Plum Wine by Kotaro Takamura

The bottle of plum wine made and left by dead chieko,
dully stagnant with ten years weight, hold light, 
and in the amber of a wine cup congeals like a jewel ball


When alone late at night in the cold time of early spring
please have this, she said.


I think of the one who left this after dying 
Being threatened with anxiety of a broken mind,
With the distressing idea of ruin before long.