness?

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/04(木) 15:48:41.62

Why does there seem to be something inhuman about regarding human beings like roses and refusing to
make any distinction between the inside of their bodies and the outside? If only human beings could
reverse their spirits and their bodies, could gracefully turn them inside out like rose petals and
expose them to the spring breeze and to the sun....

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/04(木) 15:54:15.37

なぜ露出した腸が凄惨なのだらう。何故人間の内側を見て、悚然として、目を覆つたりしなければならないのであらう。
何故血の流出が、人に衝撃を与へるのだらう。何故人間の内臓が醜いのだらう。……それはつやつやした
若々しい皮膚の美しさと、全く同質のものではないか。……私が自分の醜さを無に化するやうなかういふ考へ方を、
鶴川から教はつたと云つたら、彼はどんな顔をするだらうか？　内側と外側、たとへば人間を薔薇の花のやうに
内も外もないものとして眺めること、この考へがどうして非人間的に見えてくるのであらうか？　もし人間が
その精神の内側と肉体の内側を、薔薇の花弁のやうに、しなやかに飜へし、捲き返して、日光や五月の微風に
さらすことができたとしたら……

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/05(金) 15:08:20.86

>>144の次
This happened many years ago when I was only thirteen, but the memory of those hands is still alive
within me. Incomparably large hands. Hands that had been put round me from behind, blotting out
in one second the sight of that hell which I had seen. Hands from another world. Whether it was
from love or compassion or shame, I do not know; but those hands had instantaneously cut off the
terrifying world with which I was confronted and had buried it in darkness.

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/05(金) 15:10:37.08

I nodded slightly within those hands. From that nodding of my small head, Father could instantly tell
that I had understood and that I was ready to acquiesce; he removed his hands. And, afterwards,
just as those hands had ordered, I kept my eyes obstinately closed, and thus lay there sleeplessly
until morning came and the dazzling light from outside forced its way through my eyelids.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/05(金) 15:14:37.32

今もその掌の記憶は活きてゐる。たとへやうもないほど広大な掌。背後から廻されて来て、私の見てゐた地獄を、
忽ちにしてその目から覆ひ隠した掌。他界の掌。愛か、慈悲か、屈辱からかは知らないが、私の接してゐた
怖ろしい世界を、即座に中断して、闇のなかに葬つてしまつた掌。
私はその掌の中でかるくうなづいた。諒解と合意が、私の小さな顔のうなづきから、すぐ察せられて、父の掌は
外された。……そして私は、掌の命ずるまま、掌の外されたのちも、不眠の朝が明けて、瞼がまばゆい外光に
透かされるまで、頑なに目を閉ぢつづけた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/05(金) 16:24:41.99

The darkening courtyard had become the color of the sea bed. The stones sank in the gloom, and
from their form one might have thought they had been struggling fiercely with each other.

寺の薄暮の中庭は海底の色になつた。石は激しく格闘した形のまま沈んでゐる。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/06(土) 15:43:49.75

The swelling became firmly rooted and began to press on me from the back of my neck with a heavy,
hot force. In my fitful sleep, I dreamed that a pure golden light was growing on my neck, surrounding
the back of my head with a sort of elliptical halo and gradually expanding. But when I awoke, this
turned out to have been merely the pain from my virulent swelling.

できものは根を張り、首のうしろから、熱い重い力でのしかかつた。途絶えがちな眠りのあひだに、私は金無垢の
光背がわが首に生え、頭のうしろを楕円にとりかこむために、すこしづつ生ひ茂つてゐる夢を見た。目がさめると、
しかしそれは、悪意のある腫物の疼きにすぎなかつた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/06(土) 15:46:51.16

The surgeon, who was dressed in a national uniform with gaiters, diagnosed my swelling by the
simple name of Flunkel. Not wanting to use any alcohol, he disinfected his knife by holding it over
a flame and then applied it to my neck. I groaned. The hot, burdensome world burst open in the
back of my head, and I felt it shriveling up and collapsing.

