The ‘ Nishikigi ’ are wands used as a love charm . ‘ Hosonuno ’ is the name of a local cloth which the woman weaves . Narrow is the cloth of Kefu , but wild is that river , that torrent of the hills , between the beloved and the bride . The cloth she had woven is faded , the thousand one hundred nights were night-trysts watched out in vain . I At last they forget , they forget . The wands are no longer offered , The custom is faded away . The narrow cloth of Kefu Will not meet over the breast . ‘ Tis the story of Hosonuno , This is the tale : These bodies , having no weft , Even now are not come together . Truly a shameful story , A tale to bring shame on the gods . We have spent the whole day until dusk Pushing aside the grass From the over-grown way at Kefu , And we are not yet come to the cave . O you there , cutting grass on the hill , Please set your mind on this matter . ‘ You 'd be asking where the dew is ‘ While the frost 's lying here on the road . ‘ Who 'd tell you that now ? ’ Very well then do n't tell us , But be sure we will come to the cave . And storms ; trees giving up their leaf , Spotted with sudden showers . Autumn ! our feet are clogged In the dew-drenched , entangled leaves . The perpetual shadow is lonely , The mountain shadow is lying alone . The owl cries out from the ivies That drag their weight on the pine . Among the orchids and chrysanthemum flowers The hiding fox is now lord of that love-cave , Nishidzuka , That is dyed like the maple 's leaf . They have left us this thing for a saying . That pair have gone into the cave . The three years are over and past : All that is but an old story . Look there to the cave Beneath the stems of the Suzuki . From under the shadows of the love-grass , See , see how they come forth and appear For an instant .... Illusion ! Kiri , hatari , cho , cho , Kiri , hatari , cho , cho . The cricket sews on at his old rags , With all the new grass in the field ; sho , Churr , isho , like the whir of a loom : churr . Let be , they make grass-cloth in Kefu , Kefu , the land 's end , matchless in the world . The good priest himself would say : Even if we weave the cloth , Hosonuno , And set up the charm-sticks For a thousand , a hundred nights , Even then our beautiful desire will not pass , Nor fade nor die out . That we may acquire power , Even in our faint substance , We will show forth even now , And though it be but in a dream , Our form of repentance .There he is carrying wands , And she has no need to be asked . See her within the cave , With a cricket-like noise of weaving . The grass-gates and the hedge are between them ; That is a symbol . Night has already come on .Love 's thoughts are heaped high within him , As high as the charm-sticks , As high as the charm-sticks , once coloured , Now fading , lie heaped in this cave . And he knows of their fading . He says : I lie a body , unknown to any other man , Like old wood buried in moss . It were a fit thing That I should stop thinking the love-thoughts . The charm-sticks fade and decay , And yet , The rumour of our love Takes foot and moves through the world . We had no meeting But tears have , it seems , brought out a bright blossom Upon the dyed tree of love . A hundred nights and more Of twisting , encumbered sleep , And now they make it a ballad , Not for one year or for two only But until the days lie deep As the sand 's depth at Kefu , Until the year 's end is red with Autumn , Red like these love-wands , A thousand nights are in vain . And I stand at this gate-side . You grant no admission , you do not show yourself Until I and my sleeves are faded . By the dew-like gemming of tears upon my sleeve , Why will you grant no admission ? And we all are doomed to pass , You , and my sleeves and my tears . And you did not even know when three years had come to an end . Cruel , ah cruel ! The charm-sticks .... Shall I ever at last see into that room of hers , which no other sight has traversed ? How glorious the sleeves of the dance , That are like snow-whirls ! Tread out the dance and bring music . This dance is for Nishikigi . For the tokens between lover and lover : It is a reflecting in the wine-cup . Ari-aki , The dawn ! Come , we are out of place ; Let us go ere the light comes .We ask you , do not awake , We all will wither away , The wands and this cloth of a dream . Now you will come out of sleep , You tread the border and nothing Awaits you : no , all this will wither away . There is nothing here but this cave in the field 's midst . To-day 's wind moves in the pines ; A wild place , unlit , and unfilled . HAGOROMO The plot of the play ‘ Hagoromo , the Feather-mantle ’ is as follows . The priest finds the Hagoromo , the magical feather-mantle of a Tennin , an aerial spirit or celestial dancer , hanging upon a bough . She demands its return . He argues with her , and finally promises to return it , if she will teach him her dance or part of it . She accepts the offer . The Chorus explains the dance as symbolical of the daily changes of the moon . The words about ‘ three , five and fifteen ’ refer to the number of nights in the moon 's changes . In the finale , the Tennin is supposed to disappear like a mountain slowly hidden in mist . The play shows the relation of the early Noh to the God-dance . I shall not be out of memory Of the mountain road by Kiyomi , Nor of the parted grass by that bay , Nor of the far-seen pine-waste Of Miwo of wheat stalks . Let us go according to custom . Take hands against the wind here , for it presses the clouds and the sea . Those men who were going to fish are about to return without launching . Wait a little , is it not spring ? will not the wind be quiet ? this wind is only the voice of the lasting pine - trees , ready for stillness . See how the air is soundless , or would be , were it not for the waves . There now , the fishermen are putting out with even the smallest boats . Her coronetjewelled as with the dew of tears , even the flowers that decorated her hair drooping , and fading , the whole chain of weaknessesof the dying Tennin can be seen actually before the eyes . Sorrow ! Enviable colour of breath , wonder of clouds that fade along the sky that was our accustomed dwelling ; hearing the sky-bird , accustomed and well accustomed , hearing the voices grow fewer , the wild geese fewer and fewer along the highways of air , how deep her longing to return . Plover and seagull are on the waves in the offing . Do they go , or do they return ? She reaches out for the very blowing of the spring wind against heaven . The young maid now is arrayed ; she assumes the curious mantle ; watch how she moves in the dance of the rainbow-feathered garment . It seems that she dances . Thus was the dance of pleasure , Suruga dancing , brought to the sacred east . Thus was it when the lords of the everlasting Trod the world , They being of old our friends . Upon ten sides their sky is without limit , They have named it on this account , ‘ the enduring . ’ The white kiromo , the black kiromo , Three , five into fifteen , The figure that the Tennin is dividing . There are heavenly nymphs , Amaotome ,One for each night of the month , And each with her deed assigned . The spring mist is widespread abroad ; so perhaps the wild olive 's flower will blossom in the infinitely unreachable moon . Her flowery head - ornament is putting on colour ; this truly is sign of the spring . Not sky is here , but the beauty ; and even here comes the heavenly , wonderful wind . O blow , shut the accustomed path of the clouds . O , you in the form of a maid , grant us the favour of your delaying . The pine-waste of Miwo puts on the colour of spring . The bay of Kiyomi lies clear before the snow upon Fuji . Are not all these presages of the spring ? There are but few ripples beneath the piny wind . It is quiet along the shore . There is naught but a fence of jewels between the earth and the sky , and the gods within and without ,beyond and beneath the stars , and the moon unclouded by her lord , and we who are born of the sun . This alone intervenes , here where the moon is unshadowed , here in Nippon , the sun 's field . Nor is this rock of earth over-much worn by the brushing of that feather - mantle , the feathery skirt of the stars : rarely , how rarely . There is a magic song from the east , the voices of many and many : and flute and shae , filling the space beyond the cloud 's edge , seven-stringed ; dance filling and filling . The red sun blots on the sky the line of the colour - drenched mountains . The flowers rain in a gust ; it is no racking storm that comes over this green moor , which is afloat , as it would seem , in these waves . Wonderful is the sleeve of the white cloud , whirling such snow here . Hence and for ever this dancing shall be called , ‘ a revel in the east . ’ Many are the robes thou hast , now of the sky 's colour itself , and now a green garment . If you pray with the prayer of ‘ Exeat ’ he will be thankful , and you need not be aware of his name . They say that prayer can be heard for even the grass and the plants , for even the sand and the soil here ; and they will surely hear it , if you pray for an unknown man . You will think it very strange for a priest to do this ; but even Buddha has the sharp sword of Mida , and Aijen Miowo has arrows , and Tamon , taking his long spear , throws down the evil spirits . — is excellent . Good feeling and keeping order are much more excellent than the love of Bosatsu . ‘ I think of these matters and know little of anything else . It is from my own heart that I am lost , wandering . But if I begin talking I shall keep on talking until dawn . Go to bed , good father ; I will sleep too . ’ He seemed to be going to his bedroom , but suddenly his figure disappeared , and the cottage became a field of grass . The priest passes the night under the pine trees . There is a rustling of boughs and leaves . While Yoshitsugu was going along in the fields and on the mountains we set many spies to take him . At this word they rushed in , one after another . They seized the torches ; it seemed as if gods could not face them . Ushiwaka stood unafraid ; he seized a small sword and fought like a lion in earnest , like a tiger rushing , like a bird swooping . He fought so cleverly that he felled the thirteen who opposed him ; many were wounded besides . They fled without swords or arrows . Then Kumasaka said , ‘ Are you the devil ? Is it a god who has struck down these men with such ease ? Perhaps you are not a man . However , dead men take no plunder , and I 'd rather leave this truck of Yoshitsugu 's than my corpse . ’ So he took his long spear and was about to make off . What can he do , that young chap , if I ply my secret arts freely ? Be he god or devil , I will grasp him and grind him . I will offer his body as sacrifice to those whom he has slain . So he drew back , and holding his long spear against his side he hid himself behind the door and stared at the young lad . Ushiwaka beheld him , and holding his sword at his side he crouched at a little distance . Kumasaka waited likewise . They both waited , alertly ; then Kumasaka stepped forth swiftly with his left foot , and struck out with the long spear . It would have run through an iron wall . Ushiwaka parried it lightly , swept it away , left volted . Kumasaka followed and again lunged out with the spear , and Ushiwaka parried the spear-blade quite lightly . Then Kumasaka turned the edge of his spear-blade towards Ushiwaka and slashed at him , and Ushiwaka leaped to the right . Kumasaka lifted his spear and the two weapons were twisted together . Ushiwaka drew back his blade . Kumasaka swung with his spear . Ushiwaka led up and stepped into shadow . Kumasaka tried to find him , and Ushiwaka slit through the back-chink of his armour ; this seemed the end of his course , and he was wroth to be slain by such a young boy . — seemed to pierce ; his heart failed ; weakness o'ercame him . He vanished like a dew . And so saying , he disappeared among the shades of the pine tree at Akasaka , and night fell . May as well be a priest with black sleeves . Now having left the world in sorrow , I look upon my withered shape . There is no one to pity me now . Although I have heard her voice , The pity is that I cannot see her . And I have let her go by Without divulging my name . This is the true love of a father . Do not call out the name he had in his glory . You will move the bad blood in his heart ,I am angry . I go on living here , hated by the people in power . A blind man without his staff , I am deformed , and therefore speak evil ; excuse me . Though my eyes are dark I understand the thoughts of another . I understand at a word . The wind comes down from the pine trees on the mountain , and snow comes down after the wind . The dream tells of my glory , I am loth to wake from the dream . I hear the waves running in the evening tide , as when I was with Heike . Shall I act out the old ballad ? At first I was angry that my friends would no longer come near me . But now I have come to a time when I could not believe that even a child of my own would seek me out .Upon all the boats of the men of Heike 's faction Kagekiyo was the fighter most in call , Brave were his men , cunning sailors , And now even the leader Is worn out and dull as a horse . Kagekiyo cried , ‘ You are haughty . ’ His armour caught every turn of the sun . He drove them four ways before them . He thought , how easy this killing . He rushed with his spear-haft gripped under his arm . He cried out , ‘ I am Kagekiyo of the Heike . ’ He rushed on to take them . He pierced through the helmet vizards of Miyonoya . Miyonoya fled twice , and again ; and Kagekiyo cried , ‘ You shall not escape me ! ’ He leaped and wrenched off his helmet . ‘ Eya ! ’ The vizard broke and remained in his hand and Miyonoya still fled afar , and afar , and he looked back crying in terror , ‘ How terrible , how heavy your arm ! ’ And Kagekiyo called at him , ‘ How tough the shaft of your neck is ! ’ And they both laughed out over the battle , and went off each his own way . These were the deeds of old , but oh , to tell them ! To be telling them over now in his wretched condition . His life in the world is weary , he is near the end of his course . ‘ Go back , ’ he would say to his daughter . ‘ Pray for me when I am gone from the world , for I shall then count upon you as we count on a lamp in the darkness ... we who are blind . ’ ‘ I will stay , ’ she said . Then she obeyed him , and only one voice is left . We tell this for the remembrance . Thus were the parent and child .