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Yakushima, Japan. When the night is cloudy And mists hang on the hill There are ghoslty footsteps And voices, thin and shrill; Nothing will your looking Show you in the dark If the door is opened, But harken, harken, hark!

These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not out by any brook or river, But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.

These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not out by any brook or river, But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.

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