"Two days at least must come and go
Before she homeward flies;

Sev'n days at most,-it must be so,-
Will show her to thine eyes.

[In the year 749 there had been no rain since the sixth day of the intercalary fifth moon,* and the peasants' fields and gardens seemed on the point of drying up. On the first day of the sixth moon there suddenly appeared a rain-cloud, which gave occasion to the following verses.]

From ev'ry quarter of the vast domains,

Earth's whole expanse,-o'er which the sovʼreign

reigns,

Far as the clank of horses' hoofs resounds,

Far as the junks seek ocean's utmost bounds,
Ten thousand off'rings, as in days of yore,
Still to this day their varied treasures pour
Into th' imperial coffers :-but of all
The bearded rice is chief and principal.
But now, alas! the fields are till'd in vain;

* According to the old Japanese calendar, which was modelled on that of China, an intercalary month had to be inserted three times in every eight years to make up for the reckoning of the year as containing only 360 days.

Day follows day, and still no show'r of rain;
Morn after morn each thirsty blade droops down,
And ev'ry garden tint is chang'd to brown;
While I, heart-stricken, on the prospect gaze,
And, as the infant that his hands doth raise
To clutch his mother's breast, so to the heav'n
I lift mine eyes to pray that rain he giv'n.

Oh! may the cloud whose fleecy form is seen
To rest yon distant mountain-peaks between,
Wafted across to where the ocean-god
Makes in the foaming waves his dread abode,
Meet with the yapours of the watʼry plain,
Then here returning, fall as grateful rain!
(YAKAMOCHI.)

Eament on the Mutability of all Earthly Things.

Since the far natal hour of earth and heaven,
Men never cease to cry

That ne'er to aught in this our world 'twas given
To last eternally.

If upward gazing on the moon of light

That hangs in heav'n's high plain,

I see her wax, 'twill not be many a night
Before that moon shall wane.

And if in spring each twig puts forth his flow'r
On all the hills around,

Dew-chill'd and storm-swept in dull autumn's hour
The leaves fall to the ground,

Such, too, is man: soon pales the ruddy cheek,
The raven locks soon fade;

And the fresh smile of morn 'twere vain to seek
Amid the evening shade.

And I that gaze upon the mortal scene,
My tears flow down for ever,

Where all is viewless as the wind unseen,
And fleeting as the river.

(YAKAMOCHI.)

The Cuckoo.

(MAY, A.D. 750.)

Near to the valley stands my humble cot,
The village nestles 'neath the cooling shade
Of lofty timber; but the silent glade
Not yet re-echoes with the cuckoo's note.

The morning hour e'er finds me, sweetest bird!
Before my gate; and, when the day doth pale,
I cast a wistful glance adown the vale;—
But e'en one note, alas! not yet is heard.

(HIRONAHA.)

Lines

SENT BY A MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTER. (JULY, A.D. 750.)

[The mother was Sakanouhe, and lived at the court of Nara. Her daughter, who was married to the poet Yakamochi, had

H

accompanied her husband to his governorship of the distant province of Koshi.*]

Thou wast my child, and to my heart more dear
Than to the sov'reign monarch of the deep

All the rich jewels that in casket rare
Beneath the billows he is said to keep.

But it was just that thy bold spouse should bear
Thee in his train t'ward Koshi's deserts wild.
Thou bad'st adieu; and since that hour, sweet child,
In ceaseless visions of remembrance clear
There seems to float the face for which I yearn,
The brows oblique as ocean's crested wave.
But I am old, and scarce love's pow'r to save
May stretch my life to welcome thy return.

(SAKANOUHE.)

* The native commentators do not notice the discrepancy between the statement of this poem that Yakamochi had taken his wife with him to his far northern governorship, and those of his own verses written from the north to the wife whom he had left at Nara, and lamenting his solitary state (see the songs on pp. 64 and 66, besides many others in the "Mañyefushifu"). The simplest explanation probably is that the poet had two wives (though Sakanouhe's daughter was doubtless the legitimate one), and that, in writing of his solitariness to his Nara wife, he made use of a poetical license as common among the ancient Japanese as the relations between the sexes were loose.

Short Stanzas

FROM THE

"KOKINSHIFU;"

OR,

"COLLECTION OF ODES, ANCIENT AND

MODERN."