I tried to look up Harada, and could not find a definition; I am not sure I understand the title.
But I can understand the muse;
" I retrench under scrutiny -
And migrations of wolves.
Dead tongues speak
And old trees wither
Yet I am alive -
I retrace my lines in the mirror."
The mood of despair leers here, and we all have seen its' ugly face. We have no choice but to go on living, even when at times life denies us even the basic pleasures and feelings that make it worthwhile....
It sometimes takes from us and fails to give back..
and we struggle on, as if taking a meal without savor...