You are the first shine of the dawn,
The midsummer with a cup of green tea.
You are from a cyan pond deep in the forest,
The carp flapping some sparkling water drops.
You are Sirius on the night sky.
You are enchanted.
 
However, you are not the south wind,
The enormous old tree facing the rivers,
Or a humpback whale.
And you are certainly not the sea,
You aren’t the sea.
 
Maybe you can be a tower covered with rust,
Hanging alone when moon rises.
Maybe you can pick a piece of blue porcelain.
But you won’t ever go,
Sit and meditate on a cloud.
 
An unintentional look in the crowd will reveal,
That you are neither the piano,
Nor the audience down there apart from the show.
 
It might interest you to know,
Speaking of the vastness of universe,
That I am a floating asteroid silent in the darkness.
 
I also happen to be a sapling,
The marionette tired of dancing,
And the reeds aside of the lake.
 
I am also a fish in the sea,
And the cloud floating shaped as a sheep.
But sadly, I don’t have flamboyant luminance.
You are still the carp in the cyan pond,
You are always the carp in the cyan pond.
I am just perplexed if you’ve ever looked up the sky,
Or halt and feel the heart of the humpback whale.