国民服に脚絆をつけた外科医は、この出来物にフルンケルといふ簡単な名を与へ、アルコールを惜しんで、火であぶつて消毒したメスを
あてがつた。
私は呻いた。熱い重苦しい世界が、私の後頭部で、はじけ、萎み、衰へるのが感じられた。……

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/06(土) 15:58:05.54

The country's defeat was for me just such an experience of despair. Even now I can see before me
the flame-like summer light of that day of defeat, August 15. People said that all values had collapsed;
but within myself, on the contrary, eternity awoke, was resuscitated, and asserted its rights. The
eternity which told me that the Golden Temple was to remain there forever.
The eternity that descended from heaven,sticking to our cheeks, our hands, our stomachs, and finally
burying us. How cursed a thing it was! Yes, in the cries of the cicadas that echoed from the
surrounding hills, I could hear this eternity, which was like a curse on my head, which had shut me up
in the golden plaster.

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/06(土) 15:59:43.58

敗戦は私にとつては、かうした絶望の体験に他ならなかつた。今も私の前には、八月十五日の焔のやうな夏の光りが見える。すべての
価値が崩壊したと人は言ふが、私の内にはその逆に、永遠が目ざめ、蘇り、その権利を主張した。金閣がそこに
未来永劫存在するといふことを語つてゐる永遠。
天から降つて来て、われわれの頬に、手に、腹に貼りついて、われわれを埋めてしまふ永遠。この呪はしいもの。
……さうだ。まはりの山々の蝉の声にも、終戦の日に、私はこの呪詛のやうな永遠を聴いた。それが私を金いろの
壁土に塗りこめてしまつてゐた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/06(土) 16:02:17.05

I myself did not feel the slightest unhappiness about having lost the war, but the Superior's look of
overflowing delight had made me uneasy.

戦争に敗けたからと云つて、決して私は不幸なのではなかつた。しかし老師のあの満ち足りた幸福さうな顔は気にかかつた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/07(日) 10:17:34.55

It struck me as strange that a Zen priest also should have flesh. The reason that the Superior had
indulged himself so thoroughly with women could have been that he wished to show his scorn of the
flesh by throwing it away from himself. But if that were so, it seemed strange that this flesh which
he so despised should have absorbed ample nourishment and that it should be sleekly wrapping itself
about his spirit. Docile, humble flesh like some well-trained domestic animal. Flesh that was
exactly like a concubine for the Superior's spirit.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/07(日) 10:19:44.03

私は禅僧にも肉体のあることがふしぎでならなかつた。老師が女遊びをし尽したのは、肉体を捨離して、肉を
軽蔑するためだつたと思はれる。それなのに、その軽蔑された肉が思ふまま栄養を吸つて、つやつやして、
老師の精神を包んでゐるのはふしぎに思はれる。よく馴らされた家畜のやうな温順な、謙遜な肉。和尚の
精神にとつては、まさに妾のやうなその肉……。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/07(日) 10:24:57.22

I must state what the defeat really meant to me.
It was not a liberation. No, it was by no means a liberation. It was nothing else than a return to
the unchanging, eternal Buddhist routine, which merged into our daily life.

私にとつて、敗戦が何であつたかを言つておかなくてはならない。
それは解放ではなかつた。断じて解放ではなかつた。不変のもの、永遠なもの、日常のなかに融け込んでゐる
仏教的な時間の復活に他ならなかつた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/07(日) 10:26:38.82

Nothing seemed to bother Tsurukawa. He fitted perfectly into the pattern of his life, like a chopstick
in its box.

彼には少しも物事が苦にならぬらしかつた。箸箱にきちんとはまつてゐる箸のやうに。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/08(月) 14:32:51.78

I imagined this bold, cruel, sharp-eyed officer as he stood there, about to rush headlong towards evil.
The path along which he was going to run in his half-length military boots revealed the precise
quality of death in battle; it had a form of disorder that reminded me of the crimson glow at dawn.
As he set off, his white silk scarf would be fluttering at his breast, and his cheeks would be
exposed to the cold night wind that still lingered in the early morning. His back would be bent
double with the weight of the stolen goods: he would wear himself out with magnificent speed. But
more in the distance, more lightly, I could hear the bell of disorder ringing in the bell tower.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/08(月) 14:36:05.61

