The wind that looks like its missing winter
Shakes a ***** willow.
Nevertheless, I can see
The shiny sunshine warming
Dry lawns.
It reminds me that you said.
“Feel the wind that hits your ankle.”
No, I said, did I say so?
I who is forgetting everything,
Have forgotten all my important things.
While the next season is coming,
I was permitted that
I stay.
While I was depending on a short time
And looking at something that I couldn’t finish writing,
I found an old letter.
You who I’ve never met gave me
A long courteous written bouquet.
Surprise, appreciation and impression
Flow
Because I hadn’t realized the person who looked
Inside my work so importantly exists.
I feel sorry that I forgot
The existence of the person
Who gave me encouragement
That said to me “be a poet.”
Your words are
In my body.
You look at me and talk to me
Like you capture
An emotional aurora
That is my bone space
That nobody can see.
You and I were permitted
That we were rewarded this.
I haven’t had this wealthy happiness.
Thirty years have gone by.
The strong ties that haven’t cooled down are
A sneak date by two people
Who love poems meet
In a tacit secret place.
Finally,
We get our forgiveness of living people surrounding us
That is our encounter.
The place that spring winds are born.
I want to live there
Because nobody can live.
While I’m looking at winds every time alone,
You cherish me
From the place that I can’t see.
I receive a written bouquet
From you I’ve never met.
I can’t stand thinking of
The day that these things will disappear.
Please always stay at that place where the spring winds
Are born.