poem by Tada Chimako

Mirrors
by Tada Chimako translated by Jeffrey Angles
The mirror is always slightly taller than I It laughs a moment after I laugh Turning red as a boiled crab I cut myself from the mirror with shears * When my lips draw close, the mirror clouds over And I vanish behind my own sighs Like an aristocrat hiding behind his crest Or a gangster behind his tattoos * Oh traveler, go to Lacedaemon and say that in the mirror, Graveyard of smiles, there is a single gravestone Painted white, thick with makeup Where the wind blows alone