In the sky is heard a blue-magpies voice. Such freshness in this dense sorrow. A fable that is light and humorous. The streets cannot be lonely deep within its warmth. Even the winter sun breaks through the strands of damp. And the bright moon, half- soaked with pain. Feels neither joy nor sorrow. But is once again able to find the road home.
The world at our backs. The foreign birds in hiding. Feeding on their bitter tears and lost causes. And everybody is wondering. Does this place allow love? Not a deep dramatic role to be found. It is not easy. But I look on your eyes. and I can do better. Whenever we talk, we embrace. A reunion of souls. And when we kiss, a love of nakedness and lust. Hearts wedded to the turning sky and borrowed seed that leaps inside. Let us live in our collective memory.
I stand alone with all the common states of mind. And the devil that poetry brings. Through red sunlight blue rain falls. Warmer than the winds of winter. Towards the east a jade hall opens. A cool and cleansing joy. Once again doctrines are never sound. And thick creepers cover the old walls.
The foreign birds are fearful of the sky. They are fearful of the river and choose to play hide-and-seek with the phases of the moon. Barefoot in the cold they huddle together and run slant. Almost in Orion’s grasp. But I have you. Pulling me in a sweet direction. with lips open in sweet surrender. And then I moan and move on without any regrets or fear.
Both the silent and those with voice. Are but drops of dew. Unable, and unwilling to transform themselves into the blue clouds. I seek not the vestibule to paradise. But a mind to grasp this infinite nothingness. And a soul to touch you once again.
When day broke I looked outside. The sky was not praised. The morning birds were not praised. And I was left alone again. I saw a single magpie, a stone in its beak. Still trying to talk of spring freedom and firebirds that soar. Well then, I’ve lived for ages. And my ears remember the ocean’s echoes. And in the spring to come. I will meet you again. Moment by moment this is the way.
I heard that everyone goes on this road. It’s miserable to imagine that. No flowers and no fruit to produce. I think I will choose a different road. One with a raging fire and the magpies flying high. I will wonder what to do with the rest of my life.
The magpie laughs in the half-madness between us. Tell me what has happened here? Clothes are wet with the blue air. As the voice of the torrent attempts to subdue the dragons of desire. But I think of such pleasures still to come. Of a quiet calm before I look at your body again. Every finger on the right note. Everything in its own pleasure.
A sudden lurch urged me to rest and shut my life. Lazily highlighting a defensive stance. But paired with the pen and the whistle of love. I will not yield to this docile glance. But embrace the warmth of this mundane time. Today is a good day to live.
The envious water obscures the silver sky. Pitching us all into darkness. As cherry-bloom lie scattered on the empty streets. Once full of life But fading in a moment. Yet, even through the gloom I see the golden beams. That never cease their glow. To know the path of love and travelling, Enough to take me beyond this home of nothingness.