Friday, 16 May 2008
CHORUS: Indeed, "Are we to call them clouded?
These waters which were for so many years
A mirror for the flowers
That now lay scattered there?"
And even we who know so well
That flowers fall and turn to dust
We too are nothing but dreams, fleeting
Like the flowers that we would pity so,
Like the flowers in that old poem, that
"Fall aimlessly from the branch
And turn to pitiful foam
On the water's surface"
We, ignorant of our own fate
Relish the sight of white waves of flowers,
Envious of the myriad birds at play among the blossoms
As if their fate weren't also fleeting.
Moved by the mists
And saddened by the dew
Such are our hearts.
all excerpts from Sakuragawa (The Cherry Blossoms River), a Noh play by Zeami
translation by Keith Vincent