
1950
Thursday, September 21. Light rain.
Fish want to survive; they deplore their pond's shallowness and dig holes in the bottom to hide in, yet tricked by baith, they take the hook. Birds in a tree fear that they are too low and perch in the top branches, yet bewitched by bait,they are too caught in snares.
Letter From Sado
After the meeting, I gave Mr. Toda a poem I had written. He was extremely happy and immediately composed two poems for me in return:
Often I stand
on the field of battle
with you as my sword,
at my side, always.
My glory as king fades,
and my power is failing;
I will leave behind, however,
you, my crown.
Boundless are my youthful emotions. I overflow with greater resolve.
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