Put Your Soul In The

The Snow On The Distant Mountains Was Soft And Creamy, As If Veiled In A Faint Smoke.

Lunatics Have No Age. If We Were Crazy, You And I, We Might Be A Great Deal Younger.

But A Haiku By Buson Came Into His Mind: 'i Try To Forget This Senile Love; A Chilly Autumn Shower.' The Gloom Only Grew Denser.

The Sound Of The Freezing Of Snow Over The Land Seemed To Roar Deep Into The Earth. There Was No Moon. The Stars, Almost Too Many Of Them To Be True, Came Forward So Brightly That It Was As If They Were Falling With The Swiftness Of The Void. As The Stars Came Nearer, The Sky Retreated Deeper And Deeper Into The Night Color. The Layers Of The Border Range, Indistinguishable One From Another, Cast Their Heaviness At The Skirt Of The Starry Sky In A Blackness Grave And Somber Enough To Communicate Their Mass. The Whole Of The Night Scene Came Together In A Clear, Tranquil Harmony.

Maybe Vagueness Has Been Good For Me. The Word Means Two Different Things In Tokyo And Osaka, You Know. In Tokyo It Means Stupidity, But In Osaka They Talk About Vagueness In A Painting And In A Game Of Go.