During a moment in a spring night, I feel an incomparable joy.
It’s from the light of the moon, which illuminates the fragrant flowers.
Even this song, which colours the evening calm, will someday fade.
In an empty plaza, I give myself up to my imagination.
Dream on Dream.
The sweet night breeze soaks my heart.
Shooting Star.
I’ll chant my wish three times. That’s the charm.
Spring is the season of drowsiness. Birdsong is all around.
Did the blossoms fall in last night’s rain?
Travelling to a distant, distant world, to the brilliant metropolis,
the ship’s sail swings and vanishes into the sky.
There’s a somewhat mysterious presence. It is the murmuring of the mountain and river.
It is wavering transience in the passage of time.
How mysterious. Something is strange. I can hear a faint voice.
My feelings quivered in the face of my slight unease.
Rainbow beam.
I want to reach out and grab that jewel.
Fly away.
Unbelievable miracles will happen, too, at the edge of the sky.
This is the season where the air awakens. The birds don’t stop chirping.
The tenderness of the morning is a drop on the petals.
What is it searching for? Where is it journeying to?
The ship’s sail swings and vanishes into the sky.
Chasing after tomorrow, I flap my wings.
Translated by Releska