The Fool Raises His Blade and Sings

I love the little grass that grows beside the stream, and hear the orioles sing among the deep woods.

An umbrella can shield you from rain in the sky, but not from the rain in your heart. So why not raise a blade and become a rebel?

At dawn, the stern gods and ghosts cry out; the rebel raises his blade and sings as he goes.

Spring tides bring the evening rain in a rush; at the deserted ferry, a lone boat drifts freely.

Who says you cannot defy the script written by the gods?