When I see an attractive flower,
I’ve become a boy again who
was looking up at a rainbow.
I don’t know what dream the boy dreamt that time, but
I haven’t accomplished anything.
I’ve turned into a butterfly and
I am dreaming.
Hungry butterflies would swarm like dung flies
around that gorgeous flower.
Beauty creates loneliness, I should say
Ah! A small crack could be provided for me
If I were able to touch the pistil
without being soiled by the stench of dung flies!
the boy is still looking up at the rainbow.