Part 1 — A Picnic Under the Cherry Trees
Reading edition
The boat drifts to rest Under the outward spraying branches. There is faint sound of quavering strings, The reedy murmurs of a flute, The soft sigh of the wind through silken garments; All these are mingled With the breeze that drifts away, Filled with thin petals of cherry blossom, Like tinkling laughter dancing away in sunlight.