This my attempt at a waka poem in <a href='http://www.nihongoresources.com/language/dialects/kansaiben.html' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Osakaben</a>. The waka I was going for has a syllable count of five-seven-five-seven-seven. The reference is from the Tale of Genji, about a "lowborn" woman nicknamed "evening faces" or "evening glory" who becomes one of the main character's mistresses. Also, the singular "n" does could has its own syllable.
This is not supposed to be a good poem. Also, ever since the move, the Japanese characters became messed up. I might fix it eventually.
yoi no hana, ima arahen na, demo sendo, tee no eeshi de, hannari ya wa : The evening flower, now it is gone, but a long time ago, by the hand of a highborn person, it was blooming.
Pham Thi Anh Sang
Wait, three minutes? Anh Sang stared at Mister Cunningham in confusion, suddenly feeling panicked. Three minutes. That was a long time, right? And were they supposed to have prepared for everything before hand? Even though she had a flyer for the poetry slam, she hadn't really bothered to read it through or do much research on what a poetry slam even was anyways. Oh, what if she said something really stupid sounding in English and everybody laughed at her? Even though she liked it when people laughed, she really didn't like it when it was directed at her.
Oh, oh, I'll speak in Japanese and then nobody will laugh at me! Because, well. She didn't speak as funny in Japanese as she did in English. But Anh Sang was torn about that idea because if she used Japanese, then she'd probably end up using the Osaka dialect. It was just better, even if everybody else thought it sounded weird. Since she didn't have a good idea of what she wanted to do anyways, though, maybe using a weird dialect would help to hide her issues?
For a few moments, there was this really awkward silence on the stage, like all of the contestants were silently daring each other to go first. Initially, Anh Sang was content to just go along with it but then she realized that if she went last like she wanted, people would actually remember what she had said. If she went first, then nobody would, right? And anyways, there was something about the youngest person stepping up for what everybody else wasn't willing to do that was pretty appealing to her. Staring up at the microphone stand, the girl made her decision.
And almost immediately, she regretted it. Standing right up behind the microphone made her feel super silly. It towered right over her hand, but Anh Sang wasn't going to touch it because Mommy and Daddy told her not to mess with things she didn't understand. So instead, she just craned her head upwards and hoped she was speaking loud enough for the microphone to catch it. But at least it meant that she didn't need to look at the audience or the judges.
"Um, um. Okay," she began, trying to think of something fast. The pauses between each syllable that came out of her mouth were painfully obvious. "Yoi no hana, ima arahen na. Um. Demo sendo, tee no eeshi de. Uh, hannari ya wa." She stopped again, shaking her head a little uncertainly and imagining everybody's reactions. None of them very good. "Um, um, that's it."
And with that, Anh Sang simply walked off the stage. She really wanted to run but then people would just laugh at her anyways, right?
Well. Whatever! Poetry is stupid anyways!
This is not supposed to be a good poem. Also, ever since the move, the Japanese characters became messed up. I might fix it eventually.
yoi no hana, ima arahen na, demo sendo, tee no eeshi de, hannari ya wa : The evening flower, now it is gone, but a long time ago, by the hand of a highborn person, it was blooming.
Pham Thi Anh Sang
Wait, three minutes? Anh Sang stared at Mister Cunningham in confusion, suddenly feeling panicked. Three minutes. That was a long time, right? And were they supposed to have prepared for everything before hand? Even though she had a flyer for the poetry slam, she hadn't really bothered to read it through or do much research on what a poetry slam even was anyways. Oh, what if she said something really stupid sounding in English and everybody laughed at her? Even though she liked it when people laughed, she really didn't like it when it was directed at her.
Oh, oh, I'll speak in Japanese and then nobody will laugh at me! Because, well. She didn't speak as funny in Japanese as she did in English. But Anh Sang was torn about that idea because if she used Japanese, then she'd probably end up using the Osaka dialect. It was just better, even if everybody else thought it sounded weird. Since she didn't have a good idea of what she wanted to do anyways, though, maybe using a weird dialect would help to hide her issues?
For a few moments, there was this really awkward silence on the stage, like all of the contestants were silently daring each other to go first. Initially, Anh Sang was content to just go along with it but then she realized that if she went last like she wanted, people would actually remember what she had said. If she went first, then nobody would, right? And anyways, there was something about the youngest person stepping up for what everybody else wasn't willing to do that was pretty appealing to her. Staring up at the microphone stand, the girl made her decision.
And almost immediately, she regretted it. Standing right up behind the microphone made her feel super silly. It towered right over her hand, but Anh Sang wasn't going to touch it because Mommy and Daddy told her not to mess with things she didn't understand. So instead, she just craned her head upwards and hoped she was speaking loud enough for the microphone to catch it. But at least it meant that she didn't need to look at the audience or the judges.
"Um, um. Okay," she began, trying to think of something fast. The pauses between each syllable that came out of her mouth were painfully obvious. "Yoi no hana, ima arahen na. Um. Demo sendo, tee no eeshi de. Uh, hannari ya wa." She stopped again, shaking her head a little uncertainly and imagining everybody's reactions. None of them very good. "Um, um, that's it."
And with that, Anh Sang simply walked off the stage. She really wanted to run but then people would just laugh at her anyways, right?
Well. Whatever! Poetry is stupid anyways!