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Blue-faced On a cold winter's night, Black lace and sorrow: We will be there soon enough. Harsh winds Sweep my frozen breath high Upwards in homage To the death-pale moon. Sole pine Mounted on distant ridge Stares, lonely sentry, Over empty plains of ice. Snow-geese Wind's invisible bridge Cross east to west and Rest by pine-tree's frame. Pearl tears Glimmer far overhead Where there are partings In the clouds which hang in wait, Thick, white, With sharp crystals they shed Faint light like needles On our caravan. Gaze back At the white dragon's peak, In mountain meadows Will I never play again. Stone spire Only to the clouds speaks Cult's higher secrets From its temple gates. No more of paper kites or bamboo flutes, Of lotus blossoming in springtime's youth: Blow out the stars And quench the night, This emptiness is Life How little we see of it! Travelling far To reach Kushiro Before the seventh moon, Our first and our final tryst. Wolves prowl On horizons forlorn; Wise owls, we hurry, Pulses pounding, race towards Unknown Destination at dawn, Unseen attendant Masked in stranger's face. Winds bite, Winter's journey bids haste; Solace tomorrow For a moment by the hearth. Heart's fire Warms the soul in these wastes, Leaden the footsteps Yet our spirits fly. No more of paper kites or bamboo flutes, Of lotus blossoming in springtime's youth: Blow out the stars And greet the night, This emptiness is Life Whatever we make of it. Travelling far Beyond Kushiro, To heavens where the dew Floats sunward, eternal mist. Travelling far, So far to reach Kushiro. |
(1981) |
composite by Stephen Alsford based on a painting attributed to Kaida Sukeyasu, ca.1500, with added detail from "Maple viewers" by Kano Hideyori, 16th century |
Created: November 17, 2014. | © Stephen Alsford |