[Footnote 135: Anciently (and this custom is still followed in some
parts of Japan) the hair of female children was cut short at the neck
and allowed to hang down loosely till the age of eight. At twelve or
thirteen the hair was generally bound up, though this ceremony was
often frequently postponed till marriage. At the present day, the
methods of doing the hair of female children, of grown-up girls, and
of married women vary considerably.]

[Footnote 136: The original of this stanza is obscure, and the native
commentators have no satisfactory interpretation to offer.]

[Footnote 137: In the original the title is "The Beggar's Dialogue,"
there being two poems, of which that here translated is the second.
The first one, which is put into the mouth of an unmarried beggar, who
takes a cheerier view of poverty, is not so well fitted for
translation into English.]

[Footnote 138: Because, according to the Buddhist doctrine of
perpetually recurring births, it is at any given time more probable
that the individual will come into the world in the shape of one of
the lower animals.]

[Footnote 139: A literal translation of the Japanese idiom.]

[Footnote 140: The Japanese commentators are puzzled over the meaning
of the passage "with skirt uplifted, drew near and fondled me." To the
European mind there seems to be nothing obscure in it. The mother
probably lifted her skirt to wipe her eyes, when she was crying. It is
evidently a figurative way of saying that the mother was crying.]

LOVE SONGS

ON BEHOLDING THE MOUNTAIN

_Composed by the commander of the forces of the Mikado Zhiyomei_

The long spring day is o'er, and dark despond
My heart invades, and lets the tears flow down,
As all alone I stand, when from beyond
The mount our heav'n-sent monarch's throne doth crown.

There breathes the twilight wind and turns my sleeve.
Ah, gentle breeze! to turn, home to return,
Is all my prayer; I cannot cease to grieve
On this long toilsome road; I burn, I burn!

Yes! the poor heart I used to think so brave
Is all afire, though none the flame may see,
Like to the salt-kilns there by Tsunu's wave,
Where toil the fisher-maidens wearily.

_Anon_.

LOVE IS PAIN

'Twas said of old, and still the ages say,
"The lover's path is full of doubt and woe."
Of me they spake: I know not, nor can know,
If she I sigh for will my love repay.
My heart