tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60611902488817649342011-11-19T15:28:56.793+09:00To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. Auguries of Innocence　　William Blake　Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.comBlogger3861100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-46819126307647254382011-11-19T15:28:00.000+09:002011-11-19T15:28:56.815+09:00

Hide-and-seek Still remains in the roomStill, in the room,Your breath. Water to be filled,Glass to be solidified. I look for youOnly outside time. Facing a burning tree,An old man’s swallowingHis screams. And thusLa matinée musicale has comeTo the giraffe’s neck.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-52020238874128289452011-06-02T02:04:00.002+09:002011-06-02T15:17:32.216+09:00

A hidden being                                                          For Akira Shimizu, a poet His voicesStill remainIn my room. So fragile,Are his words.So unusual,Is his silence. He’s now Outside language,Namely the world. A death, a hidden being.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-84670733653860025312011-05-07T00:25:00.000+09:002011-05-07T00:25:13.788+09:00

the night sun the concert hall:all doors openedall windows openedunder the night sun. among non-beingears to hearthe earth on the stringsthe universe on the keyboards. that time, that space,and that love remainunder the night sun.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-55148185547274718952011-05-01T21:14:00.000+09:002011-05-01T21:14:49.621+09:00

night flower two glasses: two circles of light at these bottoms night begins summer

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-22566253325962759962011-04-28T00:27:00.004+09:002011-04-29T08:38:56.804+09:00

anyway spring rain. pattern poetry on the bus window. it's far sound, far people, and far memories rain's falling into the past. memories always outside me.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-90166215603017519112011-04-26T19:49:00.003+09:002011-04-26T21:07:22.705+09:00

invisible fire boys running around. women talking about the blossoms. feel breeze by the finger. and then colorless cherry blossoms in my mind. the pale blue in your eyes. the pale fire in the land.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-44565005361544142182011-04-23T00:41:00.003+09:002011-04-30T12:19:25.553+09:00

(photo) cherry blossoms in a park the night sun for three excellent artists the concert hall: all doors opened all windows opened under the night sun. among non-beings ears to hear the earth on the strings the space on the keyboards. logics beyond logics under the night sun. ※One day in April, three great artists came to Japan from Russia to encourage us. Their names are Gidon

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-37159317218887006622011-01-17T19:52:00.002+09:002011-01-17T19:55:02.376+09:00

Bench The sunny benchNext a dispenserWhere the homeless man lives. SunshineMoonlight.He knows wellWe are meaningless like them. He sees to see,Hears to hear,Touches to touch,The world. He lives to live.He dies to die. He left the bench,Newspaper in the sunlight.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-74911739120158155782011-01-10T18:59:00.001+09:002011-01-10T19:38:31.844+09:00

love the birth: the sea resides in you. the death: the sea leaves you.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-18369616135838879352011-01-01T12:05:00.000+09:002011-01-01T12:05:20.786+09:00

Someday The Orion In the new year's sky. We are a noisy question. Life: the great exception In the universe. The difference Between life and nonlife, nameless flowers know. The Orion remains, we go someday Into the long-forgotten silence.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-4240592488629642592010-12-13T09:43:00.000+09:002010-12-13T09:43:38.386+09:00

Two breadsOn the table. One is round,The other is cubic. I’ve just eaten.They become me.I’m round and cubic. The moonOver the wheat fieldAlso into me. I take a walk By Mare Tranquillitatis,Being round and cubic.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-85730081255832729582010-12-11T09:58:00.000+09:002010-12-11T09:58:11.224+09:00

Going mad　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　For D.H You’ve vanished in your bed. Blue and blueWere your words. You rejectedSanity and insanity.You were suspicious ofEvery certain proposition. So profoundWere your eyes.So brilliantWere your jokes. You never acted.You're invisible.You’re me.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-29666419556966021212010-12-06T12:55:00.002+09:002010-12-07T00:12:28.531+09:00

Late life You’re madeOut of memories. Smiling on the bed,Crying on the bed,Getting angry on the bed. You’re in the countryWithout memories.You’re nowhere. You grow olderIn the land Without time.You’re everywhere. You ’re madeOut of memories.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-48753716655030378202010-11-30T09:08:00.000+09:002010-11-30T09:08:16.189+09:00

Answer On the still stone pathIn rainy winter BernI forget myself. Before the bronze snakeIn eternal winter sleepI forget myself. I am an answerTo someone Who had livedOn the ground. An insane answer.An insomnia answer.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-54011562414857308052010-11-29T19:56:00.001+09:002010-11-29T19:57:28.293+09:00

