in the afternoon in May

Nowadays we can buy any kind of vegetable at market regardless of season. Among them broad beans are exceptionally seasonable.


My neighbour has a vegetable garden. Today she gave me some broad beans. I'll boil them for our supper. To cook some fresh seasonal food is one of my small pleasure.

そら豆の殻一せいに鳴る夕 母につながるわれのソネット 寺山修司（1935～1982)

husks of broad beans

rustling all together

this evening―

my sonnet

connected to mother

written by Shūji Terayama

translated by Amelia Fielden

I suppose that Terayama's mother grew broad beans in her vegetable garden.

Usually beans grow in abundance in the short term, so many of them are left behind after gathering. Terayama seems to remember the sound of rustling which I do not know.




Yet I know the sound of string beans  rustling which my grand mother grew.
The dry light sound on the wind comes to me from far away and far distant past.

 

 

On the other hand, tiny wild beans are growing before my nose in a small field.

They look like children holding hands with each other.

This field is next to a small pond and a part of the field is covered with clover, and it is near some vegetable gardens.

I take a walk with my dog around here time to time .



Today I did not meet anyone but some little butterflies.

Seeing them in the field I remembered some past scenes which were connected with my dead mother and some old friends.

The memories flash back like the dim light which ripples toward the roots of new leaves of reeds, or shining surface of a river in backlight as it is shown in an old photo which I took with my film camera.

翅を閉じさかしまに蝶眠る野にたまゆらわれは白昼夢見つ　haricot

Hanging upside down

on a little flower

Butterfly is still with its wings shut,

I do have a momentary day dream

in the same field