A path leading into autumn, where red berries
dotted among
the soft yellow leaves are washed
clean by the misty rain
A
tree with a thick trunk growing beneath
a rock stretches toward the sky in a strange pose,
The place where the gods dwell, surrounded
by a stone wall at the edge of the sky
, is quiet.
As I descended through the clouds,
The lovely path
, which I met once again, generously scattered
all it had and raised its crimson hand to bid me farewell,
The
dark mountainside stretches all the way to the street lit by streetlights.
