Japanese Death Poem
Autumn wind of eve
Blow away the clouds that mass
O'er the moon's pure light.
And the mists that cloud our mind
Do thou sweep away as well.
Now we disappear
Well, what must we think of it?
From the sky we came
Now we may go back again
That's at least one point of view.
Hôjô Ujimasa (1538-1590)
