The bell has gone.

Time for class has come

And gone.

People pass me through quickly, but

I can’t see their faces because

Like steamy mirrors.

They don’t see through the fog.

An ice floor, white, scratched.

I don’t know where I am,

But I know that is somewhere

I will go to.

I am the dream,

Out of time in time to come.

Under the cloud,

Is the furtive memory of the past.

Over the cloud,

Is the challenge of the future.

And today is the last day in Taiwan.

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:: elusive | 鏡花水月 ::

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