  Yes! 'twas the hour when all my hopes Seemed idle as the dews that shake And tremble in their lotus-cups By deep TsurÚgi's lake— 'Twas then the omen said:— "Fear not! he'll come his own dear love to wed." What though my mother bids me flee Thy fond embrace? No heed I take; As pure, as deep my love for thee As KiyosÚmi's lake. One thought fills all my heart:— When wilt thou come no more again to part? Anon. |
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