FOOTNOTES:
[132] Such frantic demonstrations of grief are very frequently mentioned in the early poetry, and sound strangely to those who are accustomed to the more than English reserve of the modern Japanese. Possibly, as in Europe, so in Japan, there may have been a real change of character in this respect.
[133] The Mikado is meant. The feudal system did not grow up till many centuries later.
[134] The N-á-h-i are sounded like our English word nigh, and therefore form but one syllable to the ear.
[135] Anciently (and this custom is still followed in some parts of Japan) the hair of female children was cut short at the neck and allowed to hang down loosely till the age of eight. At twelve or thirteen the hair was generally bound up, though this ceremony was often frequently postponed till marriage. At the present day, the methods of doing the hair of female children, of grown-up girls, and of married women vary considerably.
[136] The original of this stanza is obscure, and the native commentators have no satisfactory interpretation to offer.
[137] In the original the title is "The Beggar's Dialogue," there being two poems, of which that here translated is the second. The first one, which is put into the mouth of an unmarried beggar, who takes a cheerier view of poverty, is not so well fitted for translation into English.
[138] Because, according to the Buddhist doctrine of perpetually recurring births, it is at any given time more probable that the individual will come into the world in the shape of one of the lower animals.
[139] A literal translation of the Japanese idiom.
[140] The Japanese commentators are puzzled over the meaning of the passage "with skirt uplifted, drew near and fondled me." To the European mind there seems to be nothing obscure in it. The mother probably lifted her skirt to wipe her eyes, when she was crying. It is evidently a figurative way of saying that the mother was crying.
LOVE SONGS
ON BEHOLDING THE MOUNTAIN
Composed by the commander of the forces of the Mikado Zhiyomei
The long spring day is o'er, and dark despond
My heart invades, and lets the tears flow down,
As all alone I stand, when from beyond
The mount our heav'n-sent monarch's throne doth crown.
There breathes the twilight wind and turns my sleeve.
Ah, gentle breeze! to turn, home to return,
Is all my prayer; I cannot cease to grieve
On this long toilsome road; I burn, I burn!
Yes! the poor heart I used to think so brave
Is all afire, though none the flame may see,
Like to the salt-kilns there by Tsunu's wave,
Where toil the fisher-maidens wearily.
Anon.
LOVE IS PAIN
'Twas said of old, and still the ages say,
"The lover's path is full of doubt and woe."
Of me they spake: I know not, nor can know,
If she I sigh for will my love repay.
My heart sinks on my breast; with bitter strife
My heart is torn, and grief she cannot see.
All unavailing is this agony
To help the love that has become my life.
Anon.
HITOMARO TO HIS MISTRESS
Tsunu's shore, Ihámi's brine,
To all other eyes but mine
Seem, perchance, a lifeless mere,
And sands that ne'er the sailor cheer.
Ah, well-a-day! no ports we boast,
And dead the sea that bathes our coast;
But yet I trow the wingèd breeze
Sweeping at morn across our seas,
And the waves at eventide
From the depths of ocean wide,
Onward to Watadzu bear
The deep-green seaweed, rich and fair;
And like that seaweed gently swaying,
Wingèd breeze and waves obeying,
So thy heart hath swayed and bent
And crowned my love with thy content.
But, dear heart! I must away,
As fades the dew when shines the day;
Nor aught my backward looks avail,
Myriad times cast down the vale,
From each turn the winding road
Takes upward; for thy dear abode
Farther and still farther lies,
And hills on hills between us rise.
Ah! bend ye down, ye cruel peaks,
That the gate my fancy seeks,
Where sits my pensive love alone,
To mine eyes again be shown!
Hitomaro.
NO TIDINGS
The year has come, the year has gone again,
And still no tidings of mine absent love!
Through the long days of spring all heaven above
And earth beneath, re-echo with my pain.
In dark cocoon my mother's silk-worms dwell;
Like them, a captive, through the livelong day
Alone I sit and sigh my soul away,
For ne'er to any I my love may tell.
Like to the pine-trees I must stand and pine,[141]
While downward slanting fall the shades of night,
Till my long sleeve of purest snowy white,
With showers of tears, is steeped in bitter brine.
Anon.
HOMEWARD
From Kaminábi's crest
The clouds descending pour in sheeted rain,
And, 'midst the gloom, the wind sighs o'er the plain:—
Oh! he that sadly press'd,
Leaving my loving side, alone to roam
Magami's des'late moor, has he reached home?
Anon.
THE MAIDEN AND THE DOG
As the bold huntsman on some mountain path
Waits for the stag he hopes may pass that way,
So wait I for my love both night and day:—
Then bark not at him, as thou fearest my wrath.
Anon.
LOVE IS ALL
Where in spring the sweetest flowers
Fill Mount Kaminábi's bowers,
Where in autumn dyed with red,
Each ancient maple rears its head,
And Aska's flood, with sedges lin'd,
As a belt the mound doth bind:—
There see my heart—a reed that sways,
Nor aught but love's swift stream obeys,
And now, if like the dew, dear maid,
Life must fade, then let it fade:—
My secret love is not in vain,
For thou lov'st me back again.
HUSBAND AND WIFE
Wife.—
Though other women's husbands ride
Along the road in proud array,
My husband, up the rough hill-side,
On foot must wend his weary way.
The grievous sight with bitter pain
My bosom fills, and many a tear
Steals down my cheek, and I would fain
Do aught to help my husband dear.
Come! take the mirror and the veil,
My mother's parting gifts to me;
In barter they must sure avail
To buy an horse to carry thee!
