flower’s misfortune. Go into the street and ask any jinrikisha runner or even beggar whom you come across what he thinks about the cherry-blossom; you will be told by him exactly what you think about it, not less, not more. I am ready to say that there is only one occasion during a long run of three hundred and sixty-five days that we, low and high, poor and rich, perfectly agree with one another, in the moment when we are looking up to the cherry-blossom. Beneath the cherry-blossom we return at once to our first simplicity. Without that archaic strength we should never be able to hold up our lives and world.
I have heard many people could not understand why the plum-blossom must bloom at such an early season, when it even trembles on the naked branch, and why the maple leaves must turn red, like the showy kimono of a gay daughter in carnival, before they enter into wintry rest; but anybody's heart of hearts always awakens at once when he sees the cherry-blossom in bloom, indeed, the spring of his soul and the spring of the flower call to each other. We love it, too, because it is the Japanese
