Incarceration

Translated by Michihiro Ama in “Neglected Diary, Forgotten Buddhist Couple: Tana Daisho’s Internment Camp Diary as Historical and Literary Text,” Journal of Global Buddhism 14 (2013)

Saying, “To the Buddha,” young girls pick flowers and hand them to me;

I delightedly offer them to the Buddha.

みほとけにと手折りし花を少女らは我に給ひぬうれしく供ふ

From the peaks of the Sierras, winds blow this way and that:

In the dead of night, I pile on more clothes because of cold.

シエルの嶺ゆ吹き来る風の冷たさに真夜ともなればかけ衣をます

During a Dharma Talk, cries of a cricket are heard from time to time;

How like the voices of the Buddha.

法語つづくひまひまにきくこほろぎの音もみ仏のみこゑかのごと

Opening a sacred text I carry;

The voices of the devout chant a sutra in unison.

我がもちし聖典ひらき人びとの声を合はして誦経をするかも

When rains come, clouds leave.

How like the world of impermanence

This sudden change, where no one lives forever.

(Ama, p. 51)

雨くると空の雲ゆきすぐ変わる常なき人の世のさまに似て

（『サンタフェー・ローズバーグ戦時敵国人抑留所日記』第一巻　１９４)

Minding a sick child who seeks mother’s affection,

I cannot progress with my needlework, or even wipe away my perspiration.

母恋ふる病む児を憶ひ針もてる手もすすまざる汗も拭(ふ)かざる

Skimming his diary without stop makes my eyes moist;

When I put it down, I realize I have forgotten to even wipe off my perspiration.

うるむ瞳(め)を日記に走らせいきつかずよみ終りたり汗もわすれて

Wandering without a husband for whom I yearn,

I look with nostalgia at his handwriting, reading it again and again.

さまよへる我を導くなつかしき夫の筆あとくり返し読む

My husband is about to touch my face;

When I awake from that dream, the flickering of stars enters my eyes.

夫の手の我が面(も)に触るるとして醒めし目に入るものか星のまたたき

The lullaby I croon seems to wake the child;

He croons with me while half asleep.

(Ama, p. 52)

めしか歌ふ調べに小さき子は覚むると見えず共に歌ひぬ

（『サンタフェー・ローズバーグ戦時敵国人抑留所日記』第一巻 ２５０)