A more literal translation would be: "In the Sai-no-Kawara ('Dry bed of the River of Souls') and in the evening when waiting for the loved one, 'Koiski, Koiski' becomes a mountain." There is a delicate pun here,--a play on the word Koishi, which, as pronounced, though not as written, may mean either "a small stone," or "longing to see." In the bed of the phantom river, Sai-no-Kawa, the ghosts of children are obliged to pile up little stones, the weight of which increases so as to tax their strength to the utmost. There is a reference here also to a verse in the Buddhist wasan of Jizo, describing the crying of the children for their parents: "Chichi koishi! haha koishi!" (See Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan, vol. i. pp. 59-61.)

2. Clearest-sighted,--that is, in worldly matters.]

Coldly seen from without our love looks utter folly:
Who never has felt mayoi never could understand!

Countless the men must be who dwell in three thousand worlds;
Yet among them all is none worthy to change for mine.[1]

However fickle I seem, my heart is never unfaithful
Out of the slime itself, spotless the lotos grows.[2]

So that we stay together, even the Hell of the Blood Lake--
Even the Mountain of Swords--will signify nothing at all.[3]

[1.

San-zen sekai ni
Otoko wa aredo,
Nushi ni mi-kayeru
Hito wa nai.

"San-zen sekai," the three thousand worlds, is a common Buddhist expression. Literally translated, the above song runs: "Three-thousand-worlds-in men are, but lover-to-exchange person is not."

2. The familiar Buddhist simile is used more significantly here than the Western reader might suppose from the above rendering. These are supposed to be the words either of a professional singing-girl or of a joro. Her calling is derisively termed a doro-midzu kagyo ("foul-water occupation"); and her citation of the famous Buddhist comparison in self-defense is particularly, and pathetically, happy.

3.

Chi-no-Ike-Jigoku mo,
Tsuragi-no-Yama mo,
Futari-dzure nara,
Itoi 'a senu.

The Hell of the Blood-Lake is a hell for women; and the Mountain of Swords is usually depicted in Buddhist prints as a place of infernal punishment for men in especial.]

Not yet indeed is my body garbed in the ink-black habit;--
But as for this heart bereaved, already it is a nun.[1]

My hair, indeed, is uncut; but my heart has become a religious;
A nun it shall always be till the hour I meet him again.

But even the priest or nun is not always exempt from the power of mayoi:--

I am wearing the sable garb,--and yet, through illusion of longing,
Ever I lose my way,--knowing not whither or where!