The Wind In the Pines 2

("Noh" is an ancient Japanese style of 
drama, broadly similar to Elizabethan
tragedy.  "The Wind in the Pines" is
my version of a well-known Noh play.)


2.   The Beach, After Dark 

The coast has drowned in the gloomy night, 
but the moon shines. Two women in white 
come along the shore - Matsukaze, 
with her sister Murasame. 
They seem to float like smoke, in dresses 
with long, wide sleeves, their hair in tresses. 

MATSUKAZE 
The sad waves lap on our feet, 
then slide back. Like hope, they meet 
us running, then dissipate. Once spent, 
they slink off, ashamed, but can't prevent 
falling down to the cold sea. 
This is how it must always be. 

MURASAME 
When the tide relinquishes its assault on land 
and drains away, it is sure to strand 
small pools among the boulders, strewn 
along the beach. And, all too soon, 
the life in these tiny oceans, forlorn, 
will fade, like you and I, before the dawn. 

MATSUKAZE 
The moon can't cast any light through the pine. 
Our lovely sleeves, weighted down with brine, 
will tire us quickly. Crabs without shells, 
we are women who have no lover. Smell 
the sea fog, sister! Like a clammy dress, 
it clings to us, like our loneliness. 

MURASAME 
Salt in everything. In our hair, our skin. 
It sucks out our essence, leaves us thin 
and pale. Our only company, the moon ... 
and she will weaken and flounder, soon 
enough. She stirs the ocean, churning 
chill water, exciting in us a hopeless yearning. 

MATSUKAZE 
I hear the fishermen out on the sea, 
and I want there to be a man for me. 
They call, one to another. Out there. 
I smell smoke stinging the air, 
but no woodsman sees my boxwood comb. 
They cut fresh reeds, not for my home. 

MURASAME 
Look, sister! The moon's in my pail! 
And in yours, too. But there it sails, 
up in the sky, singular, not two. 
These little moons are like me and you, 
illusions that can never truly be, 
two facets of one destiny.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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White Avatar
March 10, 2017 at 12:41 AM
"The moon can't cast any light through the pine. // Our lovely sleeves, weighted down with brine, // will tire us quickly. //" For me this reads as one huge metaphor. Is that the case? I know the word 'pine' has this wonderful double meaning in English, and in this quote that seems so beautifully the case. They are worn down, they grieve and will go under. Michael, this is so beautiful, and how you rhyme... sigh... can I be your apprentice?
Coy Avatar
March 10, 2017 at 5:48 AM
LOL Remember, amigo, you're doing this in your THIRD language. I'm the apprentice here!
Vinson Avatar
March 9, 2017 at 10:07 AM
Beautiful, Michael! A vast pantheon of images. : )
Coy Avatar
March 9, 2017 at 11:26 AM
It's very good of you to say so!
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