|Text(Edward G. Seidensticker; The Tale of Genji）|
There was no one, he feared, whom they might now ask to clear away the rank growth. Hearing that the long rains had damaged their garden walls, he sent off others to the city that people from nearby manors see to repairs.
<The Wormwood Patch> P291-45
Wormwood touched the eaves, bindweed had firmly barred the gates. This last would perhaps have given comfortable feelings of security had it not been for the fact that horses and cattle had knocked over the fences and worn paths inside. Still more impolite were the boys who in spring and summer deliberately drove their herds thorough.
<The Wormwood Patch> P297-35
There was a great deal of snow and sleet as winter came. In other gardens it melted, but in hers there were weeds to protect it, until presently one was reminded of White Mountain in Etchu. The princess gazed out at a garden without gardeners.
<The Wind in the Pines> P321-12
I knew that going back to the city as another defeated provincial governor I would not have the means to put my hut in order and clear the weeds from my garden.
<Beneath the Oak> P813-28
He was one of the better-known young gallants, and his intentions were clearly romantic. Could a note thrust from the underbrush in which they themselves lurked strike him as other than clumsy and comically out of date?
<The Eastern Cottage> P966-10
"Are there tangles of grass to hold me back, that I wait
So long in the rain at the eaves of your eastern cottage?"
<A Boat upon the Waters> P1008-10
It did not seem prudent to confer in an exposed position. Tokitaka spread a saddle blanket at a spot backed by a woodcutter's fence and protected by brambles and matted grass. Niou dismounted.
<At Writing Practice> P1059-08
"Though the dew on the autumn moors may have wet your sleeves,
You do wrong, O hunter, to blame our weed-grown lodgings."
<The Broom Tree> P023-40
There are surprisingly pretty ladies wasting away behind tangles of weeds, and hardly anyone even knows of their existence.
<The Safflower> P125-04
It was a lonely, desolate sight that spread before him, like a village deep in the mountains. Only the snow piled on the pine trees seemed warm. The weed-choked gate of which his friend had spoken that rainy night would be such a gate as this.
<Bamboo River> P772-32
"I see that you have not forgotten these weedy precincts. I am reminded of your late father's extraordinary kindness."
<Lodging of weed>
<The Flute> P662-33
"The voices of insects are unchanged this autumn,
Rank though the grasses be round my dewy lodging."
<The Paulownia Court> P007-36
The weeds grew ever higher and the autumn winds tore threateningly at the garden. Only the rays of the moon managed to make their way through the tangles.
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