Sayonara, a Japanese romance

I saw thee first when cherries bloomed,
the petals o'er thee falling;
I heard across the flower'd stream
thy soul to my soul calling.

So fair the blooms like tinted snow
beneath the sunset lying;
they flutter'd like the butterflies,
when o'er the rapeseed flying,
when lightly, gaily flying.

And, love: we too kept holiday,
so long ago it seems,
ah, love, we too kept holiday,
so long ago it seems.

At the feast of the dead I watched thee
with the maidens in the Dance of Souls.
'T was there I watch'd thee
with maidens dancing.

The festal lights glimmer'd thro' the soft night
like floating fireflies.
Soft, slow was the dance,
soft, slow, gliding under the great moon.

Oh, my beloved, thou art like a bird,
like a bright bird, a bird with dancing wings, flying low.
And thy voice held all sweetness of all birds;
then, too, was holiday. But now?

All my heart is ashes,
all the joy of love has died with the maple fires.
Lo, the Gods heard not my pray'r!
Lo, my vows may not be thine!
In my sleeve my grief I hide.
Ah, my tears, like the rain.
Lo, my sleeve shall never dry!

The wild dove cries on fleeting wing,
the bough forsaking;
we dream'd a dream of love and spring,
and dreams have waking.
There will remain no bird to sing,
no young bloom on the branch will cling,
tho' hearts be breaking!
O Love, it is a dream of spring;
alas, it was a dream of love and spring,
and dreams have waking!
Sayonara!