VOSHN 392

<body><a href="../index.html">HOME</a><br><table summary="369"><tr><td class="etesti">369</td><td class="edate">Opinion</td><td class="eage">34 years old at that time</td></tr><tr><td class="ei_midasi" colspan=3>Two children of mine burned to death in flames.</td></tr></table><table summary="haikei"><tr><td class="bg" background="../../photo/img204.jpg"><div class="large"><p>My daughter 4 years old and my son 12 years old cried for my help in flames.  Though I heard their cry, I could not help them.  The flames spread during they were crushed under collapsed a house, they were burned to death.  Though from that time 25 years have passed, I tell you now, I feel as if this were present event.</p><br><p>  The annversary of the atomic bomb</p><p>  the voice of a child calling his mother</p><p>  sounds in my ears even today</p><br><br><p>  I visit the graves of those younger than I</p><p>  Fields of the winter greens</p><p>  by the roadside</p><br><br><p>  Early summer breeze</p><p>  I remain standing</p><p>  in this A-bombed field</p><br><br><p>  Hiroshima's anniversary</p><p>  Sorrow from the question:</p><p>  how many are dead?</p><br><br><p>  The winter sea of Hiroshima</p><p>  is calm</p><p>  I miss those good days.</p><br><br><p>  The tide of autumn</p><p>  is flowing in my reminiscence</p><p>  Atombombed area</p><br><br><p>  I'm able to live on</p><p>  by the grace of haiku</p><p>  Hiroshima's annversary, today</p><br><p>My name is Sumiko.</p></div></td></tr></table></body>