_By One of His Ladies_

Alas! poor mortal maid! unfit to hold High converse with the glorious G.o.ds above,[145]

Each morn that breaks still finds me unconsoled, Each hour still hears me sighing for thy love.

Wert thou a precious stone, I'd clasp thee tight Around mine arm; wert thou a silken dress I'd ne'er discard thee, either day or night:-- Last night, sweet love! I dreamt I saw thy face.

ON THE DEATH OF THE POET'S MISTRESS

How fondly did I yearn to gaze (For was there not the dear abode Of her whose love lit up my days?) On Karu's often-trodden road.

But should I wander in and out, Morning and evening ceaselessly, Our loves were quickly noised about, For eyes enough there were to see.

So, trusting that as tendrils part To meet again, so we might meet, As in deep rocky gorge my heart, Unseen, unknown, in secret beat.

But like the sun at close of day, And as behind a cloud the moon, So pa.s.sed my gentle love away, An autumn leaf ta'en all too soon.

When came the fatal messenger, I knew not what to say or do:-- But who might sit and simply hear?

Rather, methought, of all my woe.

Haply one thousandth part might find Relief if my due feet once more, Where she so often trod, should wind Through Karu's streets and past her door.

But mute that noise, nor all the crowd Could show her like, or soothe my care; So, calling her dear name aloud, I waved my sleeve in blank despair.

_Hitomaro_.

ELEGY ON THE POET'S WIFE

The gulls that twitter on the rush-grown sh.o.r.e When fall the shades of night, That o'er the waves in loving pairs do soar When shines the morning light-- 'Tis said e'en these poor birds delight To nestle each beneath his darling's wing That, gently fluttering, Through the dark hours wards off the h.o.a.r-frost's might.

Like to the stream that finds The downward path it never may retrace, Like to the shapeless winds, Poor mortals pa.s.s away without a trace:-- So she I love has left her place, And, in a corner of my widowed couch, Wrapped in the robe she wove me, I must crouch, Far from her fond embrace.

_Nibi_.

ON THE DEATH OF PRINCE HINAMI

I

When began the earth and heaven, By the banks of heaven's river[146]

All the mighty G.o.ds a.s.sembled, All the mighty G.o.ds in council.

And, for that her sov'reign grandeur The great G.o.ddess 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, pa.s.seth 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 Mayumi'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 RIGUWAn

Ofttimes in far Corea didst thou hear Of our c.i.p.ango 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 Sahoyama'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 Sahogaha'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_.

ON THE POET'S SON FURUBI

Sev'n are the treasures mortals most do prize, But I regard them not:-- One only jewel could delight mine eyes-- The child that I begot.

My darling boy, who with the morning sun Began his joyous day; Nor ever left me, but with child-like fun Would make me help him play;

Who'd take my hand when eve its shadows spread, Saying, "I'm sleepy grown; 'Twixt thee and mother I would lay my head:-- Oh! leave me not alone!"

Then with his pretty prattle in mine ears, I'd lie awake and scan The good and evil of the coming years, And see the child a man.

And, as the seaman trusts his bark, I'd trust That nought could harm the boy:-- Alas! I wist not that the whirling gust Would shipwreck all my joy!