Life has a way of becoming more stubborn the more you hate it I find it hard to

Life has a way of becoming more stubborn the more you

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“I have lived too long. Life has a way of becoming more stubborn the more you hate it. I find it hard to forgive my older lady for leaving me behind, and though I know it is wrong of me I am resentful of the whole wide world.” * She was becoming querulous, pouring forth the complaints as they came to her; but his efforts to comfort her were on the whole successful. Her hair still had traces of its youthful beauty, and her forehead, now shorn, seemed younger than before, and even somewhat distinguished. Overcome with longing for Oigimi, he asked why she could not have stayed with him even thus, as a nun. He might at least have had the comfort of quiet, leisurely conversation. Though the old woman was an improbable object for envy, he was somehow envious of her. He pulled her curtain slightly aside, that she might seem a little nearer. She really was very old, and yet her speech and manner aroused little of the revulsion one expects from advanced age. She must once have been a woman of considerable beauty. Her face was contorted with sorrow. “Tears came first. I should have flung myself into A stream of tears that would not have left me behind.” “But that, of course, would have made the sin graver,” said Kaoru. “People do sometimes reach the far shore, I suppose, but everything considered I doubt that you would have succeeded. We would not want to have lost you in midstream. No, you must remind yourself how empty and useless it all is. “Deep though one plunges into the river of tears, One comes upon occasional snags of remembrance. “When, I wonder, and where will there be relief?” But he knew the answer: never and nowhere. He did not want to leave, though it was evening. But an unscheduled night's lodging might arouse suspicions. Presently he set out for the city. 6 She told the other women of his remarks, and her own grief was beyond consoling. She found them engrossed in preparations for their departure, oblivious to the incongruity their twisted old figures emphasized; and her nun's robes seemed drabber for all the happy confusion. “And there they are, so busy getting ready, The Tale of Genji 5 643
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And wet are the sleeves of the solitary fishwife.” Nakanokimi answered: “Is it drier, my sleeve, than the brine-wet sleeve of the fishwife? Sodden it is, from the waves upon which it floats.* “I do not expect to take to this new life. I may well be back after I have given it a try, and so I do not really feel that I am going away. We will meet again. But I do not like the thought of leaving you here by yourself for even a little while. Nuns do not have to cut themselves off completely, you know. Do as all of them do—come and see me occasionally.” Affection welled up as she spoke. She had arranged to leave behind such of her sister's combs and brushes as she thought a nun could use.
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  • Spring '17
  • NaomiFukumori
  • Japanese, ........., The Tale of Genji, Murasaki Shikibu

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