Farewell to the moon on this spring night, the clarity that cannot be expressed, not coming, yet it naturally reveals some faint shadows, intoxicated as before, it captures the heart as if it were the first encounter every time. But sigh at how deep the thoughts have become in the heart, still as clear and distinct as the murmuring stream, quietly seeping through the courtyard's crabapple, the bamboo in front of the desk, pondering for a while, this dream-like feeling gradually dissipates, drifting away like floating clouds, or becoming sparse and secluded like the evening breeze, unexpectedly, it seems that this insignificant, watery sentiment, much like the moonlight, makes the endless night seem brighter and brighter, resembling the sunrise of the sun, or as fresh and clear as the lotus leaves in the rippling waves, and the bright moon is probably shining from a certain corner.
Still the same as before, these unintentional thoughts, the heart's intentions, not wanting to ponder on how the wind and greenery will change, speaking of it, it's just like the bright moon, only a bit of ordinary brightness. And lately, thinking again, there is no need to distinguish between greatness and insignificance, just holding onto the desire to clear this long night's delusions, but it is also a sense of poetry and romance. If there is an intention to distinguish, often these emotions and thoughts quietly fade away, making one ponder and scatter, making people extremely worried, it seems that the heart only sees the bright moon decorating the small window elsewhere, and the clarity in front of the window seems to be fading, leaving only a sigh, making it difficult to say anything more.
This longing and anticipation are truly wonderful. Saying this, it feels a bit embarrassed, it was like this before, but what followed was only decorating this window in front of me, thinking about how to adorn it, perhaps changing the grass window woven with orchids and fragrant orchids to a delicate window made of gold foil and jade chips, even foolishly thinking of wearing a feather robe, adorned with pearls and jewels, seeking the clear shadows that most hearts feel, but never thinking about how to make oneself brighter and clearer, making the moon slowly come to me, causing this contemplation in the heart to spread 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, looking at the shadow of the bright moon, if it leaves me, there is probably no need to be slightly intoxicated for anyone else. And if I lose myself, even if it's a stunning bright moon, even if it's a beautiful small window, perhaps only the evening breeze and drifting clouds will be intoxicated.
Just watching, hoping, envying the bright moon in the small window elsewhere, it's not clear, how much unspoken and unspeakable contemplation has been put into the shadows in that small window elsewhere, perhaps it has been thought of, but then forgotten, and now feeling desolate and sad, yet it makes the moon's heart ponder on how it feels.
Translated by Mix Space. Original link: https://nishikori.tech/posts/prose/2021-08-16