Sleeping one night before the Princess, I was
awakened by cries and fluttering noises from the
waterfowl in the pond.
Like us the waterfowl pass all the night in floating sleep.
They seem to he weary

With shaking away the frost from their feathers.
My companions passed their leisure time In talk-
ing over romances with the door open which separated
our rooms, and they often called back one who had
gone to the Princess's apartment. She sent word once,
"I will go if I must" [intending to give herself the
pleasure of coming].
45



Diaries of Court Ladies

The long leaves of the reed are easily bent.
So I will not forcibly persuade it.
But leave it to the wind.
In this way [composing poems] we passed [the
hours] talking idly. Afterwards this lady separated
from the Court and left us. She remembered that
night and sent me word —

That moonless, flowerless winter night
It penetrates my thought and makes me dwell on it —
/ wonder why?

It touched my heart, for I also was thinking of that
night:

In my dreams the tears of that cold night are still frozen.
But these I weep away secretly.
The Princess still called my stepmother by the
name of Kazusa^ — Governor's lady. Father was dis-
pleased that that name was still used after she had
become another man's wife, and he made me write to
her about it:

The name of Asakura in a far-off country.
