Fuji And The Poet

by. Dr. Daisaku Ikeda

There was a poet, a poet who sang

Of this mountain’s unmatched harmony and splendor

Forgive me, Fuji

Tonight as I look up at you

I find myself weeping, without reason.

There was a poet who focused the light of his seasoned skill

on this ultimate of the Earth’s forms, and wept.

A day without wind.

In the dear and dreamlike emptiness of the sky,

a cloud is born to long after Fuji

A poet who loved Fuji through the cycles of great art that burned in the depths in his life.

Bokusui elevated himself to converse with Fuji

and solemnly sing its infinite melodies

Fuji under clear skies.

Shining Fuji.

Snow-clad Fuji.

Towering Fuji

Fuji’s crisp outline against the winter sky.

Fuji under rain clouds.

Rough-skinned Fuji

White-robed Fuji

Fuji at day break.

Cloud-crapped Fuji.

Fuji in the bright light of dawn.

Fuji tonight.

Fuji under leaden skies.

Expansive Fuji.

Fuji in the white garb of spring.

Fuji exposed in autumn.

High in the skies he sings his praise

for this mountain of goodness, justice and philosophy.