【１】たとえば、路傍のぬかるみの中へわざと踏みこんでゆき、ぬるぬるの泥の感触を楽しみ、泥水のはねをあげ、もっと深いところを探すことの喜びとは、いったい何だったのだろうと思うことがある。【２】今ではたとえ長靴をはいていたとしても、私はぬかるみを避けて、固い地面を探す。だが子どもは、ぬかるみを見れば当然のようにそのほうへ突進し、飽くことがない。【３】たまにそんな子どもの楽しみかたにひかれて、おそるおそるぬかるみに足を出すこともあるにはあるが、私たちおとなは長靴の中に泥水が浸入してくることの心持ちわるさや、帰宅したあとの長靴洗いの面倒くささのほうにすぐに心が向いてしまって、子どものように全身全霊をあげて楽しむことはまずないと言っていい。
　【４】子どもがぬかるみの中を、嬉々として跳ねまわっているのは、おとなにとってあまり快い眺めではない。私たちはどちらかと言うとそれを制止したがる。【５】きたならしい、着ているものが汚れる、無駄なことだ――おとなたちはいつも制止するのに十分な理由をもっていて、それを疑うこともしないのだが、そういう心の奥に、ほんの少しではあっても喜びの感情もまた、ないではない。【６】嬉しがってる子どものいきいきした動作や表情のかわいらしさに、おとなはしょうがないなと思いながらも寛大になる。似たようないたずらがこよなく楽しかった自分の子ども時代のことも、思い出すともなく思い出している。【７】そんなおとなの心の動きを子どもはいち早く見抜いていて、本気になっておとなが怒り出すまで、はしゃいでいる。
　だが、だからと言って、おとなが子どもにとってのぬかるみ遊びの無意味の意味をほんとうに理解しているかどうかは疑わしいのではあるまいか。【８】おとなはいわば子どもを、そして自分の子ども時代をもう外側から眺めるしかない存在だ。子どもをみつめることでおとなが感ずる喜びと、子どもそのものであることの喜びはちがう。【９】そのことに私は時折、越えがたい断絶感を味わう。もういちど子どもに戻りたいと思うのではない、こどもには存在していて、おとなにはすでに存在し得ぬ感情がたしかにあるという一種の絶望∵感、人間という生物が成長してゆくみちすじで、そのような感情を失ってゆくことを、いったい何が正当化するのだろうかという疑問、私の心の中に浮かぶのはそんな思いだ。
　【０】ぬかるみにうつつを抜かしているとき、子どもは着ているものが汚れることや、あとになって長靴を洗わねばならぬことを気にしてはいない。子どもは文字通り一所懸命に、その瞬間その場を生きている。他のことに心を向けるゆとりが全くないほどに、その喜びは深く全身的なのである。結果を考えろ、親の苦労を、或いは他人の迷惑を考えろと言ったところで、通じようがない。子どもにはそのとき、いわば未来もなければ、社会もない。だから子どもは子どもさ、人間よりはけものに近いんだとおとなは言う。だが喜びという感情は、本来そういうなりふりかまわぬ、自分勝手な、むしろ野性的と言っていいような心の状態だったのではあるまいか。
　そのことにおぼろげながら感づいているからこそ、おとなは子どものいたずらを大目に見る。ぬかるみがあるのに、それに見むきもせぬ子どもがいたりするとかえって心配になったりする、ぬかるみに踏みこめば叱るくせに、そうしない子どものことは、子どもらしくないと断罪しかねない。そんな矛盾した心の動きの中に、私たち人間の喜びというものの見かたがかくされていると私は思う。

（谷川俊太郎の文より）

At last I was in Japan. I stepped out of the plane into the Narita Airport building for the first time. I was walking toward immigration when I saw it. It was the first time in my life. Two Japanese were standing in front of each other, bowing, bowing, and bowing. The greeting seemed endless. Here, however, I found something very shocking: they were saying a lot but I could not understand anything! For the first time, I was in a country where I could not even guess a single word of the local language. To me, although those two people were saying something to each other, it just sounded like noise. However, I could catch one of the sounds very clearly. It was DOMO.
On the way out of the airport, I could hear again and again that same domo. I had to find out what it was. Walking beside me was a French businessman on his second trip to Japan. He looked like an expert on things Japanese. "Well," he said, "my experience has taught me that it means something like thank you." Then he went on explaining. "When you want to thank anyone for anything and be polite at the same time, just say 'domo' and it will be all right. And don't forget. You have to bow every time you say thank you." On hearing that, I said to myself, "Hey, this is a very useful expression. I must remember it."
When I arrived at the dormitory, a professor from the university was waiting for me. I wanted to make a good impression. So I bowed and said something like. "bla bla bla domo bla bla domo domo domo." I did my best to say the domo very clearly. The rest was in a very soft and impossible-to-understand voice. Just the sounds.
Notice that I repeated the last domo three times. I wanted to sound very polite. In English it sounds very strange if you repeat thank you so many times, but in Japanese it did not sound bad at all. Anyway, I didn't know what I was saying. The professor looked at me and smiled. "Oh! You speak Japanese very well." I was very happy. Only a few hours in the country, and I was already mastering the rules of Japanese politeness. The French businessman was right. A bow and a domo, and everybody is happy.
One of the students from the dormitory broke my tennis racket. He could not speak English very well, so he said something like, "Domo, racket no good." He seemed to be very sorry. But he was saying domo - thank you. I got a little angry! You can imagine. I lend him my racket, he breaks it and comes back saying. "Thank you. "Unbelievable! Anyway, the following day he bought me a new one.
The other day I was outside the dormitory waiting for a friend to pick me up. He was quite late, in fact more than 30 minutes late. Aren't the Japanese usually on time? Perhaps my friend was different. At last he turned up. "Domo, domo, Did you wait long?" He came at me waving his right hand. "These Japanese are really funny people," I told myself. "He is late and comes saying, 'Thank you, thank you.'" I was getting very confused. In this country do you have to say thank you for everything you do?
I had already been in the county for four months and I still could not speak Japanese. But I wanted to sound as polite as I could. So I began to speak very strange-sounding English. Here are some examples:
"Thank you, I was late."
"Thank you, this rain won't stop."
"Thank you, excuse me."
"Thank you I thought I saw Mr. Tanaka, but it was another person."
"Thank you, it has been a long time since we last met."
"Thank you, thank you."