I need offer only a very few specimens of the purely pictorial poetry. The following—mere thumb-nail sketches in verse—are of recent date.
LONESOMENESS
Furu-dera ya:
Kané mono iwazu;
Sakura chiru.
—“Old temple: bell voiceless; cherry-flowers fall.”
MORNING AWAKENING AFTER A NIGHT’S REST IN A TEMPLE
Yamadera no
Shichō akéyuku:
Taki no oto.
—“In the mountain-temple the paper mosquito-curtain is lighted by the dawn: sound of water-fall.”
WINTER-SCENE
Yuki no mura;
Niwatori naité;
Aké shiroshi.
“Snow-village;—cocks crowing;—white dawn.”
Let me conclude this gossip on poetry by citing from another group of verses—also pictorial, in a certain sense, but chiefly remarkable for ingenuity—two curiosities of impromptu. The first is old, and is attributed to the famous poetess Chiyo. Having been challenged to make a poem of seventeen syllables referring to a square, a triangle, and a circle, she is said to have immediately responded,—
Kaya no té wo
Hitotsu hazushité,
Tsuki-mi kana!
—“Detaching one corner of the mosquito-net, lo! I behold the moon!” The top of the mosquito-net, suspended by cords at each of its four corners, represents the square;—letting down the net at one corner converts the square into a triangle;—and the moon represents the circle.