I will not attempt to render this in verse; approximately it may be Englished as follows:
Takasago, ye married ones, have sailed now
From the bay of lone estate,
The moon of love has risen with the tide of joy
And casts its silver beams upon the waters of your lives.
The shadow of Awaji's Island steals across the rippling bay,
And now the waters are all enshadowed, e'en to Suminoyé—
Let peace and joy remain, for ye are one!
I have endeavored to ingraft the hidden meaning, or imi, into the above. Literally the ode would signify but little to us. The chant being finished, the few friends and relatives now offer their congratulations. In the evening there are a general reception and congratulations and good wishes all around. Among the merchant classes it is customary for the naikodo to take the bride around among her new neighbors the day after the wedding. The costume of both bride and groom at the wedding is ordinary "full dress," of a somber hue, but it must bear the family crest. Naturally, the details of marriage etiquette differ somewhat according to the social standing of the contracting parties, but the wedding itself always remains the same.
An interesting description of a sumptuous marriage and feast is contained in the following story, which also goes to show that the Japanese fox—that wary beast—also takes a keen interest in weddings:
THE REVENGE OF THE FOX.[1]
About fifty years ago, when the Shōgun Tokugawa was at the head of the feudal chiefs, there was a prince in the province of Mikawa, whose prime minister was a man of great renown for his wisdom. This minister had lost his wife in the early years of wedlock, after the birth of a little daughter. The child grew to maidenhood, and often wandered far into the woods that surrounded the grounds adjoining the homestead, searching for wild flowers. The thousand sweet odors and the graceful blossoming plants filled her with intense enjoyment. One day she strolled deeper into the odorous shade of the thick forest than was her custom, and discovered a large hole, which she knew was the den of a fox. With childlike whim and thoughtlessness she began to throw little stones into the opening; but when the shadows of the great trees grew longer and longer, she suddenly remembered that the hour was late, and with a flutter of the heart hastened homeward to her father.
- ↑ Originally translated into German by F. Wanington Eastlake, Ph. D., and read before the Gesellschaft für Volkerkunde in Ost-Asien.
