Once at a November night, when I was fast asleep alone, <br />The Man-Sheep made a visit to my room. <br />The snow covered a white blanket in gray loom, <br />In my strange dream I heard a very low groan. <br /> <br />The air of Hokkaido cuts the thickets quietude, <br />The soft earth melts like fresh butter under feet. <br />The Man-Sheep sits and smokes on the bridge of wood. <br />The solitude descends from mountains and waits for me. <br /> <br />Some time ago wife deserted suddenly, <br />Than some anonymous girl (I called her Kiki, just to be polite) . <br />Now Time has pressed, with some melancholy <br />The emptiness supplants my happy patches of sunlight. <br /> <br />A mountain brook stumbles over boulders great, <br />It babbles, tinkles and breaks the silence dead. <br />The life is flowing along the channels of the Fate <br />From its unknown source to its determined end.<br /><br />Nikita Yurievich Lubennikov<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/haruki-murakami-a-wild-sheep-chase/
