Pine Grove of Young Lovers -
Ever more boldly
flourishing before my gaze,
strands of barken cloth
trail from the small pine of Aze:
oh, Aze the little isle!
He said he would stand
steadfast in the line of tide,
but that lad of mine
spots me amid eighty isles
hidden, and comes a-running.
At this point they wanted to talk but were afraid people would know. And so they left the festival grounds and hid under the pines. Hand in hand and knee aligned with knee, they poured out their hearts and confessed their passion. Once they had released the accumulated humors of their old longing, they broke into repeated smiles at their new happiness. It was the time of jade dew on the twigs, the season of metal wind shearing through trees. Off to the west, where the lambent, glistening cinnamon moon shone down, lay the sandbar destination of the raucous cranes; off to the east, where the ruffling, gusting autumn breeze sang cool in the pines, stood the coppiced hill crossed by the wild geese. The mountain was still and lone, the rock spring old; night moaned sere, and the smoky frost was new.
The nearby mountain drew their gaze to the color of yellow leaves scattering in the woods; the distant sea let them hear only the voice of blue waves thundering on the rocks. To be together in this place tonight: pleasure beyond all pleasure. They were utterly lost in the sweetness of their colloquy and completely forgot that night would soon be over. Suddenly cocks were crowing, dogs were barking — dawn was in the sky, and the day was bright. Caught by surprise, the young couple did not know what to do. Finally, ashamed to be discovered, they changed into pine trees. The youth they called the Wave-Hidden Pine, and the maiden, Pine Shavings. These names were given long ago and have never been altered to the present day.
flourishing before my gaze,
strands of barken cloth
trail from the small pine of Aze:
oh, Aze the little isle!
He said he would stand
steadfast in the line of tide,
but that lad of mine
spots me amid eighty isles
hidden, and comes a-running.
At this point they wanted to talk but were afraid people would know. And so they left the festival grounds and hid under the pines. Hand in hand and knee aligned with knee, they poured out their hearts and confessed their passion. Once they had released the accumulated humors of their old longing, they broke into repeated smiles at their new happiness. It was the time of jade dew on the twigs, the season of metal wind shearing through trees. Off to the west, where the lambent, glistening cinnamon moon shone down, lay the sandbar destination of the raucous cranes; off to the east, where the ruffling, gusting autumn breeze sang cool in the pines, stood the coppiced hill crossed by the wild geese. The mountain was still and lone, the rock spring old; night moaned sere, and the smoky frost was new.
The nearby mountain drew their gaze to the color of yellow leaves scattering in the woods; the distant sea let them hear only the voice of blue waves thundering on the rocks. To be together in this place tonight: pleasure beyond all pleasure. They were utterly lost in the sweetness of their colloquy and completely forgot that night would soon be over. Suddenly cocks were crowing, dogs were barking — dawn was in the sky, and the day was bright. Caught by surprise, the young couple did not know what to do. Finally, ashamed to be discovered, they changed into pine trees. The youth they called the Wave-Hidden Pine, and the maiden, Pine Shavings. These names were given long ago and have never been altered to the present day.
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