Prevod

This, too, is a tale of long ago. There was a man named Michikiyo, deputy governor of Tosa, who composed poems, steeped himself in such tales as Genji and Sagoromo, and wandered about admiring blossoms and gazing at the moon. Being such a devotee of elegant pursuits, he was invited by the Go-Tokudaiji Minister of the Left to join him in viewing the blossoms at the palace. “Be sure to come,” the minister told him. Delighted at his good fortune, Michikiyo set off at once in his battered carriage. On the way, he saw two or three carriages approaching from behind and, certain that this must be the Minister of the Left, lifted the rear blind of his carriage. “Oh, how tiresome! How tiresome! Hurry, hurry along!” he called, opening his fan and beckoning with it. But it was the Regent, on his way somewhere. Seeing Michikiyo beckon, one of the Regent’s mounted guards galloped up and slashed down the rear blind of his carriage. Michikiyo was so flustered that he tumbled out through the front, losing his court cap as he fell. It was a most pitiable sight. Perhaps those who carry their passion for refinement too far have something of the fool about them.