Half-blind, the other eye a livid bulb
Lighting the great beak of his gaijin nose
(Even when young, before the Oedipal wound,
'The large alarming eyes of myope') -
And tiny, too, 'mere mite of literature',
Fey Graeco-Irish wanderer in torment
Flinching away from fancied slights and jeers.

His introduction - by-ways of scholarship,
Martinique grammars, Creole dialects,
Mixed with 'artistic labours', Chinese ghosts . . .
His mind inflamed with all things Japanese,
So new, so ancient, fairy-folk who achieve
Delicate miracles on a bowl of rice.
He would live here, record the miracles -
'All the sweet glamours, translucent, milky, soft' -
But needed help, my help: poor amateur,
...