Even the rowing boats can scarce proceed, so thick the clamor of the frogs of Horié!
The exaggeration of the last verse is of course intentional, and in the original not uneffective. In some parts of the world—in the marshes of Florida and of southern Louisiana, for example,—the clamor of the frogs at certain seasons resembles the roaring of a furious sea; and whoever has heard it can appreciate the fancy of sound as obstacle.
Other poems compare or associate the sound made by frogs with the sound of rain:—
The song of the earliest frogs,—fainter than falling of rain.
What I took for the falling of rain is only the singing of frogs.
Now I shall dream, lulled by the patter of rain and the song of the frogs.
Other poems, again, are intended only as tiny pictures,—thumb-nail sketches,—such as this hokku,—
Path between ricefields; frogs jumping away to right and left;—
—or this, which is a thousand years old:—