The Star Lovers

One of the most romantic of the old Japanese festivals is the Festival of Tanabata, the Weaving Lady. It takes place on the seventh day of the seventh month, and on this occasion it was customary to place freshly cut bamboos either on the roofs of houses or to fix them in the ground close beside them. Coloured strips of paper were attached to these bamboos, and upon every strip of paper was a poem in praise of Tanabata and her husband Hikoboshi, such as: "As Tanabata slumbers with her long sleeves rolled up, until the reddening of the dawn, do not, O storks of the river-shallows, awaken her by your cries." This festival will more readily be understood when we have described the legend in connection with it.

The God of the Firmament had a lovely daughter, by name, and she spent her time in weaving for her august father. One day, while she sat at her loom, she chanced to see a handsome lad leading an ox, and she immediately fell in love with him. Tanabata's father, reading her secret thoughts, speedily consented to their marriage. Unfortunately, however, they loved "not wisely, but too well," with the result that Tanabata neglected her weaving, and Hikoboshi's ox was allowed to wander at large over the High Plain of Heaven. The God of the Firmament became extremely angry, and commanded that these too ardent lovers should henceforth be separated by the Celestial River. On the seventh night of the seventh month, provided the weather was favourable, a great company of birds formed a bridge across the[Pg 127] river, and by this means the lovers were able to meet. Their all too brief visit was not even a certainty, for if there were rain the Celestial River would become too wide for even a great bridge of magpies to span, and the lovers would be compelled to wait another weary year before there was even a chance of meeting each other again.

No wonder that on the Festival of the Weaving Maiden little children should sing, "Tenki ni nari" ("Oh, weather, be clear!"). Love laughs at locksmiths in our own country, but the Celestial River in flood is another matter. When the weather is fine and the Star Lovers meet each other after a weary year's waiting it is said that the stars, possibly Lyra and Aquila, shine with five different colours—blue, green, red, yellow, and white—and that is why the poems are written on paper of these colours.
The Robe of Feathers[1]

"Oh, magic strains that fill our ravish'd ears!
The fairy sings, and from the cloudy spheres,
Chiming in unison, the angels' lutes,
Tabrets, and cymbals, and sweet silv'ry flutes,
Ring through the heav'n that glows with purple hues,
As when Someiro's western slope endues
The tints of sunset, while the azure wave
From isle to isle the pine-clad shores doth lave.
From Yukishima's slope—a beauteous storm—
Whirl down the flow'rs: and still that magic form,
Those snowy pinions, flutt'ring in the light,
Ravish our souls with wonder and delight."
Ha-Goromo. (Trans. by B. H. Chamberlain.)

It was spring-time, and along Mio's pine-clad shore there came a sound of birds. The blue sea danced and[Pg 128] sparkled in the sunshine, and Hairukoo, a fisherman, sat down to enjoy............