Husband.—
And I should purchase me an horse,
Must not my wife still sadly walk?
No, no! though stony is our course,
We'll trudge along and sweetly talk.
Anon.
HE COMES NOT
He comes not! 'tis in vain I wait;
The crane's wild cry strikes on mine ear,
The tempest howls, the hour is late,
Dark is the raven night and drear:—
And, as I thus stand sighing,
The snowflakes round me flying
Light on my sleeve, and freeze it crisp and clear.
Sure 'tis too late! he cannot come;
Yet trust I still that we may meet,
As sailors gayly rowing home
Trust in their ship so safe and fleet.
Though waking hours conceal him,
Oh! may my dreams reveal him,
Filling the long, long night with converse sweet!
Anon.
HE AND SHE
He.—To Hatsúse's vale I'm come,
To woo thee, darling, in thy home;
But the rain rains down apace,
And the snow veils ev'ry place,
And now the pheasant 'gins to cry,
And the cock crows to the sky:—
Now flees the night, the night hath fled,
Let me in to share thy bed!
She.—To Hatsúse's vale thou'rt come,
To woo me, darling, in my home:—
But my mother sleeps hard by,
And my father near doth lie;
Should I but rise, I'll wake her ear;
Should I go out, then he will hear:—
The night hath fled! it may not be,
For our love's a mystery!
Anon.
THE PEARLS
Oh! he my prince, that left my side
O'er the twain Lover Hills[142] to roam,
Saying that in far Kíshiu's tide
He'd hunt for pearls to bring them home.
When will he come? With trembling hope
I hie me on the busy street,
To ask the evening horoscope,
That straightway thus gives answer meet—
The lover dear, my pretty girl,
For whom thou waitest, comes not yet,
Because he's seeking ev'ry pearl
Where out at sea the billows fret.
"He comes not yet, my pretty girl!
Because among the riplets clear
He's seeking, finding ev'ry pearl;
'Tis that delays thy lover dear.
"Two days at least must come and go,
Sev'n days at most will bring him back;
'Twas he himself that told me so:—
Then cease, fair maid, to cry Alack!"
Anon.
A DAMSEL CROSSING A BRIDGE
Across the bridge, with scarlet lacquer glowing,
That o'er the Katashiha's stream is laid,
All trippingly a tender girl is going,
In bodice blue and crimson skirt arrayed.
None to escort her: would that I were knowing
Whether alone she sleeps on virgin bed,
Or if some spouse has won her by his wooing:—
Tell me her house! I'll ask the pretty maid!
Anon.
SECRET LOVE
If as my spirit yearns for thine
Thine yearns for mine, why thus delay?
And yet, what answer might be mine
If, pausing on her way,
Some gossip bade me tell
Whence the deep sighs that from my bosom swell?
And thy dear name my lips should pass,
My blushes would our love declare;
No, no! I'll say my longing was
To see the moon appear
O'er yonder darkling hill;
Yet 'tis on thee mine eyes would gaze their fill.
Anon.
THE OMEN[143]
Yes! 'twas the hour when all my hopes
Seemed idle as the dews that shake
And tremble in their lotus-cups
By deep Tsurúgi's lake—
'Twas then the omen said:—
"Fear not! he'll come his own dear love to wed."
What though my mother bids me flee
Thy fond embrace? No heed I take;
As pure, as deep my love for thee
As Kiyosúmi's lake.
One thought fills all my heart:—
When wilt thou come no more again to part?
Anon.
A MAIDEN'S LAMENT
Full oft he swore, with accents true and tender,
"Though years roll by, my love shall ne'er wax old!"
And so to him my heart I did surrender,
Clear as a mirror of pure burnished gold;
And from that day, unlike the seaweed bending
To ev'ry wave raised by the summer gust,
Firm stood my heart, on him alone depending,
As the bold seaman in his ship doth trust.
Is it some cruel god that hath bereft me?
Or hath some mortal stol'n away his heart?
No word, no letter since the day he left me,
Nor more he cometh, ne'er again to part!
In vain I weep, in helpless, hopeless sorrow,
From earliest morn until the close of day;
In vain, till radiant dawn brings back the morrow,
I sigh the weary, weary nights away.
No need to tell how young I am and slender—
A little maid that in thy palm could lie:—
Still for some message comforting and tender,
I pace the room in sad expectancy.
The Lady Sakanouhe.
RAIN AND SNOW
Forever on Mikáne's crest,
That soars so far away,
The rain it rains in ceaseless sheets,
The snow it snows all day.
And ceaseless as the rain and snow
That fall from heaven above,
So ceaselessly, since first we met,
I love my darling love.
Anon.
MOUNT MIKASH
Oft in the misty spring
The vapors roll o'er Mount Mikash's crest,
While, pausing not to rest,
The birds each morn with plaintive note do sing.
Like to the mists of spring
My heart is rent; for, like the song of birds,
Still all unanswered ring
The tender accents of my passionate words.
I call her ev'ry day
Till daylight fades away;
I call her ev'ry night
Till dawn restores the light;—
But my fond prayers are all too weak to bring
My darling back to sight.
Akahito.
EVENING
From the loud wave-washed shore
Wend I my way,
Hast'ning o'er many a flow'r,
At close of day—
On past Kusaka's crest,
Onward to thee,
Sweet as the loveliest
Flower of the lea!
Anon.
[Note.—A note to the original says: "The name of the composer of the above song was not given because he was of obscure rank," a reason which will sound strange to European ears.]