[undated]

(The program-brochure revealing in English that,
"according to tradition, the thud-slap of bodies is an
echo which reaches us, lapping, from the Pure-Land")

Lovely,
the wrestler's head,
oil-glazed, hair pulled back
to the intricate knot.

He crouches, shameless,
in the ring and is still,
drawing the breath, I think,
of the pleasure-seekers
into him.

Soundless,
flesh forgotten, he coils
to absorb the fullness
of the
Pure Land...

(And you, Nomura,
in your morning kimono,
the name of our daughter
half-called as she strolls
the thistle-lined path...)

The force of the meeting astounds the visitors.