Saturday, May 2, 2009

チューリップと、雨。 - Tulips and rain.


それと足並みを合わせるように体はひどく痛く、これまた久しぶりに、壊れた蛇口のように、泣いた。 それが私を弱くしたかも知れないが、体が痛かったから泣いたのでは、ない。


今週は同じように友人の死を悼むお友達と会い、一緒にお買い物をし、気分が明るくなるかと思いチューリップの花束を買って家に生けた。 確かにそれらは綺麗で、家は明るくなったが、気持ちは残念ながら明るくならなかった。


でもこれを書いていて涙は止まったし、生きていれば、明日また(雲のむこうにしろ)日は昇り、新しい日がやってくる。 雨が植物の恵みであるように、涙も心にしみて栄養になるのかも知れない。



We've had a good run of sunny days, and today it's finally rainy.

Along with the rain outside my body ached terribly, and as if to match the rain, my eyes leaked like a broken faucet. The pain may have buckled my will, but it didn't cause the tears.

Our feelings, as much as we'd like to believe, aren't always controllable.

This week I saw a friend who also mourned our friends' untimely deaths, so we could support one another. We shopped together at Whole Foods, and in their glorious cheerful display, I spotted beautiful tulips. I thought flowers were supposed to cheer us up, so I bought some and arranged them in a vase.

They did brighten the room, but they didn't cheer me up.

We try all sorts of tactics to control our emotions. I learned today that emotions don't work like a neat formula.

But by writing this my tears stopped, and if we're alive, a new day will come in the morning, and the sun will rise again (even if it's behind clouds). The rain will surely nourish plants. Maybe tears, too, will sink into our hearts and nourish us in the end.

I hope I can smile at the tulips tomorrow.