# Potiphar's Wife and Other Poems/Fuji-Yama

FUJI—YAMA
To the fairest of his friends This her faithful poet sends.
On the top of Fuji-San Now we stand; and half Japan Like a mighty map unrolled Spreads beneath us, green and gold: Southward, pale and bright, the sea Shines, from distant Misaki, Round Atami's broken coast, 'Till the silvery gleam is lost, Mingling with the silvery sky, Far away toward Narumi: Northward, yonder line of blue— Over Mino and Bi-shû— (Say the guides) is Biwa Lake, Forty ri removed, to take ​The stork's road through the azure air. Oh, if I had his painted pair Of wings, I'd fly with them, and lend Those strong plumes to my gentle friend That she might come, without one soil Of dust on her dear feet, or toil Of weary walking, up this steep To gaze on the Pacific deep, Fuji's vast slope—a mountain-world— With, half-way down, the soft clouds curled Around her waist, an obi fair, Scarlet and gold, like what you wear.
The rivers, running far below, Like white threads on a green cloth show; The towns are little purple spots, The villages faint grayish dots; Over the tallest mountains round We gaze, from Fuji's monstrous mound, And see far past them, just as you Spy Mita clear from Azabu. O-Yama to a mole-hill shrinks, Bukôzan, now, one hardly thinks ​As high as Kompira, that hill You climbed, with such good heart and will At Ikao, in the pelting rain: We spy those Ikao ranges plain Beyond Koshiû, and near to view Karuizawa's green tops, too. What sunny hours, what lightsome times We had there, in our walks and climbs! I like the mountains of Japan Best, at your side, O Yoshi San!
Gotemba to Subashiri The road was rough, yet fair to see; Red lilies glittered in the grass, Green waved the rice, as we did pass Nearer to this majestic Hill, Which stately grew, and statelier still In ever-shifting clouded dress As we drew close; its loveliness Most perfect when at sunset-time The mists rolled from its brow sublime And showed—o'erhanging the long street (Busy with many a pilgrim's feet ​And fluttering with ten thousand flags)— Proud Fuji to her topmost crags Steel-blue against a saffron sky— A Queen! A World! A Mystery!
At daybreak, from Subashiri We started forth, with horses three, To thread the woodland path, which leads By groves and streams and shrines and meads, Nigher and higher, 'till we find Umagaeshi, and leave behind Our steeds. Henceforward every ri With sturdy foot must traversed be: And Fuji, lifting rosy red Beyond the pines her peerless head, Seems still as far, as when, last night, We watched her in the sunset's light.
While yet we paced the forest road Where green woods made a garment broad For Fuji's knees, and dappled shade Upon the speckled pumice played, I wished you by, that you might share ​That sweetness of the upland air And glow of the glad sunburst, now Crowning with gold Queen Fuji's brow; But when we came where snow-slips tear The flanks of the red mountain bare, And thence to climb the cone began, 'Mid dykes and crags, O Yoshi San! At each hard step I did rejoice Not to be hearing your soft voice, And not to see your zori tread That rugged way, which still o'erhead Zigzagged the shoulder of the crag, All shifting lava-dust and slag; Almost for men too steep and rough Winds the wild path! We had enough Of breathless, toilsome tramp all day$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ Before our long line made its way To "Station Eight"—Hachi-go-me, Glad was I, 'mid such mist and rain To know you safe in the warm plain.
Clambering from "Station Eight's" black rock We topped the cone at nine o'clock, ​Where this I write, to keep my word, And prove that, wholly undeterred By distance, high up in the sky My thoughts back to my sweet Friend fly Down from the crest of green Japan To chat with you, O Yoshi San!