The smellOf fireIn the winter nights. The street treesBurn without fire. My lost keyBecomesColder and colder. Eternity;FearI have.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-13648195887631439752010-11-28T11:54:00.000+09:002010-11-28T11:54:12.284+09:00

A song Sings us. It Finishes.And weVanish. Silence Survives silence.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-60136161388803516682010-11-27T09:47:00.000+09:002010-11-27T09:47:39.538+09:00

Remain Waiting for somethingIs loving it.And it necessarily goes. December rainFalling in my memory.I have no umbrella. I leave,Memories remain.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-14753354420750166202010-11-26T11:59:00.000+09:002010-11-26T11:59:39.388+09:00

Sky A clockOn the wall.2:00 am. He was a boyWho dreamed ofThe blue sky. Lost stars.Lost people.He meets themin his dream. DespairResemblesThe deep blue sky.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-58475579184801472042010-11-24T07:18:00.000+09:002010-11-24T07:18:06.396+09:00

Return WaterAlways returnsTo the origin. The originOf you.I think I knowIt’s untouchable snow. A shadow birdIn your eyes.It returns in winterTo the place whereThe mountain and the river meet. LanguageAlways returnsTo the silence. I’m just a wrong language.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-86364770975943701222010-11-22T11:05:00.002+09:002010-11-22T11:30:21.341+09:00

Someday Rain to snow.Death to Earth.Human to the sea. Whales never failTo swim.But we sometimesFail to even take a walk. Rain Which reminds meOf my death to the sea.Rain’s fallingInside of me. Winter rainy dayIs the day When I wear the back.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-48015424176943615722010-11-20T05:51:00.000+09:002010-11-20T05:51:16.271+09:00

SilenceThat is universalIn the galaxy. Only human beings Are nosy. Sometimes We look for silenceIn our words. Death That is universalIn the galaxy. Only lifeHas colors. So we sometimesWear the black. MadnessThat is universalIn the galaxy. Only senseMakes societies. So we sometimesKill our neighbor.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-15932681237743337722010-11-19T06:51:00.000+09:002010-11-19T06:51:36.908+09:00

A mobile phoneMakes me lonely. I tried to hearWind's words from you.I tried to hear Fire's words from you.But I heardA baby crying. A mobile phoneMakes me lonely.It knows Words outsideOf words.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-59748121656306372472010-11-16T18:04:00.001+09:002010-11-16T18:08:22.187+09:00

I've lost my cards That identify myself, Open the door, Bring me to a psychiatrist,And give me chances to dream. Cards are life. I've lost my cardsIn the moonless night. I've lost even my death.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-88138193828187098792010-11-15T09:02:00.000+09:002010-11-15T09:02:02.583+09:00

Crows fly Across the November river.They never rush.They fly to the past In the yesterday skyAcross the last year river. Time doesn’t flyBut stays in the past. And I Walk Toward  The deathThat I never experience.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-47595228868206347042010-11-14T18:19:00.001+09:002010-12-10T16:42:04.042+09:00

I talk about Snow outside Murder by a neighbor War overseas. I enjoy the linguistic game Around a stunted thought. A Japanese poet said, " I shouldn't have remembered words." I agree with him. But the world without words Has no behaviors. I'm seeing Snow falling from my room. He didn't deny Some responsibility For the world Where it snows violently.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-42570137456147020602010-11-13T21:33:00.001+09:002010-11-13T21:49:53.147+09:00

The first snowOn the silence of stonesThe single colorPainted the diversity A rose as red as bloodIn your hand I’ m surprisedAt the contexts of snow

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-61217673021147479432010-11-13T00:09:00.000+09:002010-11-13T00:09:28.102+09:00

The city lights Reflected on the winter lake Genève is now In the scent of full moon Sadness in his eyes The truth in his falsetto The lake is too pellucid

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-16063066883445005162010-11-12T14:40:00.000+09:002010-11-12T14:40:01.220+09:00

At the end Of a bare corridor, Autumn leaves In sunlight There are always answers In my memory But no questions No writings

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-38000773674183687532010-11-12T09:16:00.001+09:002010-11-12T09:17:00.108+09:00

The shade on the desk Of a small stone From Lac Léman Winter has come in it The sound of silence Somewhere

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-72473056954398457682010-11-11T11:28:00.001+09:002010-11-11T11:34:07.609+09:00

All the rivers To the sea All the living now As the cosmos flowers Beyond love Beyond poetry A boy's counting stars

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-36504678194060512162010-11-09T20:00:00.000+09:002010-11-09T20:00:02.589+09:00

Time flows slowly Through the land The sun never sets Over the lake A still winter In a swan

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-73879257228768823842010-11-09T14:02:00.003+09:002010-11-09T19:28:14.951+09:00

The deep winter sky -A hawk fallingInto itAnother moonAnother vanity

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-24621914713234151302010-11-07T22:34:00.001+09:002010-11-09T19:29:05.085+09:00

The autumn water In the glass Rhein still runs In it. I'm satisfied The earth is round.

