Sanuki no Suke’s Diary: Days of Imperial Mourning (9)

 

     Finally, July arrived. Everyone was in deep sorrow and hustle, as it was the first anniversary of his passing. On the day of the service, just like the forty-ninth-day memorial last year, there were one hundred accompanying monks. Since the details of the service were the same as before, I shall omit them here.

     Since that time last year, six ladies-in-waiting had remained at the Horikawa-in Residence, serving Her Majesty [the late Emperor's Empress] here.

     "It is truly heartbreaking that we must finally leave. Because we have served here in this way, with the start of each new month, we have been counting down the days until the nineteenth, eagerly awaiting your visits for the monthly memorials. Knowing that it is all over now makes this moment truly painful,"

the six of them said to each other, weeping uncontrollably. After they had wept their hearts out, my sister, Kenshi, rose and left.

     The next day, a lady-in-waiting named Izumo, one of the six, composed this tanka poem and tied it to the pampas grass in the northern courtyard:

Now, as we part ways

With the end of this autumn evening,

Not only are my sleeves wet with tears,

But the plumes of pampas grass are also damp with dew.

     Even just hearing of her gesture—of her phrasing her grief and tying it to the pampas grass—fills me with profound sadness.