Lost all hope in the dirt...
Don't think flowers bloom again.
Held on to fertilizer...
Until realizing its earthy.
Take a shovel, bury me
Next to your undergarments.
Send the coffin somewhere foreign;
I loved to dream of lovely Japan—
Amongst all those cherry blossoms,
Earthquakes must be an awakening.
That should be the perfect comfort:
Reckless inaction.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem