To be quite literal is to be crudely unintelligible; the absence of all gender, number, and person makes certain interpolations inevitable. At the same time, the translator must take for his unvarying motto Sancta simplicitas.
Love, of course, inspires innumerable quatrains, which fly from mouth to mouth, from geisha to gejo, like butterflies from one blossom to another. Sometimes it is the man who speaks, as in the following:
Snow Song.
Careless of snow-drifts,
Nightly I seek thee;
Deeper the love lies,
Heaped in my heart.
More often the woman, who does not allow her sense of humour to be atrophied by passion. But perhaps the humour is quite unconscious in this description of
Lovers Meeting.
So much to talk of!