My Panther’s Naïve Dream

My panther’s naïve dream was to leap toward the moon
And drag the moon down from its heights onto the earth
My panther, my proud heart, leapt and struck at emptiness
For the love of my lofty moon was beyond reach

You and I are two lines, yes, parallel by necessity
Both believing from the start that we would never meet

Blooming flower, farewell—though the moment of seeing you
Was the beginning of a temptation in me, called seeing and plucking

I asked for wine, but my life poured poison into my mouth
The deceiver, the trickster, made excuses of not hearing

Though no dead flower ever bloomed again
Spring in the trumpet-flower kept blowing warmth endlessly

What a sorrowful fate, that the little silkworm
Wove a cage all its life, yet dreamed only of flying