I go
to
p ull radi shes, they' re in a fi eld on th e hill
'"
Wheat sown , windy day aft er day
'"
T hi s morning's fros t is dense, I go as a teacher
'"
Nex tdoor too, a ra in y sca lli on fi eld
'"
Hav ing shaven th e wh ole crown , th e freezing sky
Ni ght work begin s, th e ri ver sound
At th e ri ght moment a beggar came
'"
Rain , fa lling on bush cl ove rs and fl owin g
In cold ca lm , w ith sa il s lowered, th e mas ts
The hut 's paper door open , am bu ying sma ll fi sh
'"
Bea tin g th e fi sh- sh aped wooden drum of December
'"
A p ine con e, without ch an g in g, has turned into fire
The wind , tiring o f bl ow ing on the blue grass
T he storm di ed down at ni ght, I'm drinking ho t wa ter
A gun , g linting, deep snow
translated by Hiroaki Sata
