Autumn sky so gray

Where shines the pupil of a black horse Withered lily that has no more water The human heart is empty

There was no god, she had no guide To go away thus near her window The white sky was blind The white wind so cold

She was washing her hair at the window How graceful her arm was In the morning sun that flooded her In the sound of the falling drops

In the din of the streets The confusion of children's cries Now what is this soul? More frail will the sky be ?-Chuuya Nakahara