Ama (at length). Down to the sea! the sea!
Oh the dead!
Do they not seem
On the night air to hover?
There by the lights
Are not their spirits present?
The lights lit for them?
[O-Umè is silent.
All our ancestors are they!
Fathers and mothers
Of many lives back!
They hear us speaking,
They hear from the Buddha-shrine
There on the wall.
They see us thinking.
[Meaningly.
They see in our hearts!
O-Umè (who trembles). Be silent! silent!
Ama (bowing but continuing). They know if we care for them—
Know as the wind
That visits all shoji,
Know as the night
That searches all places.
Alas for the son
Who does not honor them!
And for the daughter
Who does not cherish them!
They shall——
O-Umè.Be silent!
[A pause.
Ama. Alas for the daughter!
O-Umè (who rises disturbedly).
The lips of the old
Are like leaves dying—
Leaves of Autumn
That ever flutter!
[Walks about.
Ama. And a girl's mind
Is like the dawn mist—
Knowing not whither
To rest or wander—
Until, perchance,
It clings to Fuji,
To Fuji mountain,
Lord of the air!
The mind of a girl ... straying!
And what is O-Umè's?... whose?
O-Umè. It is O-Umè's!
Ama. Ai!
Not Sanko's!...
But were I she,
O-Umè the fair,
O-Umè the mist
Of happy karmas,
Sanko should be
My Fuji mountain.
Him would I cling to,
Nor would I hunger
To stray far from him
With a white priest!
To stray far from him
To foreign gods
That hang on a cross.