It seems to be a work left behind by an unknown poet from the earliest ages of ancient Benzaitengoku, when poetry had not yet vanished. This should be the opening scroll of one of those works.

Rabbits hover among the stars,
but they never stop at the same spot.
Back then, the rabbits were still carnivores,
who hunted bison on the coasts of the sea of stars.
Back then, the rabbits didn't care for the moon,
since they relied on changing stars to navigate.

As the blazing rain washed over the whale's bones,
on the ancient body grew a towering tree.
Through such a tree the rabbits passed,
travelling in a hurry, never looked up.

No one knows if in the distant past,
the rabbits had eaten the moon in the sky.
They neither laugh nor care about sorrow,
as they are just seasonal winds chasing the cosmos.
And through the season of falling flowers,
they slip past in a blink.

When will the omnipotent moon appear,
The rabbit returning home gazes skyward in wonder.
A false planet holds dominion over a game of reality,
Within harmless rules,
A beast that devours everything crawls in the shadows.

Newspaper is nowhere to be found,
Magazines are long out of print.
Clubs shuttered and closed,
Radio stations goes bankrupt and gone.
What on earth happened here?
The rabbit asks the imagenated machine.

A monkey invented the phone,
The imagenated machine spoke in measured tone, unhurried and serene.
A fox refined the phone into a trendy gadget,
While a frog went forth to market it far and wide.
And then, all animals needed were their fingers and eyes,
Even their mouths and ears had become redundant.

Animals turned themselves into hungry artists,
The imagenated machine offers neither mockery nor pity.
They kept ordering food on their phones,
Yet never found a meal to their satisfaction.
And so they tossed away delivery after delivery,
Starving bellies rumbling as their eyes and fingers moving in sync.