A White Magic Spell
If voiceless, herons
Would be near non-existence
In this morning’s snow.
~ Chiyo (Englished by Phillip Whidden)
This morning on the snow of mountain, field
And path, no creature stirs, no see-through breeze
Moves here among white leaves. A frozen shield
Commands no motion. Everything at ease
Is how this universe desires to be
If any longings this scene holds. The birds
Are silent and becalmed. Chill’s pilgrims see
No flash of wing. They hear no singing words
From warblers throats so even songs are white
On white, if any songs there be. The air,
If air there be, has silence as its might.
The snow is vacuum, no space to spare.
A mountain like Mount Fuji rises high
And seems to turn to white a wizard’s sky.
~ Phillip Whidden