Anon.
RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDREN
Ne'er a melon can I eat,
But calls to mind my children dear;
Ne'er a chestnut crisp and sweet,
But makes the lov'd ones seem more near.
Whence did they come, my life to cheer?
Before mine eyes they seem to sweep,
So that I may not even sleep.
What use to me the gold and silver hoard?
What use to me the gems most rich and rare?
Brighter by far—aye! bright beyond compare—
The joys my children to my heart afford!
Yamagami-no Okura.
THE BROOK OF HATSÚSE
Pure is Hatsúse mountain-brook—
So pure it mirrors all the clouds of heaven;
Yet here no fishermen for shelter look
When sailing home at even:—
'Tis that there are no sandy reaches,
Nor sheltering beaches,
Where the frail craft might find some shelt'ring nook.
Ah, well-a-day! we have no sandy reaches:—
But heed that not;
Nor shelving beaches:—
But heed that not!
Come a-jostling and a-hustling
O'er our billows gayly bustling:—
Come, all ye boats, and anchor in this spot!
Anon.