The True Joy Of A Moonlit Night

But, Drawn To Her At That Moment, He Felt A Quiet Like The Voice Of The Rain Flow Over Him. He Knew Well Enough That For Her It Was In Fact No Waste Of Effort, But Somehow The Final Determination That It Was Had The Effect Of Distilling And Purifying The Woman's Existence.

The Woman Was Silent, Her Eyes On The Floor. Shimamura Had Come To A Point Where He Knew He Was Only Parading His Masculine Shamelessness, And Yet It Seemed Likely Enough That The Woman Was Familiar With The Failing And Need Not Be Shocked By It. He Looked At Her. Perhaps It Was The Rich Lashes Of The Downcast Eyes That Made Her Face Seem Warm And Sensuous. She Shook Her Head Very Slightly, And Again A Faint Blush Spread Over Her Face.

They Were Words That Came Out Of Nothing, But They Seemed To Him Somehow Significant. He Muttered Them Over Again.

But A Haiku By Buson Came Into His Mind: 'i Try To Forget This Senile Love; A Chilly Autumn Shower.' The Gloom Only Grew Denser.

Does Pain Go Away And Leave No Trace, Then?’ ‘you Sometimes Even Feel Sentimental For It.