Feeling myself tied to
some deep wonder,
I tie several strings,
fasten the obi tightly and look in the full-length mirror.

Feeling myself tied
with some bewildering bond,
I fold many times over the psychological folds of womanhood
which is linked to motherhood.

I wrap my cold and burning body
with infinite tenderness and warmth,
while the man-woman relationship and four-season cycle
have passed over the unchanging woman’s pleasure –

and I found myself on that day in the fragrance of spring
when he embraced me in my long-sleeved kimono
showing yellow daffodils along a running stream.
He gently praised my twenty-year-old petals.