'The hawk, in order to fly high without fearing height, threw away its eyes from the sky. The eyes rode the wind and fell to the ground. At a certain watering place, I found the shining eyes of the hawk that had drifted there.' What one sees having become only eyes that have left the body: a formless mist that has no means of conveying anything to anyone, simply pushed on toward the lower reaches of time. What the drifted eyes of the hawk had seen was this kind of thing, and was also something else. Yu Shiozaki