『青空文庫』にある作品を『Google Translate』で英訳してみました。

武蔵野:国木田 独歩(100-137)/391


Or it suddenly became dim all over again, and in a blink of an eye, the gaps between the objects disappeared, and even the grove of birch remained piled up, and like the snow that does not meet the eyes of the day, it becomes hazy white, and rain. She was greedy, suspicious, and fell apart as if I were speaking.


The leaves of the birch trees are still bluish even though they are faintly shiny, but only the young trees that stand here and there are all red and yellow colored, and the light of the daylight is just wet Gleaming and flickering to catch the slipping branches and slipping off.''


In other words, this is the passage at the beginning of a short story titled "Aibiki" translated by Turgenev written by Futabatei. There is a lot of brush power.


This is a view of Russia, and the forest is a birch tree. The forest of Musashino is different from the oak tree and the plant zone, but the deciduous forest has the same taste.


I often think that if the forest of Musashino was not a kind of Nara, but a pine or something, it would be insignificant if it became a color with a very mediocre change.


▽Because it is a kind of Nara, it leaves yellow.


Fall yellow leaves.


Shigure speaks for myself.


The calm shouts.


If you hit a small hill with a breeze, it will fly high in the sky with the leaves of tens of millions of trees and fly away as if it were a flock of birds.


If the leaves of the trees settle down, the forest over several dozens of villages becomes naked at one time, and the blue sky in the blue winter hangs high above them, and the entire Musashino area enters a calm state.


The air is always clear.


A distant sound can be heard clearly.


I wrote in the record of October 26th that I sit in the back of the forest, look after it, listen to it, gaze at it, and meditate.


In "Aibiki," he said he sat down, respected, and listened.


This listening and listening will suit Musashino's heart from the end of autumn to winter.


Sounds that occur more in the forest in autumn, sounds that distant from the forest in winter.


Bird's feather sound, whispering voice.


The rustling, rustling, screaming and screaming voices of the wind.


The sound of insects squeaking in the back of the forest, due to the crowd.


A sound that goes around the forest of empty carts, descends the slope, and crosses the road.


The sound of falling leaves with a hoof, this is a cavalry maneuver scout, or a foreigner who has gone on a long trip with a couple.


The voice of the villagers, who speaks loudly about something, gradually disappears.


The footsteps of a woman singing alone on the road.


A cannon that echoes in the distance.


The sound of the gun that happens in the forest next door.


When I took a dog, visited a nearby forest, sat down on a stump to read a book, I suddenly heard the sound of falling in the forest.


The dog lying on his feet raised his ear and surely stared at him.


That was it.


Maybe chestnuts have fallen, because there are so many chestnut trees in Musashino.


If there is no sound of rain then, there is nothing lonely.


The rainy season at Yamaya has become the subject of poetry in Japan, but it is wide, wide, crossing forests from Nosue to Nosue, crossing forests, crossing rice fields, crossing forests, and passing gently. The sound of drizzling rain is very spicy, has a quaint atmosphere, and the kindness and nostalgia is truly the characteristic of drizzling in Musashino.


I once encountered a drizzle in the deep forest of Hokkaido, which is deeper because it is a large forest with no trace of people. There is no.


From mid-autumn to early winter, try Nakano or try Shibuya, Setagaya, or the forest in the back of Koganei, and sit down for a while to relieve the fatigue of your walk.


These noises, which occur instantly, stop instantly, gradually approach, gradually move away, fall without leaves above the tree, make a faint noise, and when it stops, feel the quietness of nature, eternal breathing You will see it approaching.


When Musashino dried up at the end of a winter night in Hoshi Doo, I often wrote in my diary the sound of a wild forest running through Nobuno, which could blow away even the stars.


The sound of the wind invites people's thoughts into the distance.


When I heard the sound of this great wind near and far away, I remembered the life of Musashino from a long time ago.