The Plate Poem by Michio Mado

When it slipped from my hand
before it hit the floor
the plate broke
inside me
that moment surprised me

When the plate reached the floor
and broke once again
it was embarrassed like the glory of the setting sun
Was it ashamed to be different from the plate that broke inside me?

No.
Its thought dashed to
its ancient dwelling place,
the final destination of its broken pieces,
each broken into smaller and smaller pieces

Translation: Takako Lento