One of the Nō plays is founded on a personification of the Wistaria vine, but it is somewhat more spiritual and remote than the same kind of legend would be with Western nations. A priest, on his way to view the famous Fuji of Tako no Ura, meets a sweet and beautiful young girl, who is soon to turn into the spirit of the Wistaria. She asks for his prayers to assist her soul to enter Paradise. Poor pretty flower! She loves the world, and the beauty and fragrance that are hers; but later, swaying and lithe in clinging purple silks, the long sleeves swinging like the great racemes of honey-scented blooms, she appears to dance her last dance before she vanishes to the happy Nirvana in which the priest’s prayers have won her a place.
So also the Convolvulus, in one word, typifies all that is most brief and beautiful in life. The very essence of poetry is in it, to the Japanese mind, and they never weary of making delicate little verses on the subject, suggesting at least—for that, to them, is more desirable than expressing—the evanescent loveliness of life, and its eternity. One poet, Matsunaga, says—
“Although thy bloom may not outlast the day,
O Morning Glory, would thy heart were mine!
Eternity dwells in thy cup as in
The thousand years that ring the stately Pine.”
A dozen more might be quoted.
The Pine tree (Matsu) symbolizes long life,
