قراءة كتاب Collected Poems: Volume One
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 5
scents are strewn astray
Till night be sweet enow,
Then lovers wander whispering low
As lovers only can,
Where rosy paper lanterns glow
Thro' streets of old Japan.
From Wonderland to Yea-or-Nay
The junks of Weal-and-Woe
Dream on the purple water-way
Nor ever meet a foe;
Though still, with stiff mustachio
And crookéd ataghan,
Their pirates guard with pomp and show
The ships of old Japan.
The junks of Weal-and-Woe
Dream on the purple water-way
Nor ever meet a foe;
Though still, with stiff mustachio
And crookéd ataghan,
Their pirates guard with pomp and show
The ships of old Japan.
That land is very far away,
We lost it long ago!
No fairies ride the cherry spray,
No witches mop and mow,
The violet wells have ceased to flow;
And O, how faint and wan
The dawn on Fusiyama's snow,
The peak of old Japan.
We lost it long ago!
No fairies ride the cherry spray,
No witches mop and mow,
The violet wells have ceased to flow;
And O, how faint and wan
The dawn on Fusiyama's snow,
The peak of old Japan.
Half smilingly, our hearts delay,
Half mournfully forego
The blue fantastic twisted day
When faithful Konojo,
For small white Lily Hasu-ko
Knelt in the Butsudan,
And her tomb opened to bestrow
Lilies thro' old Japan.
Half mournfully forego
The blue fantastic twisted day
When faithful Konojo,
For small white Lily Hasu-ko
Knelt in the Butsudan,
And her tomb opened to bestrow
Lilies thro' old Japan.
There was a game they used to play
I' the San-ju-san-jen Dō,
They filled a little lacquer tray
With powders in a row,
Dry dust of flowers from Tashiro
To Mount Daimugenzan,
Dry little heaps of dust, but O
They breathed of old Japan.
I' the San-ju-san-jen Dō,
They filled a little lacquer tray
With powders in a row,
Dry dust of flowers from Tashiro
To Mount Daimugenzan,
Dry little heaps of dust, but O
They breathed of old Japan.
Then knights in blue and gold array
Would on their thumbs bestow
A pinch from every heap and say,
With many a hum and ho, What blossoms, nodding to and fro
For joy of maid or man,
Conceived the scents that puzzled so
The brains of old Japan.
Would on their thumbs bestow
A pinch from every heap and say,
With many a hum and ho, What blossoms, nodding to and fro
For joy of maid or man,
Conceived the scents that puzzled so
The brains of old Japan.
The hundred ghosts have ceased to affray
The dust of Kyotó,
Ah yet, what phantom blooms a-sway
Murmur, a-loft, a-low,
In dells no scythe of death can mow,
No power of reason scan,
O, what Samúrai singers know
The Flower of old Japan?
The dust of Kyotó,
Ah yet, what phantom blooms a-sway
Murmur, a-loft, a-low,
In dells no scythe of death can mow,
No power of reason scan,
O, what Samúrai singers know
The Flower of old Japan?
Dry dust of blossoms, dim and gray,
Lost on the wind? Ah, no,
Hark, from yon clump of English may,
A cherub's mocking crow,
A sudden twang, a sweet, swift throe,
As Daisy trips by Dan,
And careless Cupid drops his bow
And laughs—from old Japan.
Lost on the wind? Ah, no,
Hark, from yon clump of English may,
A cherub's mocking crow,
A sudden twang, a sweet, swift throe,
As Daisy trips by Dan,
And careless Cupid drops his bow
And laughs—from old Japan.
There, in the dim blue death of day
Where white tea-roses grow,
Petals and scents are strewn astray
Till night be sweet enow,
Then lovers wander, whispering low,
As lovers only can,
Where rosy paper lanterns glow
Thro' streets of old Japan.
Where white tea-roses grow,
Petals and scents are strewn astray
Till night be sweet enow,
Then lovers wander, whispering low,
As lovers only can,
Where rosy paper lanterns glow
Thro' streets of old Japan.
THE SYMBOLIST
Help me to seek that unknown land!
I kneel before the shrine.
Help me to feel the hidden hand
That ever holdeth mine.
I kneel before the shrine.
Help me to feel the hidden hand
That ever holdeth mine.
I kneel before the Word, I kneel
Before the Cross of flame
I cry, as thro' the gloom I steal,
The glory of the Name.
Before the Cross of flame
I cry, as thro' the gloom I steal,
The glory of the Name.
Help me to mourn, and I shall love;
What grief is like to mine?
Crown me with thorn, the stars above
Shall in the circlet shine!
What grief is like to mine?
Crown me with thorn, the stars above
Shall in the circlet shine!
The Temple opens wide: none sees
The love, the dream, the light!
O, blind and finite, are not these
Blinding and infinite?
The love, the dream, the light!
O, blind and finite, are not these
Blinding and infinite?
The veil, the veil is rent: the skies
Are white with wings of fire,
Where victim souls triumphant rise
In torment of desire.
Are white with wings of fire,
Where victim souls triumphant rise
In torment of desire.
Help me to seek: I would not find,
For when I find I know
I shall have clasped the hollow wind
And built a house of snow.
For when I find I know
I shall have clasped the hollow wind
And built a house of snow.
HAUNTED IN OLD JAPAN
Music of the star-shine shimmering o'er the sea
Mirror me no longer in the dusk of memory:
Dim and white the rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!
Mirror me no longer in the dusk of memory:
Dim and white the rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!
All along the purple creek, lit with silver foam,
Silent, silent voices, cry no more of home!
Soft beyond the cherry-trees, o'er the dim lagoon,
Dawns the crimson lantern of the large low moon.
Silent, silent voices, cry no more of home!
Soft beyond the cherry-trees, o'er the dim lagoon,
Dawns the crimson lantern of the large low moon.
We that loved in April, we that turned away
Laughing ere the wood-dove crooned across the May,
Watch the withered rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!
Laughing ere the wood-dove crooned across the May,
Watch the withered rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!
We the Sons of Reason, we that chose to bride
Knowledge, and rejected the Dream that we denied,
We that chose the Wisdom that triumphs for an hour,
We that let the young love perish like a flower....
Knowledge, and rejected the Dream that we denied,
We that chose the Wisdom that triumphs for an hour,
We that let the young love perish like a flower....
We that hurt the kind heart, we that went astray,
We that in the darkness idly dreamed of day....
... Ah! The dreary rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!
We that in the darkness idly dreamed of day....
... Ah! The dreary rose-leaves drift along the shore.
Wind among the roses, blow no more!
Lonely starry faces, wonderful and white,
Yearning with a cry across the dim sweet night,
All our
Yearning with a cry across the dim sweet night,
All our