Even coughing
still all alone
On the shore
when I turn my head
no longer any footprints
When I climb up the hill
all the villages seem
sad to me
"Go and salt the vegetables!"
Mother is this what
I was born for?
To cook beans
I had all day
Head dangling
I am walking disheartened
sorry for everything
Into the winter river
I throw the garbage
and come back
Wordless
all day long
the shadow of a butterfly
So lonely
to see I open
my five fingers
In the evening
on one leg
a sparrow, hopping
Whistling continually
this morning
in the glowing grove
Florist's
scissors clicking ~
I'm having a lie in
Not a word today ~
I've pointed to
the shadow of a butterfly
Fantastic breast
and a mosquito!
On the tip of a grass
facing the infinite sky
an ant
At the back of the fog
the sound of water
I'm going there
So alone
I move my shadow
just to see
Denigrate the others?
I wash my spirit
shelling peas
December night
a frozen bed ~
this is all I have
Murders everywhere ~
and yet water
flows in the night
A horse
bolting
on a carpet of white frost
Buddha grants me
a few more days
I do the washing
Translation: Gilles Fabre