A Damsel Crossing a Bridge
Across the bridge, with scarlet lacquer glowing,
That o’er the Katashiha’s stream is laid,
All trippingly a tender girl is going,
In bodice blue and crimson skirt arrayed.
None to escort her: would that I were knowing
Whether alone she sleeps on virgin bed,
Or if some spouse has won her by his wooing:—
Tell me her house! I’ll ask the pretty maid!
Anon.