Hanasakajijii (Two: Floating World)

I lay still in the fire.

Oh, the grass. Burn in bed.

Blackened ash.

A cold sound rustled in the trees

Pulling limbs.

The smoke rose. The smoke rose.

It'd come to make a mess of things

And throw a storm of burnt flakes,

Lifting to the air the floating world,

To let them go silent into the ground

Where all things make work of coming back.

I lay in the ground, wait, lonely for you.

My hair grows, nails grow out

And I count them as they go

One, two, three, four, five, six

Break into air.

Set themselves between the blades of grass,

So let your bare feet bleed.