Man in white, the storm is about to pass.
My Lord's swaying waterways spread out on the horizon.
Lost time, the bow we moored.
The whistle sounded and the kite flew into the sky.
Cheer, beacon of our future.
Not crying in the wind and rain
Fortunately, we think like steel.
In the cage air
Fly up the sky
Those weak and civilized people, in their dreams,
Still crawling under the banner of success
Those walkers whose eyes are shattered by existence
Into the abyss of mud.
Catch the dust of failure
Ring the midnight bell
Be alert, you are decadent heirs.
It is the most gorgeous flower and a dangerous square.
Because the most evil way is the way to the gods.
1990-7-28