YAMA (reciting in the Nō style.)
Then the great King of Hell—
Because, though on the Hill of Death
Many birds flew, he had not tasted one,
“Come, take your pole,” he cried, and here and now
Give us a demonstration of your art.
Then go in peace.
KIYOYORI.
Nothing could be simpler.
I will catch a few birds and present them to you.
Then he took his pole, and crying
“To the hunt, to the hunt! ...”
CHORUS.
“To the bird-hunt,” he cried,
And suddenly from the steep paths of the southern side of the Hill of Death
Many birds came flying.
Then swifter than sight his pole
Darted among them.
“I will roast them,” he cried.
And when they were cooked,
“Please try one,” and he offered them to the King.
YAMA (greedily).
Let me eat it, let me eat it.
(Eats, smacking his lips.)
Well! I must say they taste uncommonly good!