The Hirose River flows white. Time passes and all illusions must fade away. Wanting to catch my life, one day in the past I cast my line in the river… - Sakutarō Hagiwara

The past is a painful memory to me. The past was an ominous nightmare of frustrations, inaction, and a suffering body and flesh.

And my heart senses tears
it's the heart that always plays quietly alone
the heart is lonesome
the heart, early in its youthful boyhood, cast a shadow on my life
the gradually enlarging shadow of solitude
the shadow of terrifying melancholy grows.

In a field where bats swarmed
I watched a pillar of crumbling flesh
it trembled lonely in the evening darkness
smelled raw like dead-man's-grass that flutters at a shadow
and was as ugly as rotting meat with throngs of maggots crawling on it.