Like a lingering doubt,
the moon stood on the maple tree―
for a relationship.
For my sake don't take a
downside, my liberalism
will suffer.
Killed in your own house
by lightning, have you
ever heard of self-immolation?
Let's make it simple.
Take it from the giver,
what he never had― and
don't ask the price.
Your eyes again befell
a giant. How would you live
without the fireflies?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem