"As you are famous enough now
They want you to become rich somehow, I hear"
"Ha!, that's fan"
*
"It's really unfair that only women are to bear children, isn't it?
What do you think?"
"Oh, my girl! ... y...yeah, it is"
*
"You know, poverty is his hobby, and he always talks tall, I hear"
"Oh, yeah!
Such type of person is very rare but sometimes surely exists"
*
Open sea. A wrecked ship.
Desert. A white flower of cactus.
*
It is the best way for you to carry on engraving stone stamps by devising
for yourself
For writing poems, it is the same
But, for everything, the situation would be the same, too
*
I think of the deviation between writer and reader
Without a solution
*
Towards the future, one by one, I cut away the past
To live the true literature by throwing away the deceased literature
Poem is my way
*
My living room is of tatami floor
Sitting neatly, I get comfortable
*
I face to the square surface of seal stone of an inch
With a cutter in my right hand
My heart settles down
At the lower belly
*
From faraway Seibuen reaches the sound of skyrockets
Heavy explosions of big rockets and staggering sounds of small ones
Broken into pieces and fallen
This summer is now over
*
I am absorbed in
The chirp of fruit crickets
Housai once loved too
*
"Unbounded Huge Distance" in a tablet hanged on the wall is aslant
I set it back to horizon neatly
My mind gets back resolute again
*
I get up at 6:30 in the morning of September 4th, Monday
I take a full breath deeply, after cleaning teeth, having a shave and washing
face
I sit neatly and drink a cup of tea
I feel I am refreshed and I have no anxiety