Wednesday, June 16, 2021


(1937)  Tomari ashe base base

In hope of You only, having waited and waited,
Ages come and go; how many I don't know.
Days-dates-moments and who comes long ago
I go on neglecting; about You I don't forget.

Upon the duststorms, reddish-brown, of summer,
Many a bamboo grove, it slumps downhearted.
From the monsoon flood-bursts of rainy season,
Lodgings float away; how many I don't reckon.

Under the soft moonlight of autumn,
Nectar drifts on pollen of night-jasmine.
In my lifetime, love makes me swoon;
I think of not a thing but You.

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