from that of an ordinary individual. As he was nearing the Middle River he noticed a small house standing amid clumps of trees. There came from it the sound of some one playing the zithern; a well-made instrument, so it seemed, and tuned to the eastern mode.[1] It was being excellently played. The house was quite near the highway and Genji, alighting for a moment from the carriage, stood near the gate to listen. Peeping inside he saw a great laurel-tree quavering in the wind. It reminded him of that Kamo festival long ago, when the dancers had nodded their garlands of laurel and sun-flower.[2] Something about the place interested him, seemed even to be vaguely familiar. Suddenly he remembered that this was a house which he had once visited a long while before. His heart beat fast…. But it had all happened too long ago. He felt shy of announcing himself. All the same, it seemed a pity to pass the house without a word, and for a while he stood hesitating. Just when he was about to drive away, a cuckoo flew by. Somehow its note seemed to be an invitation to him to stay, and turning his chariot he composed the following poem, which he gave into Koremitsu’s hands: ‘Hark to the cuckoo’s song! Who could not but revisit the hedge-row of this house where once he sung before?’ There seemed to be several people sitting together in a room on the left. This must be the lady’s own apartment. Several of the voices Koremitsu thought he could remember having heard before. He made a slight noise to attract attention and delivered the poem. He could hear it being discussed within by a number of young women who seemed somewhat puzzled by it. Presently a reply was brought: ‘That to my garden Cuckoo has returned, his song proclaims. But how, pray, should I see him, caged behind the summer
- ↑ I.e. as a wagon or Japanese zithern, not in the Chinese style.
- ↑ See vol. i, p. 257.
