The Book of Tea: 16

Chapter VI

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

 第六章、花が始まります.この翻訳も終盤ですね.花への天心の気持ち、多くの人が共感できるのではないでしょうか.最初は詩的な美しい散文から始まりますが、四段落から始まる花目線の痛烈な描写といったら.

Flowers

IN the trembling grey of a spring dawn, when the birds were whispering in mysterious cadence among the trees, have you not felt the they were talking to their mates about the flowers? Surely with mankind the appreciation of flowers must have been coeval with the poetry of love. Where better than in a flower, sweet in its unconsciousness, fragrant because of its silence, can we image the unfolding of a virgin soul? The primeval man in offering the first garland to his maiden thereby transcended the brute. He became human in thus rising above the crude necessities of nature. He entered the realm of art when he perceived the subtle use of the useless.

 春の曙の薄明に、林の中で鳥たちが神秘的な調子でさえずるとき、彼らが仲間と花について会話をしているような気持ちになったことはないだろうか.確かに花の鑑賞は人類にとって愛の詩を唄った時と同時期であろう.花において優れているところは、その無自覚なゆえに美しく、その静寂ゆえの芳しさなくして、どうして我々は顕になっていない純潔の精神を想起できるだろうか.太古の男性が彼の恋人に初めて花飾りを贈ることで、彼は蛮人から超越したのである.彼は自然の粗雑な本能を脱してこうして人間となったのだ.彼は無用のものを巧妙に使うことを知覚したときに芸術の世界へ入ったのであった.

In the joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends. We eat, drink, sing, dance, and flirt with them. We wed and christen with flowers. We dare not die without them. We have worshipped with the lily, we have meditated with he lotus, we have charged in battle array with the rose and the chrysanthemum. We have even attempted to speak in the language of flowers. How could we live without them? It frightens one to conceive of a world bereft of their presence. What solace do they not bring to the bedside of the sick, what a light of bliss to the darkness of weary spirits? Their serene tenderness restores to us our waning confidence in the universe even as the intent gaze of a beautiful child recalls our lost hopes. When we are laid low in the dust it is they who linger in sorrow over our graves.

 楽しいときや悲しいとき、花は我々の永遠の友人である.我々は食べ、飲み、踊り、そして彼らとうつつを抜かす.我々は花とともに婚礼を挙げ、洗礼する.花なくして死ぬことはできない.我らは百合とともに敬い、蓮とともに瞑想し、薔薇と菊とともに戦陣に集ってきた.我々は花言葉で話そうとさえした.彼らなしに生きていけるだろうか.花の存在のない世界を考えるだけで恐ろしい.病床に花がないとしたらどんなに悲しいだろうか、疲れ果てた魂の闇に祝福の光を与えるのは何だろうか.可愛らしい子供をじっと見つめることでさえ我々の失われた希望を呼び戻すように、花の透き通った優しさは宇宙における我々の衰えつつある信頼を取り戻してくれる.我々が土に還るときに墓の上で悲しみに寄り添ってくれるのは花である.

Sad as it is, we cannot conceal the fact that in spite of our companionship with flowers we have not risen very far above the brute. Scratch the sheepskin and the wolf within us will soon show his teeth. It has been said that man at ten is an animal, at twenty a lunatic, at thirty a failure, at forty a fraud, and at fifty a criminal. Perhaps he becomes a criminal because he has never ceased to be an animal. Nothing is real to us but hunger, nothing sacred except our own desires. Shrine after shrine has crumbled before our eyes; but one altar forever is preserved, that whereon we burn incense to the supreme idol, –ourselves. Our god is great, and money is his Prophet! We devastate nature in order to make sacrifice to him. We boast that we have conquered Matter and forget that it is Matter that has enslaved us. What atrocities do we not perpetrate in the name of culture and refinement!

 悲しいことに、我々は花との友情にもかかわらず、あまり獣性を脱していないことを隠せずにいる.羊の皮を剥げばたちまち我々の中の狼が牙をむく.人は十代になると獣になり、二十代で狂人になり、三十代で失意にくれ、四十代で詐欺師となり、五十代で罪人となるといわれてきた.おそらく動物であることを辞めたことがないゆえに罪人になるのである.飢えを除いて現実的なものはなく、自己の望みのほか神聖なものはない.我々の眼前にある神社仏閣が次々に壊れてしまった.しかし一つの祭壇は保存されて、そこで我々は「自己」という至上の偶像に香を炊くのである.神は偉大で、金銭はその預言者である!私達は自然を犠牲にするため自然を破壊する.我々は物質を征服したのだと鼻にかけるも、物質が我々を従えているのだということを忘れている.文化と洗練という名の下、我々が犯す残虐性のほどはなんとひどいものか!

