The seven treasures
Prized by man in this world-
What are they to me?
Furuhi, the dear white pearl
That was born to us,
With dawn would not leave our bed,
But, standing or lying,
Played and romped with us.
With the evening star,
Linking hands with us,
He would say
'Come to bed, father and mother,
Let me sleep between you,
Like sweet daphne, triple-stalked.'
Such were his pretty words.
For good or ill
We should see him grow to manhood-
Or so we trusted,
Asin a great ship.
Then, beyond all thug,
Blowing hard, a sudden crosswind
Of illness
Overwhelmed him.
Lacking skill and knowing no cure,
With white hemp I tied my sleeves,
Took my mirror in my hand
And, lifting up my eyes,
To the gods in heaven I prayed;
My brow laid on the ground,
I did reverence tot he gods of the earth.
"Be he ill or be he well,
It is in your power, O gods.'
Thus I clamoured in my prayers.
Yet no good came of it,
For he wasted away,
Each dawn spoke less,
Till his life was ended.
I stood, I jumped, I stamped,
I shrieked, I lay on the ground,
I beat my breast and wailed.
Yet the child I held so tight
Has flown beyond my clasp
Is this the way of the world?
- Yamanoue Okura (ca660-733)