I know that momentary pleasures,
Do not hold true.
I have known it from the start.
No one knows what lays...
Beneath the skin of man,
Inside an organ called, "The heart."
Within a bell rings...
A butterfly on wings...
The flutter that it causes is unknown.
And, yet somehow they can be shown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem