You say, “Let’s meet again someday.”
Bathed in the morning glow, you slowly melt away in a world of bright white.
The eye of the water and the eye of the tide meet and mix together.
The picture of the night; shallows in the morning; I’m awakening.
Swimming in the sky, you say:
“How is it down there on the ground?”
I pretend not to hear you, and the meadow begins to bud.
Someone somewhere may have waited a hundred years,
but for me, it looks like there’s no leisure even for dreaming,
so until the dawn itself becomes dust
I impart my love to the sky.
My cry pierced the sky: “Tell me my name.”
A grave capriciousness. The stifling heat of summer.
Things just can’t go on like this.
The wind howls terribly.
Amid the sound of tears falling, I’m drawing up the blue in my arms.
A dream that tells of the end of daybreak.
It’s opening up.
Until daylight and twilight came to overlap, I went on lamenting,
losing myself in the blue.
You laugh, but your sorrowful memento is now beyond the blue.
Even so, I cried out, piercing the sky too high to see: “Tell me my name.”
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