"Poetry is like this. I am shaking after reading the blood!" -Selected readings of Kaoru Yosano's short songs.
Take poetry as evidence: Who dares to reject the beauty of wild flowers and the turbulent sinful woman?
Note: the original translation is wildflower red, and it seems more appropriate to change it to red.
Burning blood, exciting night in the dream hotel: God won't despise it? Such a traveler in spring.
Who told who: I am rouge? Trembling blood, my red years with endless longing for spring.
Say, let's live in this mountain. When the rouge is exhausted, the peach blossoms bloom.
Lily fragrance filled the room and her hair was messy. I feel the reddish color of the night, which is dissipating.
You never touched this? Soft skin with surging blood. Don't you feel bored preaching the truth?
Now? Looking back? My enthusiasm is like a blind man? Not afraid of the dark.
Whispering good night, spring night, exit your room, and I'll put your clothes on my clothes rack.
Purple figure? Fell on the grass and walked across the field this morning? All the way to the spring breeze? Comb my hair.
Yes, people from my hometown? Can I only ask? Wisteria on the floor next door? How's it going?
Standing next to him? In front of his mother's grave, a bunch of boughs and a nameless wife were presented. I shed tears for my daughter-in-law.
Note: At the time of writing this poem, Kaoru Yosano lived with her lover and was not married, so she was called "wife in name only".
Lotus boat: night boat? Come back late: monk, I want to ask you? Is there more red lotus or white lotus?
How about taking a bath? Dressed up, I also smiled naively at myself in the mirror-yesterday has passed?
Monk Erbaijun, isn't it? Do you see the figure of the woman who dreams of spring beside the begonia tree at dusk?
Stop lamenting and hit the road. Tonight, there will be something else.
Soft hands, waiting for you, take off your coat.
Outside the hotel during the day? A plum fell on my piano. Are you near Qingshui? Poetry.
Tonight, he will rest on his pillow? Will not give in to God? My soft arm: I don't violate it? Bai Baihe's dream!
Kyoto, autumn:? Look down at the water. I bit my little finger? Writing? Blood is cold.
What do you always feel you can get from a cloud? Do you see it? A message like a hymn.
"Poetry is like this. I am shaking after reading the blood!" ? A friend who said that? I'm laughing, right? I feel lonely.
Although love is? Fragile, short-lived, I'm too young to put these down? Spring poems were burned.
Thin because it is too hot in summer? I am a jealous wife of twenty years old. Summer in the country, whatever you say? About you in Kyoto.
Youth that is about to die? It's still burning ―― urgent? That's it? Keep burning, okay? I thought the same thing.