Farewell to the moon on this spring night, the clarity that cannot be described, not coming, yet it is quietly raising some faint shadows, intoxicated as before, just like the first encounter, grasping the emotions. But sighing that the thoughts deep in the heart are still as clear as the gurgling stream, quietly seeping into the courtyard's crabapple, the bamboo in front of the desk, pondering for a while, the dreamlike thoughts gradually dissipate, drifting away like floating clouds or becoming a gentle breeze, unexpectedly, such insignificant, watery emotions, like the moonlight, make the endless night clearer, resembling the sunrise of the sun or the freshness of lotus leaves in the water, and the bright moon is just a faint glow.
Still the same as before, these unintentional thoughts, the heart's intentions, not wanting to ponder how the wind and greenery will change, speaking of it, just like the bright moon, only a bit of ordinary brightness. Lately, thinking again, there is no need to distinguish between greatness and insignificance, just holding onto the delusion of clearing the long night, it is also a sentiment and romance. If intentionally trying to differentiate, often the emotions and thoughts dim, pondering for a while, then dispersing, making people extremely worried, it seems that the heart only sees the bright moon decorating the small window elsewhere, feeling that the clarity in front of the window is gradually fading, leaving only a sigh, truly making it difficult to speak further.
This hope and anticipation are indeed a wonderful idea. Saying this, it feels a bit embarrassed, as it was the same before, thinking about how to decorate this window, thinking about how to adorn it, perhaps changing the grass window woven with orchids and fragrant orchids to a window made of gold foil and jade chips, even foolishly thinking of wearing feathered clothes and adorning oneself with jewels, seeking the clear shadows that most hearts feel, but never considering how to make oneself brighter and clearer, making the moon slowly come to me, the contemplation in the heart spreading further, but never realizing how foolish and frivolous it is.
Perhaps it's better to say no more, at this moment, pushing open the grass window in front of me, thinking of looking at the shadow of the bright moon, if I am gone, there is no need to be slightly intoxicated for others. And if I am lost, the exquisite moon, the beautiful small window, perhaps only the evening breeze and flowing clouds will be intoxicated.
Just looking, longing, envying the bright moon in the small window elsewhere, it is not clear, how much unspoken and unspeakable contemplation has been put into the shadows in the small window elsewhere, perhaps it has been thought of, but then forgotten, and now feeling the sadness and sorrow, it also makes the heart of the moon have its own thoughts.
Translated by Mix Space. Original post link: https://nishikori.tech/posts/prose/2021-08-16