Chiyoko Hatakeyama / William Empson: The Small Bird to the Big

Fly up and away, large hawk,
To the eternal day of the abyss,
Belittling the night about the mountains.
Your eyes that are our terror
Are well employed about the secrets of the moon
Or the larger betrayals of the noon-day.
Do not stay just above
So that I must hide shuddering under inadequate twigs.
Sail through the dry smoke of volcanoes
Or the damp clouds if they will better encourage your feathers.
Then shall I weep with joy seeing your splendour,
Forget my cowardice, forget my weakness,
Feel the whole sunlight fall upon my tears.
I shall believe you a key to Paradise.
I shall believe you the chief light upon this dark grey world.


Written c. 1935, Empson's translation published 1936. The translation from the Japanese is very free and was based on an English version supplied by Hatakeyama herself, which has been lost—so it's unclear who's responsible for the differences between the original and Empson's version. Hatakeyama aspired to writing poetry in English but was dissuaded by Empson. This poem has been interpreted as her farewell to him and to her ambition: she's the small bird, Empson the large hawk.