| Suma |  |
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At Suma, the melancholy wind was blowing. There was an appealing profusion of flowers in the garden. Genji came out to the gallery from where he had a good view of the coast. Wearing a dark robe loosely tied, he announced himself as a disciple of the Buddha; he slowly intoned a sutra, which was inauspiciously beautiful. From off shore came voices of fishermen raised in song. The barely visible boas were like little seafowl on an utterly lonely sea. He brushed away a tear induced by the calls of wild geese overhead, almost like the sound of splashing oars. His hand against his black rosary was beautiful enough to bring comfort to men who had left their families behind. When he listened to the roar of the wind and the waves at his pillow, he could not stop his tears. In those nights, he woke up still in the dark and plucked a few notes on his koto. During the day, he spent time writing and painting to forget his sorrow.
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