Page:The Dial (Volume 68).djvu/249

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KIRI NO MELJIYAMA

A NOH-DRAMA IN JAPANESE SYLLABICS

A noble enters, fanning himself, talking as he crosses the path to the stage:

I AM Kiri no Meijiyama, who was travelling to Senako when in a useless storm my boat was lost, buried in wave-flowers. The storm has vanished, the evening is pleasant, and I have sauntered out, accompanied only by my ancestral swords, to savour the delicious melancholy of the autumn moon.

He pauses, and holds his fan in an attitude.

In the field of heaven the clouds bow their heads,
having fallen asleep, cropping the stars.

cHORUS (waving their fans):

The sky is freckled with shapeless moons,
but over the earth
rises a luminous mist
that is tangled in the branches.

KIRI: The mist is troublesome. I cannot find the path.

cHoRUS: My head is confused with the thick brightness.
⁠Are these ghosts, mingled with the thrill of insect cries?
⁠Are there golden eyes peering?

KIRI: Strange! to see fireflies in the mist!

Over the bridge to the stage have approached an old man, an old woman, and a young girl. They are slightly smaller than one would expect. They move curiously. They now stand motionless, the man and the woman together, the girl behind them. Kiri approaches them as through a mist.

CHORUS: What is this, all surrounded
by fronds of bamboo?
Surely not a hut?
What great fortune for the night!

KIRI: I was not sure, but it seems to be a small hut. The moon—

CHORUS: —silhouettes the bamboo leaves
like shadows on the shoji.