assist are such true and faithful lovers of them! But, in spite of the absence of the fiction of personality—which forms the bulk of our own flower folk-lore—and partly, also, because the Japanese regard each other and their own egos in the same way (for instance, there are almost no personal pronouns in use in the language), so that the human entity is only a drop in the vast sea of divine entity—there are some lovely elusive thoughts, of spiritual ideas, colouring every object in Nature, giving rainbow tints even to the muddy waters of the ditch. Things are endowed with qualities, excellences, shades and glamours, instead of being simply transformed into men and women, gods and goddesses.
For instance, the Wistaria is likened not so much to a particular woman as to the lovely abstract ideal of one. Clinging, drooping, graceful, robed in the delicate pale hues a highly bred lady chooses, fragrant and bounteously sweet, she yet—although she is as her lord would have her, helpless and dependent on his (the sturdy Pine’s) support—can still with tenacious tendrils hold the house of his love together, bind fast the framework of home. It rather spoils the pretty notion to remember that the lovely Fuji[1] is supposed to be over-fond of saké, and that she will be grateful if you will throw the dregs from your wine-cup on her roots!
- ↑ Fuji no hana is the Japanese name for Wistaria and does not here refer to the mountain.
