When night falls

Japan that sank under the sea

(Possibly may have sunk, for the next morning

I found myself between the blind clouds

And the old divine water)

Comes up afloat in the heavens

Like a lantern hanging

Yes, that is an antique paper-lantern

A candle-light muffled with an amber-colored Japanese

Paper

There, the surrounding darkness is deep

Especially deep because of the ambivalent candle light

But, where are the crowds of people

so familiar to me?

What shells up the darkness

Is the thick glossy foliage.

What fortune is told by this sight?

I don’t see Tokyo anywhere; don’t see anything

Modern

Only the lantern remains

Only the antique silence

Keeps in form the melancholy of the long history.

From far down below some noise is heard,

A noise like that of waves … or is that ..?

It is too early to reveal itself.

She is walking down the alley, pillow in hands.

Her hands are striking, those milky shiny little hands.

The moon is dark tonight, she says.

Birnam Wood is walking in the clouds.

Her hands are squeezing, as if she is choking a new-born baby.

Deadly sights trifle my knowings.

Birnam Wood is walking in the clouds.

Virtuous and valiant horses are preying on each other.

Unnatural sights trifle my knowings.

Who could have done this, I ask.

Who make such virtuous and valiant horses prey on each other?

Not men, she says elegantly, their name is frailty.

Who could have done this, I ask.

Who smeared the golden lion and took his hypocritical crown?

Not men, their name is frailty.

She is pointing at an indifferently dangling dagger.

Who slayed the lion and took his amber paper crown?

There she is, pouring invisible godlike water down her nightgown.

Look! Good man! Take the dangling dagger in the alley!

When the night eats colors and flower bouquets lose their fake ornaments.

She is drowning in the invisible godlike Neptune’s Ocean.

A fair and foul day, isn’t it, doctor?

When the night eats colors and flower bouquets lose their fake ornaments.

Go to bed, to bed, but keep your eyes open cautiously.

A fair and foul day, isn’t it?

She is walking down the alley, pillow in hands.

There is no way that I cure this disease.

When the moon is dark tonight.

Frailty is their name, not yours

You put out a treacherous, transgressive candle light

You pick a heroic fight, burying deep in Neptune’s Ocean is willows’ pride

Devils keep you company, admit your

Bloody, shiny little hands, holding an

Invisible, indifferent, dangling dagger

You smear the lion with a hypocritical amber paper crown,

You slay that baby like you butchered a nightingale

You shell up the kingdom with

Kindness in limitless darkness, nowhere to be found

When days fall into the ground like sparkling bubbles

Vanishing into the foul, and fair, and filthy air;

When nights eat color and flower bouquets lose their fake ornaments;

Put on your nightgown, and sleep,

with your wide open, inhuman eyes.

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