These cherry blossoms drifting everywhere,
My senses overwhelmed but not yet gone.
This fog, it clouds my vision here and there,
I wonder just how far from here to yon
Because I must know if I bid it stay,
Or if it's simply better to let go.
I know the answer yet, but still I pray:
The fog is sweet, is mine, is all I know.
I can't imagine life without this fire.
For what? or why? How would I live therein?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem