We, The Zipangu People Poem by Mutsuo Takahashi
We, The Zipangu People
The island, draped in golden clouds,
does not exist anywhere on the chart.
We, the residents of the island, too,
do not exist anywhere in reality.
The sea of merchant Marco Polo's fantasy -
contiguous with it, the sailors'
cerebral ocean in whose storm we float, drift,
we, the so-called Zipangu people:
a multitude who are in the end an illusion, a dream, non-existent.
Never believe our word.
Aloha Mutsuo... It is our honour Sir... for you to have joined in, into this site' world of words... I will to learn all of your thoughts... especially those which are revelant to the issues of these daze and US running out or our times... My most profound respect... All of the best from this life, to you, and all of your relations... Michaelw1two.
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4/13/2024 5:00:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I have not read such a powerful poem since long where the inhabitants disown their very existence. This is a beautiful piece of poetry indeed. Thanks, Sir.