| な ほ も ： な お の こ と |
岩 つ つ じ は ┐ い は ね ば └ の 序 詞 |
い は ね ば ： 云 わ な け れ ば |
身 を ば は か な む ： 身 を は か な む |
し ま う の で す |
か え っ て 想 い が 深 ま っ て |
君 に も の を 云 わ な い こ と で |
で も ` あ の 岩 つ つ じ で は な い が |
思 い し ら さ れ ま し た |
つ く づ く と 身 の は か な さ を |
君 に す っ か り 愛 想 を つ か さ れ て |
Recently I've been feeling more acutely about
what you call loneliness
or solitude. I did not think of these concepts realistically,
even though
I used these words quite often in my poetry.
When I was younger, they
were nothing but somewhat imagined feelings. I toyed about
them without
realizing what they really meant.
Now, I've come of an age where these
words bear a bare reality.
I've witnessed many old men and women who
moan and groan suffering
from loneliness. I did not know that age
would really make you isolated so
much. In this country, especially, people
do not give a damn to oldies.
I'm envious of other animals because they
judge each other not by age
but what they really are. That's quite fair!