Near Kamakura

Hills and the sea that encircle the city
In steeps of black pines bowed by the sweep
Of the black stream and the blow of the ocean.

Make way with a candle in shade
To a deep-carven grave of the dark gods,
To pray in a day without wake.

Night of the moon of unbroken bamboo
Pours light on the cedar of hills unhewn
Since the dream of the true and the pure.