I
Dragon-fly lighting
On the temple-bell,
Whose soul do you hear
On the Day of the Dead?
The soul of my lover?
Ah me, the plighting
Between two hearts
That were never wed!
Dragon-fly, quickly,
The priest is coming!
Oh, the boom
Of the bitter bell!
Now you are gone
And my tears fall thickly.
How of Heaven
Do the gods make Hell!
II
The s?mi is silent
(Autumn rains!)
The wind-bells tinkle
(How chill it is!)
The quick lights come
On the shoji-panes.
Come, O Baku,
Eater of dreams!
The maple darkens
(Pale grow I!)
The near night shivers
(The temple fades.)
Haunting love
Will not cease to cry!
Come, O Baku,
Eater of dreams!
The wild mists gather
(Ah, my tears!)
The pane-lights vanish
(For some there is rest.)
But for me–
The remembered years!
Come, O Baku,
Eater of dreams!
(Cale Young Rice)
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