Tell me, gentle flowers, teardrops of the stars, standing in the garden, nodding your heads to the bees as they sing of the dews and the sunbeams, are you aware of the fearful doom that await you? Dream on, sway and frolic while you may in the gentle breezes of summer. Tomorrow a ruthless hand will close around your throats. You will be wrenched, torn asunder limb by limb, and borne away from your quiet homes. The wrench, she may be passing fair. She may say how lovely you are while her fingers are still moist with your blood. Tell me, will this be kindness? It may be your fate to be imprisoned in the hair of one whom you know to be heartless or to be thrust into the button-hole of who would not dare to look you in the face were you a man. It may even be your lot to be confined in some narrow vessel with only stagnant water to quench the maddening thirst that warns of ebbing life.

 教えてほしい、優しい花よ、星の涙よ、庭に立ち、蜂が雫の歌を口ずさむと蜂と日光に頭を垂れている花よ、汝は待ち構える恐ろしい運命に気づいているのか.夢見よ、揺らぎ戯れて夏の優しい微風にいる間は.明日は無慈悲な手がお前の喉を締めてしまうかもしれない.拗じられ、手足が分たれ、静かな生家から離れてしまうかもしれぬ.その一捻りは行きずりの淑女かもしれぬ.その指がお前の血でまだ湿っている間に、お前がどんなに愛らしいか告げるやもしれないのだ.これが優しさなのだろうか.お前にとって非常なものの髪に閉じ込められるか、お前が男ならばお前の顔を見ようともしない女のボタンの穴にねじ込まれる運命かもしれないのだ.命の衰退を警告する狂わせるような渇きを満たす、よどんだ水ばかりの狭い瓶に留められるのは、お前の定めなのかもしれぬ.

Flowers, if you were in the land of the Mikado, you might some time meet a dread personage armed with scissors and a tiny saw. He would call himself a Master of Flowers. He would claim the rights of a doctor and you would instinctively hate him, for you know a doctor always seeks to prolong the troubles of his victims. He would contort your muscles and dislocate your bones like any osteopath. He would burn you with red-hot coals to stop your bleeding, and thrust wires into you to assist your circulation. He would diet you with salt, vinegar, alum, and sometimes, vitriol. Boiling water would be poured on your feet when you seemed ready to faint. It would be his boast that he could keep life within you for two or more weeks longer than would have been possible without his treatment. Would you not have preferred to have been killed at once when you were first captured? What were the crimes you must have committed during your past incarnation to warrant such punishment in this?

 花よ、もしお前が御門の国にいるならば、鋏と小鋸をもった恐ろしい人物にあうことがいくらかあるかもしれない.彼は自身を花の宗匠と呼ぶ.彼は医者の権限を主張しお前は本能的に嫌うだろう.なぜなら医者というのは常にその患者の厄介事を引き延ばそうとするからだ.彼は筋肉を捻じ曲げ、整骨医の如く骨を脱臼させるだろう.赤く熱い炭で出血を止めようと燃やすだろう.そして、お前の循環を助けるために針金を突き刺すだろう.彼はお前に塩、酢、明礬、そして時折硫酸をかけて食うだろう.失神しそうに見える時、足に沸々とした湯が注がれるだろう.彼の治療なく放おっておいたよりも二、三週間ほど生きながらさせたといって自慢の種にするかもしれない.お前ならば最初に捕らわれたならばすぐに殺される方を選ぶであろう.このような罰を受けるとはお前の前世はどのような罪を犯したのだろうか.

The wanton waste of flowers among Western communities is even more appalling than the way they are treated by Eastern Flower Masters. The number of flowers cut daily to adorn the ballroom and banquet-tables of Europe and America, to be thrown away on the morrow, must be something enormous; if strung together they might garland a continent. Beside this utter carelessness of life, the guilt of the Flower-Master becomes insignificant. He, at least, respects the economy of nature, selects his victims with careful foresight, and after death does honour to their remains. In the west the display of flowers seemed to be a part of the pageantry of wealth, –the fancy of a moment. Whither do they all go, these flowers, when the revelry is over? Nothing is more pitiful than to see a faded flower remorselessly flung upon a during heap.

 西洋社会の間での無残な花の消費は東洋の花の宗匠によって扱われる方法よりもはるかに残忍である.アメリカやヨーロッパの舞踏室や晩餐の食卓を飾るため毎日何本もの花が切られ、翌日には捨てられる量は凄まじいに違いない.もしすべてを結んだら大陸を一周するであろう.それに加えこの圧倒的な生命への不注意、花の宗匠の罪はそれほどではない.彼は少なくとも、自然の経済を尊重し、犠牲を慎重な先見の明で選ぶ.そして彼らの残りに対して敬意を表する.静養では富の虚飾の一部のように花が陳列される.一瞬の享楽である.彼らはどこへいくのか.花よ、いつになれば幻想は終わるのだ.屍の山の上に無慈悲に投げられる花がしおれていくのを見るほど忍びないものはない.

投稿者:

吾郎

2020年6月にブログ開設.生き延びるための様々な問題を精神病理学に基づいて取り扱っています!ぜひぜひ気軽に遊びに来て下さいね.Our articles include essay, translation, study about literature, psychiatry(psychopathology), humanities.