Since I fell behind due to injury, I have never seen you all again.

My children, you are so carefree, as if you've grown wings and flown beyond reach—it's no wonder, for you've never known a halter in your hearts.

I am old now, stiff in the legs, and no longer fit in. But that does not stop me from missing you.

Only, all I can find are traces of you—faint footprints, and droppings already sprouting grass.

The world has changed beyond my understanding. This loneliness takes me back to when I was young and my owner left without a word, I could only gaze around and walk slowly on.

This island seems to hold only thousands of trees and me. The shadows of trees lead me toward a lonely lake.

If you ever think of me, ask the heron. He should know where I've gone.