Winter Twilight

One leafless tree upon the dusk's blank page Extends the black shape of the letter Y. As though to stem the sense of desolation Which from that shape flows clearly as a cry, Low in the dark, the evening star's full stop Gold-punctuates the sky. Against that utter stillness, nervously, Like specks of platinum ground sharply fine Thin powder snow falls slowly to set prickles Upon the trembling of the telegraph line. Translated from Japanese by Graeme Wilson

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