I have no man who will look out for my future makes me comfortless. I do not wish to bury myself in dreariness. Is it because of my worldly mind that I feel lonely? On moonlight nights in autumn, when I am hopelessly sad, I often go out on the balcony and gaze dreamily at the moon. It makes me think of days gone by. People say that it is dangerous to look at the moon in solitude, but something impels me, and sitting a little withdrawn I muse there. In the wind-cooled evening I play on the koto, though others may not care to hear it. I fear that my playing betrays the sorrow which becomes more intense, and I become disgusted with myself—so foolish and miserable am I.
My room is ugly, blackened by smoke. I play on a thirteen or six-stringed koto, but I neglect to take away the bridges even in rainy weather, and I lean it up against the wall between the cabinet and the door jamb. On either side of the koto stands a lute [Japanese biwa]. A pair of big bookcases have in them all the books they can hold. In one of them are placed old poems and romances. They are the homes of worms which come frightening us when we turn the pages, so none ever wish to read them. As to the other cabinet, since the person[1] who placed his own books there no hand has touched it. When I am bored to death I take out one or two of them; then my maids gather around me and say; “Your life will not be favored with old age if you do such a thing! Why do you read Chinese? Formerly even the reading of Sutras was not encouraged for women.” They rebuke me in the shade [i.e. behind my back]. I have heard of it and have wished to say, “It is far from certain that he who does no forbidden thing enjoys a long life,” but it would be a lack of reserve to say it to the maids. Our deeds vary with our age and deeds vary with the individual. Some are proud to read books, others look over old cast-away writings because they are bored with having nothing to do. It would not be becoming for such a one to chatter away about religious thoughts, noisily shaking a rosary. I feel this, and before my women keep myself from doing what otherwise I could do easily. But after all, when I was among the ladies of the court I did
- ↑ Her husband who was a scholar in Chinese literature. He died in 1001. It is now 1008.
