Wordless Winter · Dazaiosamu
When the Cat Is Away, We Stroll Along Each Other's Lakeshores
The cat is outand the door is locked tightwe gather around the edges of the cramped spacethereby to fashion a festival of sacred mysteryrefusing to recall:cold souls crawling along summer riverbedsinsect eggs reflecting light like phosphorusleading to a vast forest, a burrow like a theaterEnough of that, enough of that—fog-walking along the rain-roadthe dim gleam at the car's rear becomes the only lighthouse to witness time dieour oars, meanwhile, creakWhat moves with the invisible ether—can it be only your heart and mine, rusting like machines? The cat is outand the door is locked tighteven the moon cannot get inat the heart of this small and sorrowful festivallet us kiss fitfullyand by this confirm each other's existenceeven though the prophecy of our eternal lifehas never once held true through all dynasties and ages On the dark side of the worldyou, lightly pinching a corner of the curtain, dust caught in your lashes—from the asteroid belt comes a slow and soundless sob“And yet no one takes pity”“you sorrowing saint” With a creased heartonly when I looked toward you did I come to knowthe goodness and wonder of the creature called the cat Night has grown colderthe fire in the stove has also gone outyou smile at me so gently, so softlyand I do not knowyour heart is already full of the corpses of cats