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-91131268810138409752010-06-08T06:52:00.000+09:002010-06-08T06:52:04.990+09:00

(photo) sprouts of rice peony flowers - even their shadows have colors

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-10403126575498930762010-06-07T05:54:00.001+09:002010-06-07T17:32:53.872+09:00

(photo) hydrangeas white paper: world doesn't still begin words are at the edge of the world we often fall it out - breezing there

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-45748314538167313232010-06-03T12:47:00.001+09:002010-06-03T12:47:50.890+09:00

(photo) untitled smiling on the bed crying on the bed - her late life

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-35288931109908852342010-06-03T12:44:00.002+09:002010-06-03T12:45:05.143+09:00

(photo) clouds in June summer clouds in the rice field a smile to me

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-14693330156173504002010-05-23T06:56:00.000+09:002010-05-23T06:56:35.704+09:00

(photo) a monument of Basho's haiku birds don't know happiness or unhappiness late May river

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-72634056334687539872010-05-23T06:50:00.000+09:002010-05-23T06:50:37.752+09:00

(photo) the temple called Konponji associated with Basho silence is  the comfortable word fresh green tea

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-21273571621592414822010-05-22T08:11:00.000+09:002010-05-22T08:11:26.144+09:00

(photo) Tone river fallen persimmon flowers on the wet paving stones on holiday morning

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-41964529718411505572010-05-22T08:01:00.000+09:002010-05-22T08:01:11.242+09:00

(photo) rice field the old man said to the homeless man,  good luck, under the fresh green

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(photo) Kashima shrine the sound of the surf deep in the fresh green - Kashima shrine

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(photo) untitled fresh green leaves shaking in the wind - even their shadows are green

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-58500948796665554672010-05-18T01:52:00.000+09:002010-05-18T01:52:35.536+09:00

(photo) untitled hear a good old song from the bath the night of greens

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(photo) untitled the night of the fresh green is on my palm - moonless

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Chapter 1 Columbus, the Indians, and human progress I think it interesting that Zinn begins the US history from Columbus' discovery. Even though there has been history in America before the discovery, he takes this writing style that probably reveals Zinn's western-orientated view of the US history. Zinn said that Spain sought gold, more useful than land because it could buy anything.

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(photo) untitled a gourd swings slowly in the wind eye on genesis

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(photo) untitled black summer clouds carry the sun away croaks the raven like Poe's

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(photo) untitled the motorbike's engine is still hot summer rain

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(photo) azalea look down various flowers of umbrellas - summer rain

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(photo) willow and boat alone in the room I remembered the lake the wind of greens

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(photo) untitled fresh greens - today's suitable for Mozart's music

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(photo) Tone river the summer cloud,  as large as a country, is falling down to the sea

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(photo) wisteria flowers a quiet old couple under the greens eternity called time

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(photo) fallen leaves in early summer kiwi fruit in the yoghurt is having she without words - the proof of the deliciousness

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(photo) my favorite drink, summer for a beer ambulance sirens - another life, another death in the night of greens

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(photo) early summer flower offer my seatto an old lady Mather's Day

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(photo) wisteria flowers she has her bare footin the quiet lake the winds of greens 

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-6978153410245695962010-05-06T01:50:00.001+09:002010-05-06T01:51:24.352+09:00

(photo) untitled a ballflys to the sun Children's Day

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(photo) greens and the old man the salesgirl counts the changewith a smile May Day

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(photo) wisteria blossoms field mustard in the breeze   the boy looks backon his whole life

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(photo) untitled a boy has noticedwinter's beautywith Vivaldi

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-46930901060589890042010-05-01T09:43:00.001+09:002010-05-01T09:44:13.560+09:00

(photo) untitled spring moon carps' jumpings here and therein the river

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(photo) people's sky amongthe kid sparrowsis hot-tempered one

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(photo) spring clouds spring's gone before it comes here-the sparrows know that

