English, Chinese, and Malay. A country where even the alphabet is not shared with everyone.
英語、中国語、そしてマレー語。文字すら全員とは共有しない国。
Is there anything that is unique to this land? Is something that makes me think so unique to this land?
この土地にしか無いものなんて、あるのだろうか。そう思わせてしまう何かが、この土地にしか無いものなのか。
Surrounded by the aroma of incense, I realized that I was in front of a Chinese temple.
お香の香りに包囲されて、中国寺院の前に来たことに気付く。
The aroma changed and a Hindu temple was in front of me.
香りが変わって、目の前にヒンズー寺院。
Buddha, Ganesha, and the Cross, all in the same walk.
仏像もガネーシャも十字架も、同じ散歩の中に。
Races, cultures, and religions coexist without a hitch.
淡々と、共存。人種も文化も宗教も。
The letters run, among many people who don't even have a clue of their meaning.
文字が走る。その意味の手がかりすら無い人も沢山いる中を。
A street corner that seems far from grudges and obsessions.
怨念や執着からは程遠そうな街角。
Sometimes the more similar we are, the more distant we feel as we are confronted with a final gap that can never be filled.
似ているほど遠く感じることがある。埋めようのない最後の隙間を見せつけられたようで。
A land that is not eternal for anyone. If I were born in such a place, where would I have wanted to go? Where would I have wanted to return?
誰にとっても永遠の地じゃない。そんな場所に生まれたなら、どこに行こうとしただろう。どこに帰ろうとしただろう。
What will bloom, fertilizing this jumble.
何が咲くのか。このごちゃまぜを肥料に。
I wanted to ride it just by the sound of its name. Take the Malayan Railway to the north.
その名前の響きだけで乗りたかった。マレー鉄道で、北へ。
The wild gentleness of a tropical evening.
熱帯の夕方の雑なやさしさ。
[Singapore] > [Malaysia]
