Who is the carrier of the mist?
Who is the harbinger of justice?

I wonder how many sweet reeds
There are that blow in the wind?

The fog, dividing the big square.
The mist, forming a circle.

An encircling protection.
The night has its shades.

We have seen the good mist
Positively rolling along the open field
Towards us
We who make the camaraderie.
“Oh, now that’s a good mist”.

The mist, the fog. Wet dew
Of sustenance
With hope, I bow to you.