Tô-no-Chiûjiô gently approached him. They had, as usual, some pathetic conversation, and then the latter hummed, as if to himself—
"Beyond the cloud in yonder sky,
From which descends the passing rain,
Her gentle soul may dwell,
Though we may cease to trace its form in vain."
This was soon responded to by Genji:—
"That cloudy shrine we view on high,
Where my lost love may dwell unseen,
Looks gloomy now to this sad eye
That looks with tears on what has been."
There was among the faded plants of the garden a solitary Rindô-nadeshko.[85] When Tô-no-Chiûjiô had gone, Genji picked this flower, and sent it to his mother-in-law by the nurse of the infant child, with the following:—
"In bowers where all beside are dead
Survives alone this lovely flower,
Departed autumn's cherished gem,
Symbol of joy's departed hour."[86]
Genji still felt lonely. He wrote a letter to the Princess Momo-zono (peach-gardens). He had known her long. He admired her, too. She had been a spectator, with her father, on the day of the consecration of the Saiin, and was one of those to whom the appearance of Genji was most welcome. In his letter he stated that she might have a little sympathy with him in his sorrow, and he also sent with it the following:—
"Many an autumn have I past
In gloomy thought, but none I ween
Has been so mournful as the last,
Which rife with grief and change hath been."
There was, indeed, nothing serious between Genji and this princess; yet, as far as correspondence was concerned, they now and then exchanged letters, so she did not object to receiving this communication. She felt for him much, and an answer was returned, in which she expressed her sympathy at his bereavement.