ADAPTED BY FRANK RINDER
Shokujo, daughter of the Sun, dwelt with her father on the banks of the
Silver River of Heaven, which we call the Milky Way. She was a lovely maiden,
graceful and winsome, and her eyes were tender as the eyes of a dove. Her loving
father, the Sun, was much troubled because Shokujo did not share in the youthful
pleasures of the daughters of the air. A soft melancholy seemed to brood over
her, but she never wearied of working for the good of others, and especially did
she busy herself at her loom; indeed she came to be called the Weaving
Princess.
The Sun bethought him that if he could give his daughter in marriage, all
would be well; her dormant love would be kindled into a flame that would
illumine her whole being and drive out the pensive spirit which oppressed her.
Now there lived, hard by, a right honest herdsman, named Kingen, who [pg 145] tended his cows on
the borders of the Heavenly Stream. The Sun-King proposed to bestow his daughter
on Kingen, thinking in this way to provide for her happiness and at the same
time keep her near him. Every star beamed approval, and there was joy in the
heavens.
The love that bound Shokujo and Kingen to one another was a great love. With
its awakening, Shokujo forsook her former occupations, nor did she any longer
labor industriously at the loom, but laughed, and danced, and sang, and made
merry from morn till night. The Sun-King was sorely grieved, for he had not
foreseen so great a change. Anger was in his eyes, and he said, "Kingen is
surely the cause of this, therefore I will banish him to the other side of the
River of Stars."
When Shokujo and Kingen heard that they were to be parted, and could
thenceforth, in accordance with the King's decree, meet but once a year, and
that upon the seventh night of the seventh month, their hearts were heavy. The
leave-taking between them was a sad one, and great tears stood in Shokujo's eyes
as she bade farewell to her lover-husband. In answer to the behest of the
Sun-King, myriads of magpies flocked together, and, outspreading their wings,
formed a bridge on which Kingen crossed the River of Heaven. The moment that his
foot touched the opposite bank, the birds dispersed with noisy chatter, leaving
poor Kingen a solitary exile. He looked wistfully towards the weeping figure of
Shokujo, who stood on the threshold of her now desolate home.
Long and weary were the succeeding days, spent as they were by Kingen in
guiding his oxen and by Shokujo in plying her shuttle. The Sun-King was
gladdened by his daughter's industry. When night fell and the heavens were
bright with countless lights, the lovers were wont, standing on the banks of the
celestial stream, to waft across it sweet and tender messages, while each
uttered a prayer for the speedy coming of the wondrous night.
The long-hoped-for month and day drew nigh, and the hearts of the lovers were
troubled lest rain should fall; for the Silver River, full at all times, is at
that season often in flood, and the bird-bridge might be swept away. [pg 146]
The day broke cloudlessly bright. It waxed and waned, and one by one the
lamps of heaven were lighted. At nightfall the magpies assembled, and Shokujo,
quivering with delight, crossed the slender bridge and fell into the arms of her
lover. Their transport of joy was as the joy of the parched flower, when the
raindrop falls upon it; but the moment of parting soon came, and Shokujo
sorrowfully retraced her steps.
Year follows year, and the lovers still meet in that far-off land on the
seventh night of the seventh month, save when rain has swelled the Silver River
and rendered the crossing impossible. The hope of a permanent reunion still
fills the hearts of the Star-Lovers, and is to them as a sweet fragrance and a
beautiful vision.
[pg 147]
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