||Doesn't the author seem almost jesting?
||Well, humor is the salt that helps us digest the horrors of war.
||(pausing, then spitting) To me, war will always have a bitter flavor.
There's an ancient ginkgo tree,
vibrant now with verdant leaves,
near a pile of scattered debris,
created another time in history.
From the rubble of this dust heap,
life triumphs as fresh tendrils rise
in a redolent summer breeze.
Nagasaki: just an ordinary city of medium size?
Or testament that, despite many obstacles,
the human spirit manages to thrive?