Notes #9 - Cinematic Nightmares: The unexpected poetry in The Beast to Die

(Yaju Shisubeshi, 1980)

The sun rises from the steep cliffs,
Sorrow creeps past below the overpass.
The place afar.
Railway barriers one after the other,
The image of a lonely figure.
Ah, You're a wanderer.

You came from the past, surpassed the future.
Looking for the sense of homesickness that's been long gone.
In such a rush,
Walking by in sorrow,
As in a poem of time.
Like killing a snake with a stone.
Breaking off a reincarnation,
Without the will to conquer loneliness.
Ah, more lonely than a demon.

Can you stand the long, cold winter?
You didn't believe in anything.
What you believe in is rage.
Not certain that whether you've ever denied lust,
To impeach your so-called lust.
The tiresome sorrow that you get when you don't.
Hugging and kissing someone gently, not going home.
You didn't love anything.
You're a lonely man.
Ah, the sorrow in the sunset reached the slope,
Drifting there, with no purpose.

When can you go home?
But there's no home for you.
When can you go home?
But there's no home for you.