11.07.2016, 10:10
“Fantôme D’Occident: A Lafcadio Hearn Au Japon:”
The golden Chrysanthemum now blossoms
unrestrained under the vast night skies
In a place of mystery, and in a strange embrace
The growing slender threads catch the light.
The ghost of the moon appears without a sound
Pretending to hide its face with its hands.
--a distant phantom, with a vague complaint
All at once it disappears, fainting away.
It comes from a country where the pure and blond Night
Can never entirely escape the bonds that tie,
Of azure blooms and white magnolias.
The moon gives birth to the trembling stars
Each one a tearful pupil, where like the shadow of Ophelia
In a deep river, they cast their veils
The golden Chrysanthemum now blossoms
unrestrained under the vast night skies
In a place of mystery, and in a strange embrace
The growing slender threads catch the light.
The ghost of the moon appears without a sound
Pretending to hide its face with its hands.
--a distant phantom, with a vague complaint
All at once it disappears, fainting away.
It comes from a country where the pure and blond Night
Can never entirely escape the bonds that tie,
Of azure blooms and white magnolias.
The moon gives birth to the trembling stars
Each one a tearful pupil, where like the shadow of Ophelia
In a deep river, they cast their veils