Zelda Kasahara

Remember when they called you
an archetype engine
hard-working
achieving
praising you in a choir
„she was made in Germany“
they changed the lyrics.
Now you‘re just a heretic
expelled from the King‘s garden

Archetype Engine,
she was made in Germany.
But you‘ve long forgotten where you came from
I was scanning the days,
arranging the ticking time
in small jam jars
on your marble kitchen counter.

Every water lily in the pond
every blooming lotus in winter
every fire raining from the purple sky on
my heretic disbelief
I wish I could go back to your garden,
my King.

--

--

I’m reading the news
and get stuck with the photos
of someone getting engaged.
Their happiness I cannot understand
the girl has been replaced
I remember
she was more blonde before.

I’m reading the news and don’t understand
why life has been on repeat for a year
and my friends are still waiting for me
and I am still waiting for myself
It’s an endless queue

I’m reading the news,
seeing a different reality than you
wanting to share it with you,
knowing we will just fight about
my believe and your believe
and break each others hearts
for the sake of being right.

I’m reading the news,
seeing people in beautiful dresses,
with glittery makeup and fairy-like hair.
I’m adjusting my pajamas
and gaze out of the window
Waiting for another day to pass by.

--

--

I sometimes wake up next to you
wondering why I accepted a western life
no separated futons,
no separated rooms.
Intimacy in front of other people
You’re cooking the meals
instead of me

(You’re not getting angry at me buying the wrong instant noodles)

I still claim the laundry
I still clean the floors.
You sometimes forget
that all I learned
I found it under cherry blossom trees.
And most of the time I feel so alien
being European in Europe.

--

--

I’ve been reading about foxes,
living in peach tree forests,
more than ten miles away from heaven.
I’ve seen mountains reaching up all into the sky
where there is lightning and thunder,
piercing through stone.

I’ve seen gods writing down our fate
with black ink and delicate brushes
on bamboo wood.
I tasted wine, sweeter than honey
under starry skies.

I was diving deep into a cold sea
to find pearls shining as white as the moon.
I’ve found angels sitting at the foot of a mountain
collecting berries and knitting scarfs
humming a song I used to once know

I’ve been seeing all
between nature and realms,
their shadow engraved in my skin.
I cannot wait for the day
when I finally find you
in the corner of my sleeves.

--

--

Clouds dividing the sky in sharp lines
the pink ones taste like memories
I’ve been walking between spheres
My feet not touching the asphalt

Short grey trees with spiky tops
standing close together
luring me into a darkness
I haven’t seen this much solidarity
But nature treats us equally.

A moment ago I spotted a cicada
Comparing it to late summer Tokyo
A realisation
it’s just some black piece of plastic
on a slanted ground
It must be winter somewhere else.

--

--

Don’t you think I have forgotten you
while new words are swirling around me
and a culture so alien to me
as I was never born in a cold winter
on the seaside.

If you think I’ve forgotten you
look at the letters I send you
I’m connected to you with the
blue ink through my pen,
the longing on the paper,
I will vanish before them.

Don’t be scared I’ve forgotten you
The season is here,
where I put my feelings on ice.
I’ll carve your name in a stone
and I wait for the snow to cover it up.
I’ll meet you again in spring,
when the Galanthus is blooming.

--

--

Zelda Kasahara

Zelda Kasahara

Writer & editor based in Iceland / 日本語・English・Deutsch / Language teacher, translator, editor.