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(photo) late afternoon at the river the trumpeterplays Home, Sweet Hometo the spring sky

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(photo)maybe pear blossoms spring's gonewhile cleaning my room -to the place we come from 

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(photo) blossom rain, in the Ueno park, Tokyo I went to Ueno Thursday to listen to the music of Inannis Xenakis(1922-2001) who was one of important contemporary musicians. He was born in Romania as a Greek, maybe a Jewish Greek. His life was really hard. He was involved in the Greek civil war after coming back to Greece. He lost his left eye and was seriously injured in the jaw in the war. He

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(photo) cherry blossoms in the Ueno park the sound ofspring tide under the road -from every home

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(photo) spring clouds just washed sky,spring clouds are comingone after another

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-58093474233436372132010-04-22T09:10:00.001+09:002010-04-22T09:10:45.740+09:00

(photo) untitled look up at the ginkgo greens -the sky after me

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(photo) untitled petals of cherry blossomson the rice paddy -various remembrances 

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(photo) cloudy sky and ginkgo greens petalsfluttering in the valley of buildings

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(photo) untitled a part of cherry blossom petalswill arrive at the seaby now 

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(photo) untitled hearing the soundof blossom snow  the door into the past

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(photo) untitled everyone dozingin the spring train new moon

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(photo) untitled a petalblows up to me -the red parapet

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(photo) untitled the homeless mansmiles at me blossom cool

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(photo) sunshine in late afternoon the wash dancingin every balcony peach blossoms

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-89985298203875601992010-04-12T09:07:00.002+09:002010-04-12T09:08:26.982+09:00

(photo) untitled cherry blossomsin the ravine -the petals fall in the sky

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(photo) untitled butterflies enjoyfreedom to fly -small but heavenly garden

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(photo) field mustards and the sky field mustards open, traveling under the sky -feel like seeing old friends

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(photo) untitled a spring cabbage -made fromspring sun and moon

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(photo) untitled the more wind blown,the greener willows are-who waked me up?

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-44611575046261410302010-04-09T16:11:00.009+09:002010-04-11T11:01:05.820+09:00

(photo) untitled wind blown -the sky originates inthe field mustrads

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(photo) untitled from sun to sunmoves homeless man  spring dream

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-29431755395135783572010-04-09T10:50:00.002+09:002010-04-11T11:02:15.863+09:00

(photo) field mustards in the field mustardswinds appear anddisappear

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-3961265655668430892010-04-09T00:00:00.001+09:002010-04-11T06:46:18.263+09:00

(photo) untitled The old womanpicks up fallen camellias -like memories of loves

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-17242470195278800482010-04-08T09:56:00.004+09:002010-04-11T06:45:59.353+09:00

(photo) untitled be a dragon!the earthworm crawls under the blue sky

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(photo) blossoms cherry blossom petalstravelling to the ground -eternity in a moment

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-36603136093595212952010-04-07T09:46:00.003+09:002010-04-11T06:45:24.010+09:00

(photo) drooping cherry blossoms some petalson his shoulder -he's a policeman

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-19761080327150380982010-04-07T09:13:00.004+09:002010-04-11T07:07:01.581+09:00

(photo) cherry blossoms and children under cherry blossomschildren playing -now they are nymphs

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(photo) morning cherry blossoms morning cherry blossoms -fallen petals tolight particles

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-32863986501969991612010-04-05T08:55:00.003+09:002010-04-11T06:44:12.018+09:00

(photo) untitled listening to the blossoms, looking at the scentin the silence of rain

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-53458956202728521662010-04-05T07:51:00.005+09:002010-04-11T07:22:04.065+09:00

(photo) untitled the sky remains the same for a thousand years    the cherry blossoms

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(photo) blossoms cool a wood mantalking to his tree -the wind of petals

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-11747574342037132952010-04-04T17:35:00.003+09:002010-04-11T07:19:16.654+09:00

(photo) cherry blossoms in bloom swinging a swing -nothing but blue skyin my mind

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(photo)  rape blossoms a cherry rice cake -the memory ofthe blossoms mountain

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-67892027397053389442010-04-04T05:35:00.003+09:002010-04-11T06:42:15.693+09:00

(photo) working man's cafe For K. F the sunset droopof a thousand years -the cherry blossoms

Winter moonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11291046200349323320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6061190248881764934.post-39100050956965220472010-04-03T06:35:00.004+09:002010-04-11T06:38:31.066+09:00

(photo) four crows in the cloudy sky  fallen camellias    the wooden crossdecayed into the ground

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