I wrote a simple answer:

The iris I arrange
Have shallow, floating roots—
Unexpected sorrows,
Sleeves that never dry.
“I thought our love would endure all misfortunes.” It seemed a futile gesture to reply, yet late that night he visited me. [3.14]

sad girl



<  #65 (Permalink)  >

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