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Though the morning after that snowstorm was clear and bright, I just couldn't help thinking about what had happened the day before. In my heart it seemed as if the snow had not stopped, but was falling still. And the snowflakes seemed to merge into the form of Kiyo's face. How I wished that I could live somewhere where the snow fell every day of the year so that I would never stop thinking of you, Kiyo.
If we were living in Heian times, you would have composed a poem for me, wouldn't you? And I would have had to offer one of my own in reply. I am shocked to think that although I have been learning waka since my childhood, at a time like this I can't set down a single poem to express my feelings. Is it because I lack the talent?
Why do you believe that I'm so happy? Just because I have found someone who is kind enough not to be upset by whatever I say or do, no matter how capricious? That would be the same as thinking that I enjoy treating Kiyo however I choose - and nothing could cause me greater pain than to know that you believe this.
No, what really makes me happy is your gentleness. You were able to see through that whim of mine the other day. You could see how desperate I secretly felt. And without a word of reproach you came with me on that ride through the snow and you fulfilled the dream that I had buried deep inside me with so much embarrassment That is what I mean by your gentleness.
Kiyo, even now, remembering what happened, I feel my body tremble with joy and shame. Here in Japan, we think of the spirit of snow as a woman - the snow fairy. But I remember that in Western fairy tales I read it's always a handsome young man. And so I think of Kiyo as the spirit of snow, so masculine in your uniform. I think of you as overwhelming me. To feel myself dissolve into your beauty and freeze to death in the snow - no fate could be sweeter.
Please be kind enough not to forget to throw this letter into the fire.
If we were living in Heian times, you would have composed a poem for me, wouldn't you? And I would have had to offer one of my own in reply. I am shocked to think that although I have been learning waka since my childhood, at a time like this I can't set down a single poem to express my feelings. Is it because I lack the talent?
Why do you believe that I'm so happy? Just because I have found someone who is kind enough not to be upset by whatever I say or do, no matter how capricious? That would be the same as thinking that I enjoy treating Kiyo however I choose - and nothing could cause me greater pain than to know that you believe this.
No, what really makes me happy is your gentleness. You were able to see through that whim of mine the other day. You could see how desperate I secretly felt. And without a word of reproach you came with me on that ride through the snow and you fulfilled the dream that I had buried deep inside me with so much embarrassment That is what I mean by your gentleness.
Kiyo, even now, remembering what happened, I feel my body tremble with joy and shame. Here in Japan, we think of the spirit of snow as a woman - the snow fairy. But I remember that in Western fairy tales I read it's always a handsome young man. And so I think of Kiyo as the spirit of snow, so masculine in your uniform. I think of you as overwhelming me. To feel myself dissolve into your beauty and freeze to death in the snow - no fate could be sweeter.
Please be kind enough not to forget to throw this letter into the fire.