  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! And my tears fall thickly. How of Heaven Do the gods make Hell! II The sÊmi 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! |
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