side, and Yukifusa, who was watching him, quite lost heart. “If it were really some important business, I would go back, but to write poetry—how can I possibly return to the capital when I see him look that way?” Such were his thoughts, but he could not speak them.
It was just the time for the Emperor’s midnight devotions. A wind from the sea was blowing fiercely, and there even came a harsh rattle of hail. The Emperor broke the ice that had formed during this terribly cold night to offer holy water to the Buddha, like some little priest in a mountain temple. Tadaaki and Yukifusa, who had come to worship with sprays of anise as offerings, were profoundly stirred, and wondered when the Emperor had learned the ceremony. The Emperor was beset by countless thoughts as he prayed that somehow once again he might rule the country, this time with a better understanding of the true natures of men.
