Dark clouds made the rain,
and the green plants made the shade.
I (the farmer) stopped farming once,
and I read the book deeply.
The old theory’s sentences with well-formed and virtuous
sank into my declined and weaken body.
The old scholar’s real thought
came into my silent and deep heart.
Like choking on dew,
the cicadas that lived in the mountain made noise around the pine tree.
Flying in an arc,
the swallow carried on the wind passed the bamboo grove.
I didn’t see the good behavior of a natural phenomenon yet.
But even so, I wanted to manage to make the ancient Chinese poetry
with deeping in thought about it and being troubled by it.
Masaya Samura (pen name: Gensai Shirakawa) in Osaka, Japan
at May 31, 2017