Anon.
XXXV
Love
I ask'd my soul where springs th' ill-omened seed
That bears the herb of dull forgetfulness;[155]
And answer straightway came:—Th' accursed weed
Grows in that heart which knows no tenderness.
Sosei.
XXXVI
Elegies[156]
So frail our life, perchance to-morrow's sun
May never rise for me. Ah! well-a-day!
Till comes the twilight of the sad to-day,
I'll mourn for thee, O thou beloved one!
Tsurayuki.
XXXVII