L：If I drive at top speed along this flat, straight road wthout a single house along it, I calm down all the more. Late autumn, on this street without people. Behind the visor my face was shrouded in green, but despite this, the glimmer in my eyes looks straight ahead. Whether there are few vegetables, or no fish in the sea, it is not worth being fearful. If I plant one grain of rice, it always yields three hundred grains in return.　　　　　　　　

R：As I walk slowly along the brick road is only certain path that I can follow to get home, I can't stop this burst of laughter. The scenery that eventually dies is an unseen sound of cicadas. Even toes are walking, wrapped in shadow in the midst of this carefree wrorld bathed in brilliant sunlight. I don't need to know whether I am eggplant or pumpkin. Surely at least once in this lifetime a butterfly will fly this way.

2001