あの豪胆で、残酷な、鋭い目をした士官は、まさに悪へ向つて駈け出したのだと私は思つた。彼の半長靴が
駈ける道のゆくてには、戦争における死とそつくりな貌をした、朝焼けのやうな無秩序があつた。胸もとに
白絹のマフラーをひるがへし、盗んだ物質を背が曲るほど背負ひ込んで、夜のなごりの風に頬をさらして、彼は
出発するだらう。彼はすばらしい速さで磨滅するだらう。しかしもつと遠くで、もつと軽やかに、無秩序の
輝やく鐘楼の鐘は鳴つてゐる。……

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/08(月) 14:40:30.84

“Don't you have any worries or hopes about the future?”I asked him.
“No, none at all. What good would it do if I did?”
There was nothing gloomy in the way that he said this, nor did he speak haphazardly. Just then a
flash of lighting lit up his narrow, gently sloping eyebrows, which were the only delicate part of
his features. Tsurukawa evidently let the barber have his way in shaving the top and bottom of his
eyebrows; as a result his already narrow eyebrows were made even narrower and one could see a faint
blue shadow at the ends where the razor had passed.

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/08(月) 14:42:42.35

As I glanced at this blue, I was seized with uneasiness. The young boy who sat in front of me burned
at the pure extremity of life. He was different from me. His future was so concealed that he was
burning. The wick of his future was floating in cool, clear oil. Who in this world was obliged to
foresee his own innocence and purity? That is, if only innocence and purity remained for him in the
future.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/09(火) 10:39:24.46

「君は、未来のことに、何の不安も希望も持たへんのか？」
「持つてないんだ、何も。だつて、持つてゐて何になるんだ」
かう答へた鶴川の語調には、わづかな暗さも、投げやりな調子もなかつた。そのとき稲妻が、彼の顔だちの唯一の
繊細な部分である細いなだらかな眉を照らし出した。床屋がさうするままに、鶴川は眉の上下を剃らせるらしかつた。
そこで細い眉はいよいよ人工的に細く、眉のはづれの一部に、剃りあとの仄かな青い翳を宿してゐた。
私はちらとその青さを見て、不安に搏たれた。この少年は私などとはちがつて、生命の純潔な末端のところで
燃えてゐるのだ。燃えるまでは、未来は隠されてゐる。未来の灯芯は透明な冷たい油のなかに涵つてゐる。
誰が自分の純潔と無垢を予見する必要があるだらう。もし未来に純潔と無垢だけしか残されてゐないならば。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/09(火) 10:47:55.44

When I was a child, I had often turned my head up to the snow with my mouth wide open. I did so now,
and the snowflakes touched my teeth, making a noise as if they were striking a very thin piece of
tin foil. I felt that the snow was scattering throughout the warm cavity of my mouth and melting
as if reached the red surface of the flesh. At that instant I imagined the mouth of the phoenix on
top of the Kukyocho. The hot, smooth mouth of that mysterious and golden-colored bird.
Snow gives all of us a youthful feeling. And would it be quite untrue to say that I, who still had
not reached my eighteenth birthday, now felt some youthful stirring within me?

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/09(火) 12:34:54.03

子供のころよくさうしたものだが、私は今も天にむかつて大きく口をあけた。すると雪片はごく薄い錫の箔を
うちあてるやうな音を立てて、私の歯にさはり、さて、温かい口腔の中へ、隈なく雪が散つて来て、私の赤い肉の
おもてに融け浸み入るのが感じられた。そのとき私は究竟頂上の鳳凰の口を想像してゐたのだつた。あの金色の
怪鳥の、なめらかな熱い口を。
雪は私たちを少年らしい気持にさせる。まして私は年を越しても、まだ十八歳なのである。私が少年らしい躍動を
身内に感じてゐたとしても、それが嘘にならうか？

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/09(火) 12:37:27.65

“Why doesn't the snow stutter? I wondered. Sometimes, when the snow brushed against the leaves of
the yatsude, it fell to the ground as if it were in fact stuttering. But when I felt myself bathed
in the snow as if descended mildly from the sky without any interruption, I forgot the kinks in
my heart and seemed to return to some more gentle spiritual rhythm, as if I were being bathed in music.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/10(水) 09:15:33.40

どうして雪は吃らぬのか？　と私は考へた。それは八つ手の葉に障（さや）るときなど、吃つたやうに降つて、
地に落ちることもあつた。しかし遮ぎるもののない空から、流麗に落ちてくる雪を浴びてゐると、私の心の屈曲は
忘れられ、音楽を浴びてゐるやうに、私の精神はすなほな律動を取戻した。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/10(水) 09:24:05.50

Today, too, the doors of the Kukyocho had been opened to the snowy sky. As I gazed up at it, I observed
minutely how the falling snowflakes whirled round in the small space where there was nothing of the
Kukyocho, and how, then, they settled on the old, tarnished gold-foil of its walls and stayed there
until they had formed small patches of golden dew.

