【The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle】『ねじまき鳥クロニクル』

As happened each morning, I heard the wind-up bird winding its spring in a treetop somewhere. I closed the paper sat up with my back against a post, and looked at the garden. Soon the bird gave its rasping cry once more, a long creaking sort of sound that came from the top of the neigbor's pine tree. I strained to see through the branches, but there was no sign of the bird, only its cry. As always. And so the world had its spring wound for the day.
いつもの朝と同じように、僕はねじまき鳥がどこかの木のてっぺんでねじを巻く音を聞いた。新聞をとじて柱に寄りかかるように座り直し、庭を見た。その鳥はすぐにまたギイギイという音をもう一度たてた、隣の松の木のてっぺんから聞こえてきた軋むような音だった。僕は枝を通して見ようと懸命に頑張ってみたが、その鳥の気配はなく、その鳴き声だけだった。いつもと同じだ。そして世界はその日のためのねじを巻かれていた。