When the white flame in us is gone,
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness, left alone
To crumble in our separate night;
When your swift hair is quiet in death,
And through the lips corruption thrust
Has stilled the labour of my breath --
When we are dust, when we are dust! --
......
Ope not thy lips, thou foolish one,
Nor turn to me thy face;
The blasts of heaven shall strike thee down
Ere I will give thee grace.
Take thou thy shadow from my path,
Nor turn to me and pray;
The wild wild winds thy dirge may sing
Ere I will bid thee stay.
......
I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.
......
Kanzo Makame, the diver, sturdy and small Japanee,
Seeker of pearls and of pearl-shell down in the depths of the sea,
Trudged o'er the bed of the ocean, searching industriously.
Over the pearl-grounds the lugger drifted -- a little white speck:
Joe Nagasaki, the "tender", holding the life-line on deck,
Talked through the rope to the diver, knew when to drift or to check.
Kanzo was king of his lugger, master and diver in one,
Diving wherever it pleased him, taking instructions from none;
......
The hair falling on your forehead
suddenly lifted.
Suddenly something stirred on the ground.
The trees are whispering
in the dark.
Your bare arms will be cold.
Far off
where we can't see,
the moon must be rising.
......
Sunshine was pouring
in the wake of black shadows
Tulips clashed with noon
shining, shining, like full moon
Pink orange hues, like sunset
Midday quite breathless
when wandering wind has gone
from fragrance and fire
It'll return later, too late
......
down in wild jade fields
beams orange sun revelry
scents in laughing wind
birds raise the gold roof
wildflowers trumpet colors
in mint fresh meadows
wide eyed awaking
and all dressed up for soon dance
......
In the village,
darkness sweeps through,
amidst blinding flashes,
and the rumbling of the sky's belly
as the winds blow in,
dust and fog follow.
dark clouds come hurrying with them
the trees sway - this way and that
to the whistling of the breeze,
as open windows and doors shut.
......
here they come again
windblown fugitives of gold
dancing with flowers
sun's shadow dancers
green fluttering leaves darkly
silhouette party
purple birds glide by
dusky beats upon the ground
......
swept to the housetops
on fragrant breezes so fine
petals in the wind
hues flying springtime
when the world has come outside
cherry blossom rain
saffron clouds creeping
in warm sunshine of our days
......