26

Fujitsubo was making preparations for a solemn reading of the Lotus Sutra, to follow memorial services on the anniversary of the old emperor's death. There was a heavy snowfall on the anniversary, early in the Eleventh Month.

This poem came from Genji:

“We greet once more the day of the last farewell,

And when, in what snows, may we hope for a day of meeting?”

It was a sad day for everyone.

This was her reply:

“To live these months without him has been sorrow.

But today seems to bring a return of the days of old.”

The hand was a casual one, and yet—perhaps he wished it so—he thought it uniquely graceful and dignified. Though he could not expect from her the bright, Modern sort of elegance, he thought that there were few who could be called her rivals. But today, with its snow and its memories, he could not think of her. He lost himself in prayer.