Japanese Plays and Playfellows

by Osman Edwards

Yet for joy weeping,

Words, when we meet, fall

Head over heels.

Bodily beauty is, of course, particularly fascinating to a race which cannot be pronounced less susceptible to its charm than those European peoples—Greek, Italian, French—whose feeling for line and colour is reckoned a superiority in them to their Northern neighbours. Yet the panegyric of his mistress’s hair or eyes or bosom is entirely banished from even vulgar songs. Innate refinement rather than cold indifference is probably the cause. The tree of the spirit is preferred to the fruit and flowerage of the flesh. Yet one seems to detect a flavour of apology in this:

Confession.

Stylish appearance

Does not bewitch me;

Fruits pass, and flowers:

I love the tree.

The Japanese word ki signifies both “tree” and “spirit.” Quite commonplace, I own, is the consolation afforded by some lines engraven on a toothpick, but how many almond-eyed maidens visiting the tea-house which thus combined mental with carnal refreshment have tittered to read them!