Nagase Kiyoko / 永瀬清子 – Ⅲ

Fleeting Moments 

 

 

 

Fleeting moments my poems form,

fleeting moments I love,

fleeting moments I stare at the flames

in the pitch-dark kitchen,

cheek in hand, face and hair dyed golden,

fleeting moments the wheat for the morning

cooks in the pot.

Do they come from heaven

or am I burning with the flames?

The dancing rhythm and how swift it is!

Oooo

in its scarlet light

a crown was minted for me.