ABSTRACT
In 1989, the Bulletin of Concerned Asian Scholars published my translations of four wartime poems by Kurihara Sadako (born 1913). The poems in this issue trace the evolution of Kurihara’s thinking down to the present. Her conviction that the fifteen-year war was morally wrong has ensured that despite being a victim of Hiroshima, she has not locked herself into the role of atomic victim. She wrote “When We Say ‘Hiroshima’” in 1974. When We Say “Hiroshima” When we say “Hiroshima,” do people answer, gently, “Ah, Hiroshima”? Say “Hiroshima,” and hear “Pearl Harbor.” Say “Hiroshima,” and hear “Rape of Nanking.” Say “Hiroshima,” and hear of women and children in Manila thrown into trenches, doused with gasoline, and burned alive. Say “Hiroshima,” and hear echoes of blood and fire. Say “Hiroshima,” and we don’t hear, gently, “Ah, Hiroshima.” In chorus, Asia’s dead and her voiceless masses spit out the anger of all those we made victims. That we may say “Hiroshima,” and hear in reply, gently, “Ah, Hiroshima,” we must lay down in fact the arms we were supposed to lay down. We must get rid of all foreign bases. Until that day Hiroshima will be a city of cruelty and bitter bad faith. And we will be pariahs afire with remnant radioactivity. That we may say “Hiroshima” and hear in reply, gently, “Ah, Hiroshima,” we need first to cleanse our own filthy hands.
