When began the earth and heaven,
By the banks of heaven's river[146]
All the mighty gods assembled,
All the mighty gods in council.
And, for that her sov'reign grandeur
The great goddess of the day-star
Rul'd th' ethereal realms of heaven,
Downward through the many-piled
Welkin did they waft her grandson,
Bidding him, till earth and heaven,
Waxing old, should fall together,
O'er the middle land of reed-plains,
O'er the land of waving rice-fields,
Spread abroad his power imperial.
II
But not his Kiyomi's palace:—
'Tis his sov'reign's, hers the empire;
And the sun's divine descendant,
Ever soaring, passeth upward
Through the heav'n's high rocky portals.
III
Why, dear prince, oh! why desert us?
Did not all beneath the heaven,
All that dwell in earth's four quarters,
Pant, with eye and heart uplifted,
As for heav'n-sent rain in summer,
For thy rule of flow'ry fragrance,
For thy plenilune of empire?
Now on lone Mayúmi's hillock,
Firm on everlasting columns,
Pilest thou a lofty palace,
Whence no more, when day is breaking,
Sound thine edicts, awe-compelling.
Day to day is swiftly gathered,
Moon to moon, till e'er thy faithful
Servants from thy palace vanish.
Hitomaro.
ON THE DEATH OF THE NUN RIGUWAÑ
Ofttimes in far Corea didst thou hear
Of our Cipango as a goodly land;
And so, to parents and to brethren dear
Bidding adieu, thou sailed'st to the strand
Of these domains, that own th' imperial pow'r,
Where glittering palaces unnumbered rise;
Yet such might please thee not, nor many a bow'r
Where village homesteads greet the pilgrim's eyes:—
But in this spot, at Sahoyáma's base,
Some secret influence bade thee find thy rest—
Bade seek us out with loving eagerness,
As seeks the weeping infant for the breast.
And here with aliens thou didst choose to dwell,
Year in, year out, in deepest sympathy;
And here thou buildest thee an holy cell;
And so the peaceful years went gliding by.
But ah! what living thing mote yet avoid
Death's dreary summons?—And thine hour did sound
When all the friends on whom thine heart relied
Slept on strange pillows on the mossy ground.
So, while the moon lit up Kasuga's crest,
O'er Sahogáha's flood thy corse they bore
To fill a tomb upon yon mountain's breast,
And dwell in darkness drear for evermore.
No words, alas! nor efforts can avail:—
Nought can I do, poor solitary child!
Nought can I do but make my bitter wail,
And pace the room with cries and gestures wild,
Ceaselessly weeping, till my snowy sleeve
Is wet with tears. Who knows? Perchance, again
Wafted, they're borne upon the sighs I heave,
On 'Arima's far distant heights to rain.
Sakanouhe.