I’ve come to Kobe
I look for a yellow page
I look for a red phone booth
Can’t find them anywhere
I have no choice but to roam around
Looking for a break in the sky somewhere
There is none
Memories are stored in the sky; they don't come down from the sky
Half the sky is occupied by crows
Half the sky is occupied by seagulls
Flying along the borderline are sea cormorants
With that situation on the ground
My ego splits in two
Aiming at the sea side and the mountain side at the same time
Hawaiians call it mauka (mountain side) and makai (ocean side)
Aiming for the past and the future at once
Compared to the birds who reside in the sky
Humans are senseless
In a contradictory nostalgia
Heart is crying
Heading for the Makai (Demon’s World) beyond Chinatown
I come to the port at noon, shivering in fear of the sea
February sky is blue, wind is cold
This serene harbor is an archive of various memories
Schools of small fish scatter the light
The sea cormorants tilt their wings at it
Seagulls bask in the sun of despair
If you look into the water, you'll see under the clear water
The broken rock wall is still there as is
Just there as is
Stopping time
History is uncertain
“You know, Kobe really is a kobe (head),” says the pink seagull.
I reply, "Don’t pun on me."
All feelings arise between a head and another
Once the head is taken, all is gone
Nothing remains
Reflected in the water is oblivion

Kobe in my memory is in winter
The gray sea seemed to be rotating slowly
It's not so much the snow that falls, but the snow that is blown away
That melted into the gray surface of the water
The sky is almost transparently blue now
Then the next day, I went to Kyoto
The River Kamo was surprisingly snowed in
Black-headed gulls float on snowy water