Where the flowers of the yamabuki are imaged in the still marsh-water, the voice of the kawazu is heard;—
—or the following pretty fancy:—
Now sings the frog, and the voice of the frog is perfumed;—for into the shining stream the cherry-petals fall.
The last two pieces refer, of course, to the true singing frog.
Many short poems are addressed directly to the frog itself,—whether kaeru or kajika. There are poems of melancholy, of affection, of humor, of religion, and even of philosophy among these. Sometimes the frog is likened to a spirit resting on a lotos-leaf; sometimes, to a priest repeating sûtras for the sake of the dying flowers; sometimes to a pining lover; sometimes to a host receiving travellers; sometimes to a blasphemer, “always beginning” to say something against the gods, but always afraid to finish it. Most of the following examples are taken from the recent book of frog-poems published by Roséki;—each paragraph of my prose rendering, it should be remembered, represents a distinct poem:—
Now all the guests being gone, why still thus respectfully sitting, O frog?
So resting your hands on the ground, do you welcome the Rain, O frog?
You disturb in the ancient well the light of the stars, O frog!