CONCERNING A NOBLEMAN
My friend felt pity
On the red battlefield
Where death and dying souls mingled.
The white face
Of a Japanese man on the ground
Held his eyes, like the resolute moon.
The white face,
The body without arms, without legs—
They moved my friend to speak:
"You suffer—
I am sorry for you.
May I help you?"
The wilful face
Rose from the ground,
Blooming into a flower of song:
"No,
I do not suffer—
I am Samurai."
The flower fell;
The petals blew away
Into the spirit of Japan.
[283]
