Sémi ni dété,
Hotaru ni modoru,—
Suzumi kana!
—Yayū.
When the sémi cease their noise, and the fireflies come out—oh! how refreshing the hour!
Sémi no tatsu,
Ato suzushisa yo!
Matsu no koë.
—Baijaku.
When the sémi cease their storm, oh, how refreshing the stillness!
Gratefully then resounds the musical speech of the pines.
[Here I may mention, by the way, that there is a little Japanese song about the matsu no koë, in which the onomatope "zazanza" very well represents the deep humming of the wind in the pine-needles:—
Zazanza!
Hama-matsu no oto wa,—
Zazanza,
Zazanza!
Zazanza!
The sound of the pines of the shore,—
Zazanza!
Zazanza!]
There are poets, however, who declare that the feeling produced by the noise of sémi depends altogether upon the nervous condition of the listener:—
Mori no sémi
Suzushiki koë ya,
Atsuki koë.
—Otsushu.
Sometimes sultry the sound; sometimes, again, refreshing:
The chant of the forest-sémi accords with the hearer's mood.
Suzushisa mo
Atsusa mo sémi no
Tokoro kana!
—Fuhaku.