The waning moon hangs over the sparse paulownia trees. The night watch has ended, and all is quiet. Who sees the solitary wanderer come and go, like a faint shadow of a lone wild goose?
I wish I were the wind.
I wish I were the moon.
I am the blossoms flying beneath the willows.
With wine in hand, I sing aloud,
and live as my carefree self.
I care not what the world says of me,
so long as I can truly be myself,
passing the days amid laughter,
too lazy to care about merit or blame.
With wine in hand, I sing aloud,
not counting the causes and consequences.
Through wind and rain, I live joyfully,
savoring each day.
I will become my true self again,
and ask the false self I once was:
What was it all for, these first half of my life?
Sleep, then wake drunk; wake drunk, then sleep.
After sleeping, get drunk again, then sleep.
What more could I ask for?
I will become my true self again,
and look back at the false self I once was.
I laugh at that foolish, silly soul.
Who am I? Who am I?
There's no need to care who I am.
Life is all the better for it.
This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.
