Your finger
on a table is shy in a faint morning light.
If I kiss the finger, the wrinkles of my lip
softly touch your golden downy hair,
don't you feel sad for some other?
Spend a night, the finger and the lip on a table;

A half apple and even the jar
of honey, you, and me, and
some unstable light to the side:

When I cherish
your feeling in my breast, don't you want
to thrust a knife into my heart for this love?
Wish that I am you and you need to wish that
you are me. There is also no hesitation so that
the bread which is daily food may be cut;

The atrocious event
unfolded with a
morning table:

The heart of
mine and you shed blood, besides,
the finger and the lip kissed,
golden honey flowed from the broken jar,
light overflowed like a tear from the window,
white curtain is like the skirt of a mourning dress;

The apple has sung "boy meets girl".
It trembles with the premotion
with the faint finger on a table.