ENVOYS
I find no solace in my heart;
Like the bird flying behind the clouds
I weep aloud.
Helpless and in pain,
I would run out and vanish,
But the thought of my children holds me.
No children to wear them in wealthy homes,
They are thrown away as waste,
Those silks and quilted clothes!
With no sackcloth for my children to wear,
Must I thus grieve,
For ever at a loss!
Though vanishing like a bubble,
I live, praying that my life be long
Like a rope of a thousand fathoms.
Humble as I am,
Like an armband of coarse twill,
How I crave a thousand years of life!
An elegy on the death of Furuhi
What worth to me the seven treasures,
So prized and desired by all the world?
Furuhi, born of us two,
Our love, our dear white pearl,
With dawn, with the morning star,
Frolicked about the bed with us, standing or sitting;
