Sound of waves


Shadow of waves under the sky with stars.


Sound of waves along the shore with melodies.


Eternal life plays the music, plays for nobody else,

plays the song of fate.


                                                                          2013. 7. 24.       Yoshihiro Inoue 


A silent, stone-cold Christmas in jail.

Each time I recall my thoughtless childhood,                                             
In heaps my sins strike me.

 I wake to the radiant stars of Christmas eve,

Looking up, trembling in cold concrete

 Now stepping far away in time,

A ring will come, dear to all 

 I feel the loving bell, a soft tinkle away.


                             2012. 12. 25    Yoshihiro

"Fallen leaves  "

 Through autumn mountains  wheels the fallen leaves,  drifting softly on the ground  that nurtures new life.

They whisper in silence  impart life into forms,  and wither in meditative sin.

                                                                                  2012. 10. 17  Yoshihiro 

"Flowers of the Autumn Equinox"

Flowers of the autumn equinox  Bloom in a nameless field

Crimson petals bright against blue sky

Speak to compassion for the dead.

Oh flowers of the autumn,  Please cure sorrows.

May teardrops blossom those back to life.

                                                   2012. 9. 24 Yoshihiro

  Innocent love

        In the mute autumn night      The prison resounds with cricketsf songs

Those delicate tones, piece by piece,

Fragile and extreme, so beautiful.

The living creatures in ecstasy of innocent love

 Flourish in darkness,   singing rin rin rin ri-n rin rin

  Never free from sadness to live,      Let us survive the depths of despair.

                                                                                                                       2012. 9. 10  Yoshihiro

Shower of Cicadas

 A shower of Cicada's crying at mid-summer-

the melody of delicate life,

transient and passionote love songs.

When I bend my ears to the music

 The pain of sin bitterly surges     Having cut others' life.

Alas, cicadas! Forgive me.

  Please heal my great sorrow for others.   

                                                                                                                               2012. 8. 21  Yoshihiro

  Prayer for Life

Fire-rings blossom in the night

Dimly reflecting on the window of a jail. 

I remember the days of summer in my hometown

Regretting the gravity of sin.

The more submerged in the dark of no exit,

The more I sense someone        watching our life,  Lighting all the sorrow of sin in silence.

                                                                                                              2012. 8. 8    Yoshihiro 




In a rice field of a distant hometown,  A frog starts to sing at the first appearance of farming  With rain falling unforeseen,  The singing and sounds of the frog, rain, and sky  come together, like companions.


As I grew older the frogfs cries become white noise  Sounds of little creatures clutter my closed mind.  In my despair at the world without hope  I tossed an answer at lifefs purpose,  like a question on a school test,  and joined gAum Shinrikyoh in their glast battle for salvationh  mentioned in the Bible.


Donft question! Donft think! No salvation for me and my afflictions.  In blank stupor, I did what I was told  Away from home, ensnared in dogma  I strayed a path where I feared my own footsteps


Intoxicated in rituals, whatever they gave I did  Only in jail did my senses came back, piece by piece.  And what I saw was a sea of suffering, of cutting otherfs life  However terrified I am of what was done,  Therefs no cure for the hearts of those victims,  that unceasing pang of helplessness.


The curtain of Autumn rises  The crickets start to sing,  Their songs resounding in my foolish mind.  Downpour of rain dims in the cries from the dark  Lonely lives vanish in the law of nature  Just a gaze makes tears fall like the rain


My parents, my high school teacher,  And other caring hands wish me to live and atone my past  Taking the cultfs crimes as my own sin  With regret, I live with the suffering of those victims


Now, I wonder whose child is the frog from the fields?  With insight mother said: gItfs a pure monk from a true Dharmah  And it cries ? gNamo Amitabhah  But alas, weighed by my sins  I only have one road.  Never could I be with the frog,   Palms joined and praying gNamo Amitabhah.


Gratitude cannot cure the soul of a sinner  (Buddhafs and Bodhisattvafs dedicate their being to save all)  Please answer,  There seems no saving for evil sins  The frog keeps crying deep from that dark abyss  Knowing how suffering and life interlink.  By invoking the Buddhafs, may a rain of compassion fall into the heart  Of a hopeless man beyond saving.

2012. 1. 13    Yoshihiro


Moonlight Prison

In the clear cold night, the white winter moon shines,   Rising slowly through a crack of the prison window,   Like rays diffusing the dark ocean floor   Its boundless warmth brightens the black painted sky   Pervading all, unwavering and unceasing,   Yet it casts a shadow against the wall -   the haunts of sin, not forgiving, not forgetting,   Against sons and daughters of kin and kind, those precious bonds,   Those cherished ties of care and hope,   Those untold lives and nurtured dreams -

all seized and severed by me.

This irreversible, unutterable, ghastly stain   I cling to the day it fades from me   Gasping pain gnashes my heart   Wordless, helpless in this dark of death   My heart speeds upc   To beat itself from memory.   I look at the skyc   What's to be done?   Nothing.

Nothing to redeem the crime, to ease the pain,   those incessant pangs that puncture and grindc   Unending anguish of that ceaseless pastc   Cries that mute the prison siren   The shrieks of sin, whirls of hell   I flounder, plunged into the thrashing sea

Each man is blessed at times of birth   Dim and blind in ignorance, I sinned   This unbearable torrent of human weakness

Yet a criminal's eyes is just that of any man   The dawning sun paints the Western Buddha Field   and beams impartially into this prison,   into the flowers, the table, and me as well.   Oh, my mind keeps wandering back in darkness!   Even then, will the light remain?

Like thiscbeyond waiting for hopec   The winter moon radiatesc   c to dispel the dark and stains of sin c

Let it brighten this lonesome path!

2012. 1. 5    Yoshihiro@hnoue