out,
Through a flute of reeds
I will blow a song.

Let my song sigh as the breeze through the cryptomerias,
And pause like long flags flapping,
And dart and flutter aloft, like a wind-bewildered crane.

[Illustration]

_Wind and Chrysanthemum_

Chrysanthemums bending
Before the wind.

Chrysanthemums wavering
In the black choked grasses.

The wind frowns at them,
He tears off a green and orange stalk of broken chrysanthemum.

The chrysanthemums spread their flattered heads,
And scurry off before the wind.

_The Endless Pilgrimage_

Storm-birds of autumn
With draggled wings:

Sleet-beaten, wind-tattered, snow-frozen,
Stopping in sheer weariness
Between the gnarled red pine trees
Twisted in doubt and despair;

Whence do you come, pilgrims,
Over what snow fields?
To what southern province
Hidden behind dim peaks, would you go?

"Too long were the telling
Wherefore we set out;
And where we will find rest
Only the Gods may tell."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

_Part III_

_The Clouds_

Although there was no sound in all the house,
I could not forbear listening for the cry of those long white rippling waves
Dragging up their strength to break on the sullen beach of the sky.

_Two Ladies Contrasted_

The harmonies of the robes of this gay lady
Are like chants within a temple sweeping outwards
To the morn.

But I prefer the song of the wind by a stream
Where a shy lily half hides itself in the grasses;
To the night of clouds and stars and wine and passion,
In a palace of tesselated restraint and splendor.

_A Night Festival_

Sparrows and tame magpies chatter
In the porticoes
Lit with many a lantern.

There is idle song,
Scandal over full wine cups,
Sorrow does not matter.

Only beyond the still grey shoji
For the breadth of innumerable countries,
Is the sea with ships asleep
In the blue-black starless night.

_Distant Coasts_

A squall has struck the sea afar off.
You can feel it quiver
Over the paper parasol
With which she shields her face;

In the drawn-together skirts of her robes,
As she turns to meet it.

_On the Banks of the Sumida_

Windy evening of autumn,
By the grey-green swirling r