Phases Fading
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The passing rain is
Drying on the day-glory
Which will die tonight.
~ Shiki
The rain takes little care while dropping on
The blossoms of the vine. The shower falls
Upon the flowers which were born at dawn.
The downpour passes, then in silence calls
The sky to turn back to the color of
The day-star blooms. Those petals wither soon
Themselves despite the heaven up above
Becoming lightest blue. Below, the rune
Of beauty is condemned by evening’s breath.
Before that fate, the drops, evanescent
Rain, have disappeared. They know blue’s death
Before the rise of waning’s own crescent.
Pale blue, and white, and purple know no pain.
They form their view of life, day’s dying reign.