Samurai

...to Miyamoto, Kensei.

The night is so serene, so quiet
And from afar just could be vaguely heard
Harmonious nocturnal cricket choir,
The lovely singing of a lonely bird.

The moon is shining as a coin of gold
Which someone strongly nailed to heavens
And the moonlight, so mystical and cold
Plays as a fish, the wave through cutting seventh.

The silver tsuba softly cools my hand,
The sword is sharpened like a razor blade,
And from the handle to the pointed end
The ornament is seen that tempering has made.

The sun will rise...The iron will conquer the iron,
The eyes will meet the eyes and life will death embrace.
As those moths, when flying into fire
Are seeing the samsara's wrathful face.

The years, weeks, the hours and minutes
Will stop on sharpest moment's tip
The sword will liberate the spirit
And break the door to the nonbeing's trip.

My path is fated. The challenge was accepted
Where will I go, will the prediction tell?
The way of death is trodden and perfected.
If will be slain, I'll go straight to hell!

Damn with regrets and just get rid of tension!
Whichever way, in emptiness will meet!
The total space has no separation.
Whatever comes, I just don't give a shit!