In the blossom-land Japan
Somewhere, thus an old song ran:Said a warrior to a smith,
"Hammer me a sword forthwith.
Make the blade
Light as wind on water laid;
Make it long
As wheat at harvest song,
As a snake, without rift,
Full of lightnings, thousand-eyed!
Smooth as silken cloth & thin
As the web that spiders spin,
And merciless as pain & cold."
"On the hilt what shall be told?"
"On the sword's hilt, my good man,"
Said the warrior of Japan,
"Trace for me
A running lake, a flock of sheep,
And one who sings her child to sleep."Yehoash (Solomon Bloomgarden)