I stood barefoot on dewy grass
As the sun ascends amongst the mist
My hair all messy and full of dirt, alas
A nomad of all the things I missed
No clothes, no skin, no muscles
The valley extends below my feet
I can see lilies, asters and ひまわり「himawari」
Forget me not, embrace those hours
Bury me in a bed of 椿「tsubaki」and 藤「fuji」flowers
After I open my belly like Mishima did
At the stage, on a gig
Jack Kerouac when Gary Snyder met him
An idle with an exotic pseudonym
Pasture grows back above the ashes that I left
Faster, embodied in flowers I'll be blessed
I am one with them
They are one with me
The arrows that can touch the Moon
Are my fingers upon you
And the waves of the sea whose whisper
Sound so clear
Tides that dry in your lips
Like laser beams behind an eclipse
There, all dead
With your fingertips above my forehead
No clothes, no skin, no life
In the sunrise there's a blemish, a darkish spot of angst
A reflection of the near-depression I may have
These words I have to embellish these empty hands o'mine
Are an infectious deception I use to complete every halves
Of this unfinished draft
I travel light
I travel nothing at all
Me, myself and I, on my own
My only companion, this path of stone
I only travel alone
I travel nothing at all
A vagabond of the beyond
Muddy feet I stand upon
Bloody concrete, where I belong
Wrong body to carry on
Long marathon on my own
Clothes, skin and life