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Faderhead — Melt Into Your Eyes


Sometimes I’m just lost for words
And I don’t know what to say
This feels so good it almost hurts
Hope we’ll never fade away
When I look at you today
There’s nothing else that I gotta say
Cause I melt into your eyes again
If I need to lose control
I know that you will hold my soul
Deep inside I feel this glow
"You" and "me" will make "us" whole

Formalhaut--Inagaki Taruho (Intro + Part 1)

I’ve elected to take on a translation project as part of my summer work for my Japanese degree, and I had the thought that in case anyone was interested in reading it, I could share my work as I go along~ ^^ Tbh, I don’t know if anyone will be interested, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. Also that it would be nice to upload some original content to Tumblr for a change instead of just reblogging everything…^^;;;

So yeah, I’m going to give this a shot. :D I figured I’d post a page at a time, so as there are 20 pages, there’ll be 20 installments in total. I don’t claim to possess fluency, as I’m sure my translations will reveal. I’ve only been studying Japanese formally for about three years, and while I’d like to think I’ve come a long way in that time, I know I still have a long way to go. ^^; My hope is that someone more proficient in the language than I am will come along and offer their input, but for now I’m content to just post and share it~

Lol, I don’t really know anything about this story other than the title (and even that was a pain in the butt to translate. Elaboration to follow.)—I picked it at random from a collection of short stories written by Inagaki Taruho (1900-1977), a Japanese writer who grew up in the “trendy, international” city of Kobe, and whose works centered primarily around the themes of flight, astronomical objects, machinery/inventions, and shōnen-ai. He also likes to play around with languages, which is evident in the title of the piece I’ve chosen to translate. “Formalhaut” is the English romanization of an Arabic word that carries the literal meaning of ‘whale’s mouth’ and is the name of a star in the constellation Pisces. It was written in the text in Chinese, and I have yet to determine why. xD

While there have been no mentions of whales or stars thus far, the story does get off to a very interesting start~ I’m only one page in so far, but based on what I’ve seen so far of the subject matter, I’m very intrigued to see where the story progresses next. :D

So without further adieu, Inagaki Taruho’s ‘Formalhaut,’ part 1:



One day a black sedan arrived in Ubakeri in northern Kyoto, at a time when the town was bursting with the colors of flowers in full-bloom. A stylish, well-dressed young man of twenty-two or twenty-three emerged, and he walked intently, at a pace to avoid being seen by even the busybody women of the Ōhara household. Nearby there was a dilapidated temple that had long been without a priest. Late in the afternoon, drawn by curiosity, the young man passed through the temple gate. Sensing a sign of life among the fallen ginkgo leaves, a cross-eyed old monk emerged and called out to him, but the man had already disappeared from sight. (The monk searched the man’s heart for what could have brought him there, whether family anguish, grief for an old master, or something else, but his efforts were in vain.)*

To change the subject, I was riding a split-level express train south from Tokyo Station, and for some reason it sped past all the stops along the way. The emergency alarm went off, and there was a great commotion as we changed to another train waiting on a sidetrack. The Tōkaidō lines take off down the track with a burst of fireworks, and the train I continued my journey on picked up speed as it passed through Ōsaka before finally rolling to a stop at the platform at Kōbe Station, even though there was no one in the engine car. Not only that, but the train was more or less empty by this point. Except for the floor that housed the sleeping cars, where the lights were still lit, and the naked corpse of a young man laid in a pool of blood. Wherever he’d planned on riding the train to wouldn’t be his destination now… Surrounding the poor soul were twelve monks who seemed to be in the same situation, emitting yellow foam from their lips post-mortem. Ah, but I’m being pulled into a conversation with Ueda Akinori, author of, “The Blue Kerchief,” and must bring my story to an end here.

*Text in brackets denotes passages where I’m very unsure of the accuracy of my translation. ^^;