Among the shadows of summer,
I watch the darkness grow.
Where sunlight fades, the ink of night
Soaks into the colour of day like poison,
With nothing to distinguish black from white.
We are one and the same, no matter
Whether we define ourselves as different.
We breathe the same air, do we not?
We eat the same prey, do we not?
We are one and the same.
We should not grow as flowers do.
Lemon yellow buds of tulip and daffodil
Burst wearily from the ground,
Almost as if they sense their quick demise
And shortened lives.
But still they wander up to the sun quickly fading,
Still they wish to be the tallest.
How naive are we to grow and perish
As flowers do?
Snow will fall upon the stone beds
Of these innocent flowers
As misfortune falls upon ourselves.
I lie in the midst of a blizzard, but
I still move forward eagerly,
Like that budding flower from some time ago.
Am I not as gentle, sweet, and careless?