Part 3 — YOUR BEAUTIFUL PASSING

ACROSS my thought has trailed your beautiful passing, As a wild bird ruffles the motionless brink of the water, Moving in gradual path on its mirror of shadow, After him streaking and trembling long ripples of silver.

IS this the world I knew? Beneath the day It glowed with golden heat, with vivid hues— Mountains and sky that merged in melting blues And hazy air that shimmered far away. This world is white beneath a silver sky— White with pale brightness, luminously chill. The moon reigns queen, but faintly shining still The dim stars glimmer on the hilltops high. Here, where long grasses touch across the stream That threads with babbling laugh its narrow way, My face turned upward to pale gleams that stray Through whispering willow boughs ... I dream and dream.