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Yorushika – 3/14

May 1, 2019

When I leaned out the window to look out at the sky, it was so clear that I suddenly remembered you and thought that I would write you a letter. Well, that was what it was at the start, but thinking about it now, this is something like an escape. I think you know what I’m escaping from. From society, from connections, from friends, from my job, from life…. Basically, from everything.

Oh, right, before I get into that, I should tell you: This may surprise you, but I’ve recently learned to do housework. That’s right, me, who couldn’t even use a washing machine before. But I guess being a human means changing, however slowly.

It’s just like you said, Elma: A single day is far too short, but just living is too long. When I think that the summer is ending like this, I start to feel like I won’t be able to create anything serious even if I live to be 100. To tell you the truth, I quit the part-time job I used to have. It was at the beginning of last August.

Elma, there must be a lot of people who never do anything with their lives. Fifty people working hard can’t match up to ten people with talent, and no matter how much you regret it, you can’t reverse a failure into a success–that will never change. Words are no match for bullets. They can’t miraculously cure illness.

Still, I believed that music alone was different. Music wasn’t just art. Making things that are for people–what could be more valuable? Which is to say, those disgusting money-worshippers are wrong. It’s like Oscar Wilde said. Art isn’t a reflection in a cracked mirror. “Life imitates art far more than Art imitates life.”[1]

But lately I’ve been thinking. In the end, if you don’t have a life, if you don’t have a body that can make things, you won’t be able to create anything. No matter how I struggle against it, everything I create draws from my heart, my way of living, my experiences–in this way, my art is tied to my life. As if it really were a mirror.

This is really just a journal, Elma. I’m sure there should still be art inside me. It’s almost exactly the thing that Oscar denied. That contradiction has always caused me pain. Music has become something I can no longer enjoy.

What do you think, Elma?


[1] From “The Decay of Lying.”

From → Yorushika

  1. Is there anyway you could translate the other songs on this album?

    • I definitely appreciate knowing that you like the translations and would like to see more of them! That’s very flattering. I’ll finish it eventually; while I would love for translating narrative concept albums to be my highest priority in life, I have a lot of other things getting in the way, including my job, more serious freelance work, unrelated translation commissions, and dealing with assorted important real-life stuff. I love these whole-album projects, but they’re never fast, and the last few months have been particularly busy for me. I’m sorry to keep you (and others) waiting, but I know there are other people who translated Yorushika’s previous albums, so while it doesn’t look like anyone’s really started on this one yet, it’s possible that someone with more free time and energy will beat me to finishing it.

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