6

On the evening of the full moon, not yet risen, she sat near the veranda of her chapel meditatively invoking the holy name. Two or three young nuns were arranging flowers before the holy images. The sounds of the nunnery, so far from the ordinary world, the clinking of the sacred vessels and the murmur of holy water, were enough to induce tears.

Genji paid one of his frequent visits. “What a clamor of insects you do have!” He joined her, very softly and solemnly, in the invocation to Amita~bha.

None was brighter and clearer among the insects than the bell cricket, swinging into its song.*

“They all have their good points, but Her Majesty+ seems to prefer the pine cricket. She sent some of her men a great distance to bring them in from the moors, but when she had them in her garden only a very few of them sang as sweetly for her as they had sung in the wilds. One would expect them to be as durable as pines, but in fact they seem to have short lives. They sing very happily off in forests and mountains where no one hears them, and that seems unsociable of them. These bell crickets of yours are so bright and cheerful.”

“The autumn is a time of deprivation,

I have thought—and yet have loved this cricket.”

She spoke very softly and with a quiet, gentle elegance.

“What can you mean,'deprivation'?

“Although it has chosen to leave its grassy dwelling,

It cannot, this lovely insect, complain of neglect.”

He called for a koto and treated her to a rare concert. She quite forgot her beads. The moon having come forth in all its radiance, he sat gazing up at it, lost in thoughts of his own. What a changeable, uncertain world it is, he was thinking. His koto seemed to plead in sadder tones than usual.

Prince Hotaru, his brother, came calling, having guessed that on such an evening there would be music. Yu~giri was with him, and they were well and nobly attended. The sound of the koto led them immediately to the princess's rooms.

“Please do not call it a concert; but in my boredom I thought I might have a try at the koto I have so long neglected. Here I am playing for myself. It was good of you to hear and to come.”

He invited the prince inside.

One after another the high courtiers came calling. There was to have been a moon-viewing fete at the palace, but it had been canceled, to their very great disappointment. Then had come word that people were gathering at Rokujo~.

There were judgments upon the relative merits of the insect songs.

“One is always moved by the full moon,” said Genji, as instrument after instrument joined the concert,” but somehow the moon this evening takes me to other worlds. Now that Kashiwagi is no longer with us I find that everything reminds me of him. Something of the joy, the luster, has gone out of these occasions. When we were talking of the moods of nature, the flowers and the birds, he was the one who had interesting and sensitive things to say.”

The sound of his own koto had brought him to tears. He knew that the princess, inside her blinds, would have heard his remarks about Ka-shiwagi.

The emperor too missed Kashiwagi on nights when there was music.

Genji suggested that the whole night be given over to admiring the bell cricket. He had just finished his second cup of wine, however, when a message came from the Reizei emperor. Disappointed at the sudden cancellation of the palace fete, Ko~bai and Shikibu no Tayu~* had appeared at the Reizei Palace, bringing with them some of the more talented poets of the day. They had heard that Yu~giri and the others were at Rokujo~.

“It does not forget, the moon of the autumn night,

A corner remote from that realm above the clouds.

“Do please come, if you have no other commitments.”

Even though he in fact had few commitments these days and the Reizei emperor was living in quiet retirement, Genji seldom went visiting. It was sad that the emperor should have found it necessary to send for him. Despite the suddenness of the invitation he immediately began making ready.

“In your cloud realm the moonlight is as always,

And here we see that autumn means neglect.”

It was not a remarkable poem, but it was honest, speaking of past intimacy and recent neglect. The messenger was offered wine and richly rewarded.