Anthology of Japanese Literature by Donald Keene

chanted,
Mitarashigawa ni
By the river's holy stream,
Seshi misogi
Purifying me.
Kami wa ukeza zo
But the gods listened not;
Narinilkerashi mo
It was all, it seems, for nought.
    Thus he recited, and left the riverside.
    Now the Emperor was a person of beautiful countenance, and every morning when the girl heard him raise his fine voice fervendy and reverendy in prayers to the Buddha, she wept bitterly. "What a tragic stroke of Fate that I cannot truly serve this noble sovereign! Tied by the bonds of love to another man, only endless grief can be my lot."
    It came to pass that His Majesty at last got word of the affair. He banished Narihira from the capital. As for the girl, her cousin the Empress Dowager had her expelled from the palace and locked up in a windowless tower in her village, and inflicted much torment on her.
    Locked within the tower, the girl said in tears:
Ama no karu
Like the warekara 2
Mo ni sumu mushi no
That lives among the seaweed
Warekara to
Fisherwomen gather,
Ne wo koso nakame
I cry none is to blame but me:
Yo wo ba uramiji
I have no hatred for the world.
    Thus did she cry, and each night Narihira would journey from his place of banishment to her, and playing upon his flute with great feeling, sing a doleful plaint in his melodious voice. Though she was locked up in a windowless tower, she recognized her lover's voice, but bound and tormented as she was there was no way to catch a glimpse of him.
Saritomo to
My heart breaks that
Omouramu koso
He visits here each night
Kanashikere
In hopes of meeting me;
Aru ni mo aranu
Little does he realize
Mi wo shirazu shite
How hopeless is my plight.
    Unable, despite all efforts, to meet his love, Narihira traveled back and forth between the tower and his place of exile.
Itazura ni
All in vain, I know,
Yukite wa kinuru
Are my goings and comings;
Mono yue ni
So great, however,
Mimaku hoshisa ni
Is my desire to see her
Izanawaretsutsu
That I am ceaselessly drawn.
    ( LXV )
    . .
    In former times there lived a lady in East Goj ō , in the Western Pavilion of the Empress Dowager's palace. Narihira visited her there, at first with no specific intentions but later in great infatuation. About the tenth day of the first month, however, she concealed herself elsewhere. Although he heard where her refuge was, it was impossible for him to go to her, and he became increasingly depressed. In the first month of the following year, when the plum blossoms were in their full glory, he went again to the Western Pavilion, remembering with longing the happenings of the previous year. He stood and looked, sat and looked, but nothing seemed the same. Bitterly weeping, he lay on the deserted bare wooden floor until the moon sank in the sky. Recalling the happiness of the year before, he composed the poem:
Tsuki ya aranu
Is not that the moon?
Haru ya mukashi no
And is not the spring the same
Haru naranu
Spring of the old days?
Wa ga mi hitotsu wa
My body is the same body—
Moto no mi ni shite
Yet everything seems different.
    ( IV )
    . .
    In former times a certain lascivious woman thought: "I wish I could somehow meet a man who would show me affection!" It was, however, impossible for her to express this desire openly. She therefore made up a most unlikely dream, called her three sons together, and related it to them. Two of them dismissed it with a curt reply, but the youngest son interpreted the dream as meaning that a fine man would certainly come along, and the old woman was delighted.
    The son thought: "Other men are coldhearted—I wish that I could bring her together with Captain Narihira." One day he met the Captain while the latter was out hunting. He seized the bridle of the Captain's horse and told him of his request. The Captain took pity on the old woman, visited her house, and slept with her. He did not come again, and the woman went to his house, where she stealthily looked at him through an opening in the fence. The Captain, catching a glimpse of her, recited:
Momotose