To watch the moon. Leaning on the
Balcony, I breathe the evening
Wind from the west, heavy with the
Odours of decaying Autumn.
The rose jade of the river
Blends with the green jade of the void.
Hidden in the grass a cricket chirps.
Hidden in the sky storks cry out.
I turn over and over in
My heart the memories of
Other days. Tonight as always
There is no one to share my thoughts.
by Chu Shu Chen (c. 1200)
おたんじょうび おめでとう ございます, 洋子さん.