『青空文庫』にある作品を『Google Translate』で英訳してみました。

赤い部屋:江戸川 乱歩(1-29)/400


Red room


Edogawa Ranpo


In a dark armchair in a deep red carpet, in a "red room" where seven poor men gathered for an unusual excitement (I was one of them) and were appointed for the affair I was in love, and I was waiting for the speaker tonight to tell a strange story.


In the middle of the seven, three thick candles, swaying with Yura Yura, burned on a large sculpted candlestick on a large round table, also covered with a vermilion Tengu carpet It was


On the four corners of the room, there were no windows or entrance doors, and from the ceiling to the floor, a crimson heavy sling silk was hanging to make a rich cocoon.


The light of the romantic candle, like the blood that just flowed out of the vein, was throwing the seven unusually large shadow guards of the seven on the surface of the dosian black-colored hanging silk.


And the shadowmaker crawled on the curvilinear silk curve, stretching and shrinking, as if it were some huge insects, as the candle squirmed.


As always, the room made me feel as if I was sitting in the heart of a large creature, just no more.


It seemed to me that the heart could be felt even with the sound of kinkinkin and a pulse depression with a degree of thickness commensurate.


No one told anything.


I was staring at the candle and staring at the shadowy faces of the people who sat on the other side, looking nowhere.


Those faces, wonderingly, seemed to move even silently like the face of Noh.


Before long, while being seated, newcomer T, who was appointed as the speaker tonight, began to talk as follows while staring at the candle's fire.


I was looking at how his jaws, which look like ribs due to the shadows, fit with Gakugaku every time they say something, as if they were seen by a bizarre fictional creature doll.


I'm sure I'm sane, and I'm treated like that, but I don't know if it's true or not.


It may be a madman.


Even if it is not so, it may be something like a mentally ill.


A person like me is strangely boring in this world.


Being alive is already boring, boring, and missing specifications.


In the beginning, though, there were times when I was in a lot of people in various ways, but I can not comfort my boredom with anything, but rather, it is already an interesting thing in the world. It was only disappointing that it was a shame or something boring.


So, I have become jealous to do something.


For example, when you hear a story that this play is interesting, and you will surely fall in love with you, oh, if there is such a thing, instead of getting up and running as soon as possible, first of all, Imagine various things in the head in the fun.


And, as a result of frustrating my imagination, I always say, "There is nothing wrong with it."


That's how I temporarily spent the day just eating food, getting up and sleeping, without doing anything literally.


And in my head | I think that it is boring, boring, boring, it's harder than dying, and it's harder than dying, yet it's a life that is easy on the eyes, even if it's boring. Was sent.


It would have been nice if this was such a situation that I was chased by the bread of that day.


Even if it is forced labor, it is happy if you have something to do with the bribe.


Or maybe it would have been better if I was too rich in flying.


I'm sure I could have been able to get rid of the extravagant powers, the extravagant luxury that the historic tyrants did, bloody play, and much more, but of course there is no wish If so, I would have had no choice but to live on that day, just as I wished to be dead, like the one in that chopstick, Taro.