The wind blew strongly and the long spell of rain
fell on the day of harvest moon.
Because there had been more cloud than the ordinary days,
so we had not seen the elegant and beautiful moon yet.
The fierce storms of the typhoons
came and went to Japan many times over.
And the natural disaster was like to be punished by heaven.
On the today’s cloudy weather,
as observing the state of things slightly between the clouds,
the moon like the golden tray began to appear suddenly.
I heard the songs of the insects on the staircase
with no sign of human habitation.
And it was the time when the rice plants were abundant
in the rice paddies.
The light (moonlight) of the half the sky got over the storage reservoir.
In my hometown, the people just entered the time for cultivation.
So the people of the farmers became their expressions of relief gradually.
They presented the offerings to the spirits here.
And they drank the refined sake considerably.
And they sang loudly with no stopping.
The usual sound of the Japanese harps sounded desolate from old times.
But now they sounded the great joy.
These (such the feelings) are surely the proper properties that innated
in particularly only the poet.
I will only express my feelings to this Tianci,
and will only offer the Tianci.
Masaya Samura (pen name: Gensai Shirakawa) in Osaka, Japan.
(at September 18, 2016 (for September 17))