究竟頂の扉は今日も雪空に向つて開け放たれてゐた。そこを見上げてゐる私の心は、降り込む雪片が、究竟頂の
何もない小さな空間を飛びめぐり、やがて壁面の古い錆びた金箔にとまつて、生絶えて、小さな金いろの露を
結ぶにいたるまでの、逐一を見るのであつた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/17(水) 08:59:50.46

☆

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/17(水) 12:37:53.16

The only thing that really counts in a man is his get-up-and-go. If he's got get-up-and-go he's a
real man, and those are the kind of men we need here on Uta-jima. Family and money are all secondary.

Yukio Mishima, The Sound of Waves

男は気力や。気力があればええのや。この歌島の男はそれでなかいかん。家柄や財産は二の次や。

「潮騒」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/25(木) 11:39:20.01

Perhaps a lyrical poet lurked within that huge body of his, but I felt that there was cruelty in
his clear, blue eyes. The Western nursery-rhyme“Mother Goose”refers to black eyes as being cruel
and malicious; the fact is that when people imagine cruelty, they normally assign some foreign
character to it.

巨きな体躯にも似ず、彼は抒情詩人なのかもしれないが、その澄んだ青い目は残酷に感じられた。「マザア・
グウス」といふ外国の童話に、黒い目のことを意地悪で残酷だと歌つてゐるが、異国的なものに託して人間は、
残酷さを夢みるのが通例なのであらうか。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/25(木) 12:28:35.40

For my deed had settled like gold dust within my memory and had begun to give off a glittering light
that constantly pierced my eyes. The glitter of evil. Yes, that was it. It may have been a very
minor evil, but I was now endowed with the vivid consciousness that I had in fact committed evil.
This consciousness hung like some decoration on the inside of my breast.

あの行為は砂金のやうに私の記憶に沈殿し、いつまでも目を射る煌めきを放ちだした。悪の煌めき。さうだ。
たとへ些細な悪にもせよ、悪を犯したといふ明瞭な意識は、いつのまにか私に備はつた。勲章のやうに、それは
私の胸の内側にかかつてゐた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/25(木) 15:49:00.40

I was always aware of a freshness in the male voices as they recited the sutras in unison during the
morning task. The sound of those morning sutras was the strongest of the whole day. The strong voices
seemed to scatter all the evil thoughts that had gathered during the night, and it was as though a
black spray were gushing from the vocal chords of all the singers and being splashed about. I do not
know about myself. I do not know, but it heartened me strangely to think that my voice was scattering
away the same masculine evil thoughts as the others.

Yukio Mishima, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/25(木) 15:50:13.72

朝課の経のとき、私はいつもその合唱する男の声に、生々しさを感じるのが常であつた。一日のうちでも朝課の
経の声は力強いが、その声の強さが、夜じゆうの妄念をあたりに吹き散らし、声帯から黒い繁吹がほとばしつて
ゐるやうである。私のことはわからない。わからないが私の声も、同じ男の汚れを撒き散らしてゐると思ふことは、
私を奇妙な具合に勇気づけた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/27(土) 10:18:23.79

>>140前
The surrounding hills with their red pines were mantled in the cry of the cicadas, as though countless
invisible priests were chanting the vocation for the Extinction of Fires.

金閣をめぐる赤松の山々は蝉の声に包まれてゐた。無数の見えない僧が消災呪を称へてゐるかのやうに。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/29(月) 14:40:05.70

There was a certain severe beauty in his pale face. Physically he was a cripple, yet there was
an intrepid beauty about him, like that of a lovely woman. Cripples and lovely woman are both tired of
being looked at, they are weary of an existence that involves constantly being observed, they feel
hemmed in; and they return the gaze by means of that very existence itself. The one who really looks
is the one who wins.

