I used to look for a river.
A wide river flows quietly.
I believe that was my past life.
I watched it countless times since I was a child:
In a flash, in a dream.
Just let me see: a few seconds of brightness.
And then gradually disappear.
Lonely rivers flow on the earth.
What kind of moonlit night and day does it flow?
What hills, Woods and villages did it shine on?
What kind of years took it away and never came back?
A bright river that disappears forever: I never found it.
That spring, I walked on the banks of countless rivers.
Countless ... However, they have no past:
They don't know the loneliness and darkness of my life.
Warm microwave, flowing quietly.
I like the moonlight in my last life and my hometown.
However, it always reappears instantly.
I have been close to it countless times, so that it is always a distance.
Many years passed: from the age of twenty to this spring.
I saw that since then I have become two:
Living alone in the world, reading, writing and sleeping.
A river still flowing in the distance.