Those sedges in light-flooded Naniwa —
you spoke as intimately as their clinging roots,
you said it would run deep into years, it would last long,
so I gave you my heart, as spotless
as a clear mirror.
From that day,
unlike the seaweed that sways with the waves,
I did not have a heart that goes this way and that,
I trusted as one trusts a great ship.
But has a god, a rock-smasher, put us apart?
Or someone of this world interfered?
You used to come but you no longer do,
and no messenger bearing the catalpa branch appears.
Because of this there's nothing I can do.
All through the night black as leopard-flower seeds,
through the day till the red-rayed sun sets,
I grieve, but there's no sign,
I brood, but I don't know what to do.
They speak of " weak women " — I am just that,
weeping loudly like a child,
I go back and forth, waiting for your messenger —
will all this be in vain?

ENVOY

If at the outset you hadn't said " It would last long, " and made me trust you, would I have
thoughts like this?