Late in the ninth month a fierce storm blew down from the peaks, rousing my emotions to such a pitch that my sobs seemed to match the roar of the falls.

Tears of anxiety
Stain my sleeves darker and darker:
If only someone—even a stranger—
Would inquire why I cry! [5.26]

sad girl



<  #231  >

From The Confessions of Lady Nijō, translated by Karen Brazell - About this site