The Sorrowful Bird

Sorrowful bird, where do you fly?
Alas, perhaps you have lost
that small promise of love itself!
Or have you lost that beautiful tree
where your nest once was?

What has happened lately, really?
Does the axe burn?
Or has the fire died out?

Your song that once
brought joy to this forest—
today that same song burns the forest mercilessly.
Of that lost happiness
I see no memory now.
Even your dear voice babbles in vain,
the sound no longer carries,
what we hear—only echoes!

Like your movement,
I too move, in the same wind.
My past, my debts—
everything flees away!
Like you,
some despair or memory
becomes companion—
wherever I go, whenever I go!

Whether I weep or not,
these eyes surely weep!
One by one the clouds drift away,
each time I forget my anxiety.
Darkness falls, fate opens its mouth.
Like you,
I have surrendered myself
to some unclear opportunity
or clear apprehension.

Ah, this night! A night for both of us.
O bird, come! Come, let us truly test now,
in this solitude, in prayer,
what really comes!
If voice rises before the storm rises,
whether the path ahead changes or not—
come, let us test by walking in this darkness!