Funny Tomino spewing glass beads,
Tomino fell to hell alone,
Hell is dark and not overgrown with flowers,
Was it Tomino's brother carrying a whip?
The blotches leave a terrible blush
Whipping and hitting, keep hitting
A path to hell
Are you going to drive her to a dark hell?
For the golden sheep, for the nightingale
I wondered how much he put in a leather pouch
In preparation for a trip to hell
Spring comes, in forests and rivers
Even in the river in the dark hell
The nightingale in the nest, the sheep in the wagon,
There are tears in Tomino's funny eyes
Crying, the nightingale flying into the rain forest
Shouting longing for his little sister
His crying echoes through hell
The flower is red blood in bloom
Surrounding seven mountains and seven rivers in hell
A funny Tomino walks alone
To fetch you to hell
Needles in hell,
piercing into fresh meat,
As a sign of the funny Tomino "
A radio announcer once tried to read this poem aloud on-air. He admitted all was well, but until mid-poetry, he felt his body could not move, he finally did not continue and throw away the poem. But a few days later he had an accident and had to sew as many as seven stitches. Even so, he did not want to think of it as a result of reading Tomino's poetry.
