[03:37.00]Beneath the plum tree’s fading bloom
[03:37.00]He walked alone through springtime gloom
[03:37.00]A silent blade, a heart of flame
[03:37.00]Yet never once he sought acclaim
[03:37.00]The cherry petals knew his name
[03:37.00]But whispered soft, not loud with fame
[03:37.00]A shadow passing through the pine
[03:37.00]No honor claimed, no grand design
[03:37.00]No one like him — so still, so true
[03:37.00]With eyes like dusk, and morning dew
[03:37.00]He bore the world but asked for none
[03:37.00]Then vanished with the setting sun
[03:37.00]A teacup cracked, a candle dim
[03:37.00]Yet still I wait, remembering him
[03:37.00]His voice, a stream, so calm, so clear
[03:37.00]Now only echoes greet me here
[03:37.00]No one like him — so still, so true
[03:37.00]With eyes like dusk, and morning dew
[03:37.00]He bore the world but asked for none
[03:37.00]Then vanished with the setting sun
[03:37.00]And though the years may drift away
[03:37.00]The mountain wind still speaks his name
[03:37.00]In falling leaves, in snow’s first hymn
[03:37.00]There is — no one like him