It's a hoax, with enchanting anguish,
That's why life is strong, and full of gloom:
Often, with its rough hand, in harsh language,
Life sends notes, exclaiming, "You are doomed!"
Every time I close my eyes, I'm saying:
"Only make my heart somewhat alert.
Life is fake, though some lies and pain,
When adorned with joys, get less absurd.
Face the gray-haired sky, whose life ain't ending,
Prophesize your future with the moon,
Just calm down. You're mortal. Quit demanding,
You don't need to know the truth so soon."
Living through a snowstorm from bird cherries,
It's so nice to think that this is fate:
May my lightweight ladies dupe, not caring,
May I by light male friends be betrayed.
May I be caressed by words of tender,
May there speak some razor-edged, vile tongue,
I'll accept whatever life will render,
Mercilessly used to all its wrongs.
These bright heights are making my heart colder,
Warmth from starlight fires one can't detect:
Those, whom I had loved, renounced or sold me,
Those, for whom I'd lived, won't recollect.
Yet, though I've been pressed and persecuted,
I keep smiling, happy with each dawn.
Love for this dear Earth cannot be muted.
I thank life for all that's going on.