Do you remember Etajima,
And how, upon a moon-fogged sea,
As ghostly as ever a tide shall be,
We passed an island silently?
And how a low voice in the gloom
Of the temple pine-trees leaning there
Said sayonara to one somewhere
Unseen in the shadow-haunted air?
Just sayonara: but it seemed
The soul of all farewells that night,
The sigh of all withdrawn delight,
The sound of love's last rapture-rite.
And now, after long years, it comes
Again from isles of memory
To bring once more to birth in me
The breath of all lost witchery.
Yes, one low word of parting, now
Echoing, thro the fog of years,
Has touched my heart with beauty's tears,
And youth thro all things reappears.