Lament on Nara, the Deserted Capital
Yamato's land, that still with pow'r imperial
Our monarchs rule in undivided sway,
Since first the gods came down from realms ethereal
Hath never ceas'd those monarchs to obey.
Wherefore methought that while, in grand succession,
Prince after prince should rule earth's wide domain,
Throughout the myriad age's long procession
From Nara's palace would they choose to reign.
Sweet Nara! still in Mount Mikasa's bowers,
When circling mists proclaimed the pow'r of Spring,
Dark'ning the forest bloomed the cherry-flowers,
Nor ever ceas'd the birds their carolling.
Still, when mid-autumn's frost-touch'd dews were falling,
High on Ikoma's often-burning crest
The lusty stag, for his dear consort calling,
O'er trampled lespedeza thickets press'd.
Never thy hills might tire my gaze, and never
Far from thy dwellings might I wish to roam;
Thy streets, stretch'd out across the plain for ever,
Each house some loyal and sturdy warrior's home.
And so I trusted that, till old and hoary,
The heav'ns and earth should on each other fall,
Nara might sparkle with perennial glory,
And Nara's palace hold the Lord of all.
But Nara, too, must yield, as yield all mortals,
To the great King's inserutable commands:
Her beauty fades; the court deserts her portals,
Like birds of passage seeking other lands.
Here in these streets, where high-born throngs advancing,
And neighing steeds erst made the heav'ns resound,
No step is heard, no chargers more are prancing,
And desolation covers all the ground.
Our monarchs rule in undivided sway,
Since first the gods came down from realms ethereal
Hath never ceas'd those monarchs to obey.
Wherefore methought that while, in grand succession,
Prince after prince should rule earth's wide domain,
Throughout the myriad age's long procession
From Nara's palace would they choose to reign.
Sweet Nara! still in Mount Mikasa's bowers,
When circling mists proclaimed the pow'r of Spring,
Dark'ning the forest bloomed the cherry-flowers,
Nor ever ceas'd the birds their carolling.
Still, when mid-autumn's frost-touch'd dews were falling,
High on Ikoma's often-burning crest
The lusty stag, for his dear consort calling,
O'er trampled lespedeza thickets press'd.
Never thy hills might tire my gaze, and never
Far from thy dwellings might I wish to roam;
Thy streets, stretch'd out across the plain for ever,
Each house some loyal and sturdy warrior's home.
And so I trusted that, till old and hoary,
The heav'ns and earth should on each other fall,
Nara might sparkle with perennial glory,
And Nara's palace hold the Lord of all.
But Nara, too, must yield, as yield all mortals,
To the great King's inserutable commands:
Her beauty fades; the court deserts her portals,
Like birds of passage seeking other lands.
Here in these streets, where high-born throngs advancing,
And neighing steeds erst made the heav'ns resound,
No step is heard, no chargers more are prancing,
And desolation covers all the ground.
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