The night rain murmurs
at the window
The japanese six-mat room
is not my land
Knowing the sad fate of the poet
I feel a poem composing itself
Receiving the tuition envelope
sent from my parents
Soaked through
with sweat and love
I go to an old professors class
With a worn notebook
under my arms
Having forsaken
all my boyhood friends
One after another
For what
Am I setting down all alone like this
Seeing that life is
is so hard to live
It is shameful that a poem is
Written as easily as this
The Japanese six-mat room
is not my land
The night rain murmurs
at the window
Lighting up a lamp to drive out
a bit of the darkness
The last of me awaits a new morn
coming like a new age
Extending a small hand to myself
I for the first time
greet myself with tears and solace
I for the first time
greet myself with tears and solace
The night rain murmurs
at the window
The japanese six-mat room
is not my land
Knowing the sad fate of the poet
I feel a poem composing itself
Receiving the tuition envelope
sent from my parents
Soaked through
with sweat and love
I go to an old professors class
With a worn notebook
under my arms
Having forsaken
all my boyhood friends
One after another
For what
Am I setting down all alone like this
Seeing that life is
is so hard to live
It is shameful that a poem is
Written as easily as this
The Japanese six-mat room
is not my land
The night rain murmurs
at the window
Lighting up a lamp to drive out
a bit of the darkness
The last of me awaits a new morn
coming like a new age
Extending a small hand to myself
I for the first time
greet myself with tears and solace
I for the first time
greet myself with tears and solace