I thought about the humidity around me.
Green bamboo can be twisted out of water.
The wind from the mountains blew into their hearts.
My ears seem to fly into the air.
Or freeze it and burn it, burn it.
I've been sleeping in it, the man at Yamaguchi.
Burn her ears to ashes.
Never let her eavesdrop on my hunger.
You see, this drunken world is full of wine.
Bamboo also contains morning light and bright moon.
How painful their rustling sounds are!
The more it hurts, the more I want to peel it, and peel it into my nostrils.
Then my pain is also the pain of the world.