Page:Anthology of Japanese Literature.pdf/291

Rh  (together): To the music of the reaper’s flute
 * No song is sung
 * But the sighing of wind in the fields.

They that were reaping,
 * Reaping on that hill,
 * Walk now through the fields
 * Homeward, for it is dusk.

(together): Short is the way that leads
 * From the sea of Suma back to my home.
 * This little journey, up to the hill
 * And down to the shore again, and up to the hill—
 * This is my life, and the sum of hateful tasks.
 * If one should ask me
 * I too would answer
 * That on the shore of Suma
 * I live in sadness.
 * Yet if any guessed my name,
 * Then might I too have friends.
 * But now from my deep misery
 * Even those that were dearest
 * Are grown estranged. Here must I dwell abandoned
 * To one thought’s anguish:
 * That I must dwell here.

Hey, you reapers! I have a question to ask you.

Is it to us you are speaking? What do you wish to know?

Was it one of you who was playing on the flute just now?

Yes, it was we who were playing.

It was a pleasant sound, and all the pleasanter because one does not look for such music from men of your condition.

Unlooked for from men of our condition, you say!
 * Have you not read:
 * “Do not envy what is above you
 * Nor despise what is below you”?
 * Moreover the songs of woodmen and the flute-playing of herdsmen,