Back to home page
Back to poetry list
of a bamboo flute drifts
melancholic about the long shadow of Mount Fuji.
Fleeting moments, once stolen behind Imperial gates
pink and white cherry-blossom buds burst,
and lovers stood 'neath the soft clouds veiled in secrecy,
the common man toiled without, unknowing of pleasure,
while the secret trees billowed in rare beauty
held captive for privileged eyes only.
beyond the gates,
the transience of the opening buds, like life and death,
come and go in an instant.
For the young soldiers,
"blooms as flowers of death",
who would litter battlefields, give their all for the Emperor,
die in an instant, fall like bloodied petals to the ground,
there is no beauty on these tainted fields,
where twigs of cherry blossom lie alongside the dead.
No more the secrecy,
the death pacts, the suicide missions
with cherry blossom close by,
for the trees have been set
bloom for the common man along open streets
and in sheltered gardens, no longer hidden
behind secret gates for Imperial
or to gird the death-wish within a young soldier.
Rose Frankcombe © September, 2013
Back to top
A tiny mosquito shelters under the Japanese cherry blossom petals. Image: Rose Frankcombe