The first version of this translation, which was up from December 2024 to July 2025, was tone-deaf. I did a complete re-translation/re-write while lain up in hospital with a violent stomach infection. It was a really quiet room, come to think of it. But solitary. And with a lot missing. On the other hand, I did watch Episodes 1 to 10 of Shinichiro Watanabe & company's Lazarus for the first time there, so: across certain stretches of elusive time, the room was as full as I could wish.
That's not to imply the new version is perfect! This text of Takashi's is subtle, and recalcitrant! Like the ice it tells of, the poem refuses to leave its old form behind so easily. That word こうして in particular is doing a lot of (seemingly untranslatable! -- but only seemingly!) work.
Hiro's setting and arrangement bring out these word's nuances wonderfully, though, so at least I have a guide. I need to listen more, live with the song longer, and revisit the work every now and then. It's the verses that are slippery. Unmelted. I'll get there -- I've just got to be patient...
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The gentle sound of melting ice
reverberates around us.
The ice is in no hurry.
It doesn't seem
to have much to say
as it awaits its transformation.
Isn't it so quiet here,
with the two of us
just like this?
Straining my ears,
I think I can even hear
the murmur of your heart.
Isn't it so quiet here?
Come, have a look through the window
and see
how slow the flow of time can be.
It doesn't feel like anything is missing, now,
and you're already getting sleepy.
Isn't it so quiet here,
with the two of us
just like this?
Straining my ears,
I think I can even hear
the murmur of your heart.
Isn't it so quiet here?
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