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- Genji Monogatari
Not knowing the heart of the wave that comes to shore, for the jeweled weed at Waka bay to bend down would be a light thing indeed
For the jeweled weed of Waka bay to bend without knowing the heart of the wave that reaches it would be a light thing indeed.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
At the break of dawn, lost though I am in a sky where the mist is thick, here is the gate of the one I love, hard to pass on by
At daybreak, lost in a sky thick with mist, I come to her gate and find I cannot pass it by.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
If you stand and find this fence of mist hard to pass and go by our gate, then a bolt made of grasses would be no hindrance to you
If you stop and say this fence of mist is hard to pass, then surely a gate barred only with grass could be no hindrance at all.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
I have not yet seen the root, and still I hold dear this grass of the tie on Musashi plain, where I weary of parting the dew
I have not yet seen the root, and still I hold dear this kindred grass of Musashi plain, where I grow weary of parting the dew.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
Not knowing the cause that you would lay it upon, I cannot be sure— just what sort of grass is it that I am the tie of here
Not knowing what cause you would lay it to, I am left uncertain—just what kind of grass am I said to be kin to?
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
Together we left the great palace mountain, yet you will not show me where you go in to—you are the moon of the sixteenth night
We came out from the palace together, and still you will not show me where you go in—you, moon of the sixteenth night.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
The light that falls on every village alike we see, but who is it that goes seeking Irusa, the hill where the moon goes in
We see the light that falls on every village without distinction—but who goes looking for Irusa, the hill the moon slips behind?
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
How many times now have I given way before your unbroken hush, trusting that you have not said the words: do not speak to me
How often have I been defeated by your silence, holding on to the one hope that you have never told me to be quiet.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
To strike the bell and so close the matter would be more than I can do, and yet an answer comes hard— which, to me, makes little sense
To ring the bell and close the matter is more than I can bring myself to do, and yet answering comes hard—which makes little sense even to me.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
Though I know it well, that not to speak may say more than speaking would say, to be shut out like this is a hard thing to bear indeed
I know well enough that silence can say more than speech, and still to be shut out like this is hard to bear.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
I have not yet seen any sign that the evening mist will ever clear, and here is the rain at dusk drawing out more gloom in me
I have seen no sign yet that the evening mist will lift, and now the rain at nightfall draws out still more gloom.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
Think of this village waiting for the moon on a night that will not clear, even if you do not gaze with the same heart as we do
Think of the house that waits for a moon on a night that will not clear—even if you do not watch the sky with the same heart.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
The icicles hung at the eaves where morning sun strikes have come untied, and why then should the ice there stay bound and hold itself closed
The icicles at the eaves are loosening in the morning sun—so why does that ice stay bound and refuse to melt?
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
The one who looks on that snow fallen on a head grown old with the years wets, no less than he does, his own sleeve on this morning here
The one who looks at that snow settled on an aged head wets his own sleeve this morning no less than the old man does.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
That Chinese robe—and since your heart is hard to me, my sleeve goes on so, doing nothing else at all but growing wet and wetter
I send this robe; and since your heart is hard toward me, my sleeve does nothing but grow wetter and wetter.
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu
It is not a hue that draws the heart to itself, so why should it be that I have let my own sleeve touch this last-picked safflower
It is not a color that draws the heart—so why did I ever let my sleeve touch this last-picked safflower?
Genji Monogatari - Murasaki Shikibu