A Cat Sleeping in a Water Mill
Over the creek I walk
The sound of the grass whistle The pair dance of the honey peaks
A mischievous fox steals the numbers
Leave that stuff behind.
jellybeans, melted, distorting the reflection in my eyes.
Even the street number of the city you live in is distorted into a strange pattern.
Here in the countryside that once passed by and remains as a silhouette
Chasing afterimages, strange steps, Shall we dance?
I borrow the perspective of a butterfly
perched on the back of an ashigure
he runs, the barley shakes and waves
A hungry rabbit eats the numbers
Crying with red eyes
I took a longer trip than usual and lost my way home
I counted the lonely nights since that day You were mine
But flowers break the snow and the bear will soon wake up
Everyone knows that the fullness is the signal, not the count
Soon the ants will be ready for winter And soon the birds will be on their way
Life goes on
