街燈の灯りと月の光の境い目を
小さな蛾が　ハタハタと蛇行しながら横切った
右に飛んだり　左に飛んだり

蛾は本当に飛ぶのがヘタだ
何処へ行こうとしているのか　其れさえ判らない
あの羽根の白い　目が緑色した　殆ど同じ格好の
強い風の日　ヒラリ　ヒラリと優雅に踊っている様に飛んで
そう、僕達は紋白蝶と言っている

ユラユラ飛んでいる様にみえるだろう
どうして　どうして彼らはどんなに強い風の日でも
ちゃんと目的地に行く

それに比べて蛾はどうだい
あっちにぶつかり　こっちにぶつかり
それに今日は風も吹いていない
月の光に惑わされたとでも言うのか

そう云えば蛾は群れているのをあまり見たことが無い
陽だまりの陰に羽を広げ　じっと動かず
いつも一人で何を思う

雲の間に間に流れる白い月が　薄黄色に変わると
蛾は又、ハタハタハタと動き出す

今日も君が振りまいた　無数の粒子が
街燈の光のなかで　キラキラと銀色に輝き
星の瞬きに見間違えた

----------------------------------------

Moth

Between the streetlamp's glow
and the moon's pale light,

a small moth
fluttered acrossー

right,
then left.

A moth
flies so poorly.
Who knows
where
it is trying to go.

White wings.
Green eyes.
Almost
the same.

Those
that drift
as though dancing,
even
in the strongest wind.

We call them

butterflies.

They seem
to wander.

Yet
they always
find their way.

But the mothー

this way,
that way.

Tonight,
there is
no wind.

Was it
the moonlight?

Come to think of it,

I have seldom
seen moths
together.

Wings spread,
motionless,

in the shadow
beside sunlight.

Always
alone.

What does it think?

Thenー

the white moon,
drifting
through the clouds,

turns
pale yellow.

The moth
begins againー

flutter,
flutter,
flutter.

And today again,

the countless particles
you scattered

shimmered
silver

in the streetlamp's light.

For a moment,

I thought

they were

stars.