The evening of the Festival of Stars Is fast approaching.
But, alas, when shall I be able To see you face to face?
“When autumn comes, Surely I shall come,”
So you have promised, And that autumn begins this very night.
The first autumn wind rises And wrings my heart tonight.
Thinking of you, my beloved, I whisper to the flowers.
O Heavenly River! If only my love like thine Need not be hidden from human eyes,
I shall not lament.
There is a means of Cleaving stones and cutting steel,
But there is no way of damming The surging waves of the human heart.
↑According to an old legend, on the right bank of the Milky Way there dwelt a weaver, Vega, who made garments for the offspring of God. One day God took compassion on her loneliness, and gave her in marriage to a herdboy, Aquila, who dwelt on the opposite bank. Whereupon the Weaver began to grow slack in her work, and God in his anger made her recross the river, only allowing her to meet her husband once a year on the seventh night of the seventh moon, known as the Festival of Stats.
1908