Page:Blue Trousers (Waley 1928).pdf/21
tridges strung to the bough of a tree. With it was a prose message of the usual kind, which I will not here reproduce, for the pronouncements of Royalty on such occasions are not necessarily of great interest. The Imperial Poem was as follows: ‘The tracks these woodland birds imprinted on the snowy hill would guide you safely on the path that Precedent decrees.’ By this he meant that the Grand Minister had never before been absent on the occasion of the Royal Visit.
Genji entertained the messenger with suitable respect, and finally sent him back with the poem: ‘So thick this morning’s snow that, where I seek my way, no ancient track remains upon the wind-drifts of the desolate hill.’[1] I have, as a matter of fact, heard a good deal more of what took place on this occasion; but there are still several gaps that I have not been able to fill in, and I shall therefore at present say nothing further about it.
Next day Genji wrote a note to Tamakatsura in which he said: ‘How did you get on yesterday? Were you able to see the procession properly? I am sure that, if you were, you now take a very different view about my recent proposal. . . .’ She was at first amused by the notion that a fleeting glimpse through the window of a palanquin could have altered her decision about serving at the Palace. But after a moment’s reflection she realized that this was precisely what had happened. How clever he always was at guessing what went on in other people’s heads!
In reply she sent the poem: ‘How think you I could have seen the Light of Heaven when snow-clouds dimmed the morning with their sullen breath?’[2] Genji showed
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