Life Is This Small

Sound of harmonica being played by a nameless
and faceless woman; I can only hear the green
music through the grapevine from the other side
of the Pacific, but the depression starts releasing
its tight grip little by little without letting me know.

The cheerful laughter of the woman I love;
I can hear the jangling only through my heart,
but happiness knocks on my window just like
a dew-soaked sparrow at autumn daybreak.

The fresh chorus of wild blossoms; I can only hear
through my desire-filled eyes, but the singing raises
my weighty life up, gives it a big bright smile and let
it stand up with a small stretch; The life that used to
tumble over a tiny jagged stone on a gravel road.

Now I realize
Life is this small.

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