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_Chisato._
x.x.xIX
Softly the dews upon my forehead light:-- From off the oars, perchance, as feather'd spray, They drop, while some fair skiff bends on her way Across the Heav'nly Stream[157] on starlit night.
_Anon._
XL
What though the waters of that antique rill That flows along the heath, no more are cold; Those who remember what it was of old Go forth to draw them in their buckets still.
_Anon._
XLI[158]
Old Age is not a friend I wish to meet; And if some day to see me he should come, I'd lock the door as he walk'd up the street, And cry, "Most honored sir! I'm not at home!"
_Anon_.
XLII[159]
Yes, I am old; but yet with doleful stour I will not choose to rail 'gainst Fate's decree.
An' I had not grown old, then ne'er for me Had dawned the day that brings this golden hour.
_Tos.h.i.+yuki._
XLIII[160]
The roaring torrent scatters far and near Its silv'ry drops:--Oh! let me pick them up!
For when of grief I drain some day the cup, Each will do service as a bitter tear.
_Yukihira._
XLIV
_Composed on beholding the cascade of Otoha on Mount Hiye_
Long years, methinks, of sorrow and of care Must have pa.s.s'd over the old fountain-head Of the cascade; for, like a silv'ry thread, It rolls adown, nor shows one jet-black hair.
_Tadamine._
XLV
If e'en that grot where thou didst seek release From worldly strife in lonesome mountain glen Should find thee sometimes sorrowful, ah! then Where mayest thou farther flee to search for peace?
_Mitsune._
XLVI[161]
So close thy friendly roof, so near the spring, That though not yet dull winter hath gone hence, The wind that bloweth o'er our parting fence From thee to me the first gay flow'rs doth bring.
_f.u.kayabu._
XLVII
If to this frame of mine in spring's first hour, When o'er the moor the lightsome mists do curl, Might but be lent the shape of some fair flower, Haply thou 'dst deign to pluck me, cruel girl!
_Okikaze._
XLVIII
"Love me, sweet girl! thy love is all I ask!"
"Love thee?" she laughing cries; "I love thee not!"
"Why, then I'll cease to love thee on the spot, Since loving thee is such a thankless task!"
_Anon._
XLIX
A youth once lov'd me, and his love I spurn'd.
But see the vengeance of the pow'rs above On cold indiff'rence:--now 'tis I that love, And my fond love, alas! is not returned.
_Anon._
L
Beneath love's heavy weight my falt'ring soul Plods, like the packman, o'er life's dusty road.
Oh! that some friendly hand would find a pole To ease my shoulders of their grievous load!
_Anon._
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 151: The plum-tree, cherry-tree, etc., are in j.a.pan cultivated, not for their fruit, but for their blossoms. Together with the wistaria, the lotus, the iris, the lespedeza, and a few others, these take the place which is occupied in the West by the rose, the lily, the violet, etc.]
[Footnote 152: The lotus is the Buddhist emblem of purity, and the lotus growing out of the bud is a frequent metaphor for the heart that remains unsullied by contact with the world.]
