March 21, 2011

Spring

O city of trees! we'll not forget your pain!
It will be beyond difficult to stand fast:
But the cherry trees will blossom once again.

Though they bloom in a world become inhumane --
All of us stared at those images aghast --
O city of trees! we'll not forget your pain!

This stillborn spring forgotten, so many slain,
Lost, torn loose from the earth: who could have held fast?
But the cherry trees will blossom once again.

Though the sea carve out in blood its cold terrain,
Yet we'll hang the paper lanterns at long last:
O city of trees! we'll not forget your pain!

This winter is slow to relinquish its domain.
My forty-nine days will never come to pass:
But the cherry trees will blossom once again.

Though seven days times seven days have passed,
And were each day a year of time amassed:

O city of trees! we'll not forget your pain!
But the cherry trees will blossom once again.

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