Off,

I’ve started to miss the name of those nameless plants. Off to the side of the path,
Long, overgrown grass fluttering in waves with the wind, that sort of landscape
I’d see every day for days on end, I’ve finally had it today, well, not really
Exhausted, my eyes especially exhausted, I walk, the importance of those days
Break off, get broken partway, and grow soft

Things would seem to flip upside down in my exhaustion. I’ve started to miss
The name of that nameless grass which, like love and sex unremembered,
Was boycotted, abandoned simply because of its timidity. Shall I go on a trip
Trying to stir up the anxiety of a lonely afternoon? A sketch
As if to dig up anger. Will it all flow away?

A backyard that seems to have a name, that seems to have words,
That’s not the kind of place it is. It’s the kind of place where you dig a hole
And throw things away. And it’s the kind of place where the grass
Grows wild and unkempt. Ah, life blooming in a disorderly
Profusion of flowers. Plants flowering in an autumn field,
I’ll go to see them. Will try to walk there, will try to see them again

Cruel power is not replenished. A sweet little
Creek flows through it so as the land is carved away
A valley will form, I’ll have crossed the place where it begins any number of times
Mount Oku-Chichibu is shrouded in mist. The mountain cabin, surrounded in light rain,
Must be lonely as fall comes after the late August holidays, the caretaker must be lonely, I imagine.

When I’m awake, there are times I feel I don’t have anything to say
I’ll take a walk so I can go take a look. I’ve seen it, I have,
And so I went walking. Wondering if something will occur to me, to my heart
The flora of the forest, I hope I sleep quietly ’til tomorrow.

I’ve started to miss the names of the flowering plants.

OFF,