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seven months pass...
Here's a translation of Sayonara, one of the two Japanese songs on What, Me Worry?
...
(spoken)
It's really such good, bright weather...
The sun's glare casts a shadow behind the two of us.
(sung)
You swing your hand so broadly it seems it's about to fall off.
I close my dazzled eyes.
Such nice weather
and I'm going to say goodbye...
A bright goodbye
A bright goodbye
(spoken)
In such good, quiet weather,
the cicadas are singing a little too loud...
(sung)
You swing your hand so broadly it seems it's about to fall off.
I'll be alright -- for sure I'll be alright.
I'm going to say goodbye sadly to you,
bathed as you are in the bright light.
A bright goodbye
A bright goodbye
...
This song could bring me to tears before I even attended to the lyrics; how much more so, now? I love you forever, YT.
― TheNuNuNu, Saturday, 3 February 2024 06:54 (two months ago) link
And the other, Flashback (Sakamoto's music, Takahashi's words). Didn't quite cry while translating this one, but a couple times I had to stop and say, "Holy fuck." There are elegant elements of the Japanese that I couldn't get across in English -- places where Takahashi's text is poignantly succinct, or beautifully vague, or drifts off in just the right way.
...
A phantasm drifts at the edge of the water,
rustling faintly and sadly in the weeds.
Back then every day was like a dream.
That fragrance always flooding everything.
In the full light of a lovely morning,
my heart cracked. Come, let's find somewhere to throw it away.
And honestly, I didn't understand any of it,
any of the absurd falsehoods spoken over and over and over again.
To this day, I try and summon the faded images of what I witnessed --
though, where...? I can't remember.
Deep in the tender twilight,
my heart cracked. Come, let's find somewhere to throw it away.
[instrumental verse]
To this day, I try and summon the faded images of what I witnessed --
though, where...? I can't remember.
Deep in the tender twilight,
my heart cracked. Come, let's find somewhere to throw it away.
To this day, I try and remember
the fading colors, the timeworn tale, the customary scene.
A phantasm drifts at the edge of the water,
rustling faintly and sadly in the weeds.
Back then every day was like a dream.
Always that faint fragrance in the shadow of the flowers.
― TheNuNuNu, Sunday, 4 February 2024 03:32 (two months ago) link