When the dawn is shining,
He takes it up and fondles it with pride;
When the day's declining,
He lays it by his pillow's side.
Hark to the twanging of the string!
This is the Bow of our great Lord and King!
Now to the morning chase they ride,
Now to the chase again at eventide:
Hark to the twanging of the string!
This is the Bow of our great Lord and King!
Hashibito.
SPRING AND AUTUMN
When winter turns to spring,
Birds that were songless make their songs resound,
Flow'rs that were flow'rless cover all the ground;
Yet 'tis no perfect thing:—
I cannot walk, so tangled is each hill;
So thick the herbs I cannot pluck my fill.
But in the autumn-tide
I cull the scarlet leaves and love them dear,
And let the green leaves stay, with many a tear,
All on the fair hill-side:—
No time so sweet as that. Away! Away!
Autumn's the time I fain would keep alway.
Ohogimi.
SPRING
When winter turns to spring,
The dews of morn in pearly radiance lie,
The mists of eve rise circling to the sky,
And Kaminábi's thickets ring
With the sweet notes the nightingale doth sing.