One.

Two little droplets,
sitting in the sun.
At least their smiling,
I think I forgot.

Two large birches,
swaying in the breeze.
They sing merrily,
when my love song is over.

Two wooden swings,
sighing and chatting.
Who sat on them today?
I wish for spoken comfort.

Two black hearses,
riding on the gloom.
A fallen person inside,
too bad it wasn't I.

Everyone is two,
what shall I do?
Loneliness is like this:
and then there was one.