One stupid wrinkle on my face would be enough to stun me.
My pride is in my slim fingers of satin skin.
I’ll carefully clean my roseate finger-nails before I’ll land in America.
Our wooden clogs sounded melodious, like a rhythmic prayer unto the sky. Japs fit themselves to play music even with footgear. Every house with a lantern at its entrance looked a shrine cherishing a thousand idols within.
I kneeled to the Konpira god.
I didn’t exactly see how to address him, being ignorant what sort of god he was.
I felt thirsty when I reached home. Before I pulled a bucket from the well, I peeped down into it. The moonbeams were beautifully stealing into the waters.
My tortoise-shell comb from my head dropped into the well.
The waters from far down smiled, heartily congratulating me on going to Amerikey.
25th—I thought all day long how I’ll look in ’Merican dress.