Great Sawara, the painter,
Sought, on a day of days,
One of the peacock islands
Out in the sunset haze
Rose-red sails on the water
Carried him quickly nigh:
There would he paint him a wonder,
Worthy of Hokusai.

Lo, as he leapt o'er the creaming
Roses of faery foam,
Out of the green-lipped caverns
Under the isle's blue dome,
White as a drifting snow-flake,
White as the moon's white flame,
White as a ghost from the darkness.
Little O Kimi came.

"Long I have waited, Sawara,
Here in our sunset isle,
Sawara, Sawara, Sawara,
Look on me once, and smile;
Face I have watched so long for,
Hands I have longed'to hold,
Sawara, Sawara, Sawara
Why is your heart so cold ?"

Small and terribly drifting
Backward, her sad  white face
Lifted up to Sawara
Once, in that lonely   place,
White as a drifting blossom
Under his wondering eyes,
Slowly he gathered and held her
Under the drifting skies.

" Others are happy," she whispered, 
"Maidens and men I have seen :
Be happy, be happy, Sawara !
The other — shall be — your queen !
Kiss me one kiss for parting": 
Trembling she lifted her head,
Then like a broken blossom
It fell on his arm. She was dead.