A Tanka Prose
"What is human life? " I once asked my philosophy professor. I didn't get a satisfactory answer then, and don't have one even now.
day by day
I get up, eat, read, write
and sleep -
my mind grows grayer
with each night's dream
It is commonly believed that human life is like a blade of grass that sprouts in early spring, grows green and strong in summer, and then, as time slips by, withers in late autumn, and finally dies out in winter.
I stare
at the sun steadily
seeing Death
wave to me
I wave back and start writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem