Tanka Series: Blue and Red.
As those who know me are aware, I often compose tanka.
My work lacks the flamboyant splendor of those who focus on wordplay; my voice is more about the temperature of daily life or tanka that feel like damp slugs, so that is what I mostly write. However, while composing yesterday, I had a sudden thought.
It goes without saying that a tanka is a song.
If so, couldn't I just turn them into music as they are?
I looked into it, and while there seem to be precedents, it doesn't appear to be very common.
Therefore, it is a genre that still seems to have room for development, and since I thought it might be an interesting endeavor for me to expand the possibilities of the classical literary form of tanka, I decided to give it a try.
By the way, even though I call them tanka, modern tanka do not necessarily have to be composed of 31 syllables, so please forgive the broken meter. Also, I have used plenty of enjambment.
Blue and Red
Paint-colored blue falls, a love shower of droplets dripping onto the wet windowsill
The cry of an ibis, do you want to know the color hidden behind the feather robe? I won't tell you
A sunset I can't remember when it was, and the weather forecast between the stretched clouds
Picking up the sound of the early summer rain and pressing my ear to it, only the coldness of the door's glass
Long time no see, behind that voice is a quartet where I don't exist
Unzipping the back of your shirt, I reach in and pull it out
Answer me. Answer my voice. I don't need you to pretend to be someone else anymore
Your voice is fine, I don't want to see your face. It's all a lie. Even though I've actually loved you all along
I splashed liquid solvent, and the glass melted away into a sludge
Sitting on the melted windowsill, I dangled my legs and my sandal fell off
The weather forecast is sunny again today, the call of a fortune teller full of lies
Why do you want to know the words I'd kept hidden, thinking I'd end it here?
Undo the buttons of your shirt and take me inside there
The fallen sandal made a sound, it went 'splat' and then vanished
Answer me. Answer my voice. I'm sick of you pretending to be someone else
I love your voice. Show me that face. It's all a lie. I've actually hated you all along
Bring me red paint and splash it all over my head right now, otherwise I can't go back
Answer me. Answer my voice. Just for now, don't tell any lies
Your voice is fine. I don't want to see your face. Yet I want to be inside you
Until the night that never ends this way comes to an end (make it end)
As for my impressions, I felt quite a bit of potential, or rather, a positive response.
Since the essence of tanka is capturing a scene, collisions between each poem are unavoidable when turning them into a song. As a result, the core of the chorus and repetitions tended to be weak, and some adjustments were necessary.
Nevertheless, I found that I could largely adapt tanka into songs as they are, which was quite a significant harvest.
If there are any musicians out there who also compose tanka, why not give it a try?
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