Several times, I got to the pains of my chronic disease.
Sometimes it was difficult for me to drink a cup of tea.
On the pretence of my illness, I refused to see the usual visitor.
And with being anxious about the circumstances of nowadays,
I made the Ancient Chinese Poetry about my sorrow recklessly.
Declining the primordial power to grow all things,
the mountains became the severe climate in autumn
to the extent that perished the plants.
The trees lost the leaves,
and the branches lied and slanted.
I had the figure like the shadow in the window with taking medicine.
There was a flower in a vase with being afraid of the cold.
By the fireside, I valued to take a rest.
Under the light, I added to write the letters with my pen.
In my daily life to get up and sleep,
if I am able to make the Ancient Chinese Poetry,
I will make it about when I can see the prominent scenery far away.
Masaya Samura (pen name: Gensai Shirakawa) in Osaka, Japan
(at October 16, 2016 (for October 15))