彼の蒼ざめた顔には、一種険しい美しさがあつた。肉体上の不具者は美貌の女と同じ不敵な美しさを持つてゐる。
不具者も、美貌の女も、見られることに疲れて、見られる存在であることに飽き果てて、追ひつめられて、
存在そのもので見返してゐる。見たはうが勝なのだ。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/29(月) 15:42:54.77

People with comic looks like me are extremely adept at avoiding the danger of appearing tragic by
mistake. I knew very well that if I once began to appear tragic, people would no longer feel at ease
when they came into contact with me. It was especially important for the souls of other people that
I should never appear to be a wretched figure.

滑稽な外形を持つた男は、まちがつて自分が悲劇的に見えることを賢明に避ける術を知つてゐる。もし悲劇的に
見えたら、人はもはや自分に対して安心して接することがなくなるのを知つてゐるからだ。自分をみじめに
見せないことは、何より他人の魂のために重要だ。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/29(月) 16:00:32.82

In the first place, doesn't uneasiness about one's existence spring precisely from a sort of luxurious
dissatisfaction at the thought that one may not be living fully?

そもそも存在の不安とは、自分が十分に存在してゐないといふ贅沢な不満から生まれるものではないのか。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/08/29(月) 16:12:30.85

Who could say that if one were to look without dreaming at any woman, however beautiful she might be,
her face would not be transformed into the face of this old woman?

どんな美女の顔も、些かの夢もなしに見るとき、この老婆の顔に変貌しない、と誰が云へよう。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/09/01(木) 14:50:40.76

I was released from uneasiness. I was released from love. The world had come to a permanent standstill
and at the same time it had arrived. Do I have to elucidate this by saying‘our world'? Thus in a
single phrase I can define the great illusion concerning‘love’in this world. It is the effort to
join reality with the apparition.

不安もない。愛も、ないのだ。世界は永久に停止してをり、同時に到達してゐるのだ。この世界にわざわざ、
「われわれの世界」と註する必要があるだらうか。俺はかくて、世間の「愛」に関する迷蒙を一言の下に
定義することができる。それは仮象が実相に結びつかうとする迷蒙だと。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/09/19(月) 14:36:29.59

How do you suppose they managed to keep peace and order during the war if it wasn't by staging
public exhibitions of violent death? The reason that they stopped having public executions was,
I gather, because they were afraid it would make people bloodthirsty. Damned stupid if you ask me!
The people who cleared away the dead bodies after the air raids all had gentle, cheerful expressions.

戦争中の安寧秩序は、人の非業の死の公開によつて保たれてゐたと思はないかね。死刑の公開が行はれなくなつたのは、
人心を殺伐ならしめると考へられたからださうだ。ばかげた話さ。空襲中の死体を片附けてゐた人たちは、
みんなやさしい快活な様子をしてゐた。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/09/19(月) 14:45:55.63

To see human beings in agony, to see them covered in blood and to hear their death groans, makes
people humble. It makes their spirits delicate, bright, peaceful. It's never at such times that
we become cruel or bloodthirsty. No, it's on a beautiful spring afternoon like this that people
suddenly become cruel. It's at a moment like this, don't you think, while one's vaguely watching
the sun as it peeps through the leaves of the trees above a well-mown lawn? Every possible nightmare
in the world, every possible nightmare in history, has come into being like this.

人の苦悶と血と断末魔の呻きを見ることは、人間を謙虚にし、人の心を繊細に、明るく、和やかにするんだのに。
俺たちが残虐になつたり、殺伐になつたりするのは、決してそんなときではない。俺たちが突如として残虐になるのは、
たとへばこんなうららかな春の午後、よく刈り込まれた芝生の上に、木洩れ陽の戯れてゐるのをぼんやり
眺めてゐるときのやうな、さういふ瞬間だと思はないかね。
世界中のありとあらゆる悪夢、歴史上のありとあらゆる悪夢はさういふ風にして生れたんだ。

「金閣寺」

**のほほん名無しさん** · 2011/10/04(火) 15:24:02.64

〇