Susumu Katsumata

Life in this village is like that of a louse hanging on to a wrinkle in a loincloth.

I wish I could see a cherry blossom or a lotus flower. Where could they be?

Your daughter's coming of age, you ought to let her see the world a little.

Young Bride had a scratch on her neck from the knife, but no other external injuries. It seemed she was killed by the shock the drunks gave her.After sixty-odd years, reliving the trauma of that fateful night was too much to bear.There was no funeral procession. She was buried on the unlucky hill on the outskirts of the village.The crickets, however, remained around her shack and continued to sing until the first snow fell.