Such was a common occurrence in the evening, and Genji always felt saddened whenever he came to think that all his attendants had accompanied him, having left their families and homes simply for his sake. In the daytime, however, there were changes. He would then enjoy pleasant conversations. He also joined several papers into long rolls on which he might practise penmanship. He spent a good deal of time in drawing and sketching. He remembered how Yoshikiyo, on one occasion in Mount Kurama, had described the beautiful scenery of the place on which he was now gazing. He sketched every beautiful landscape of the neighborhood, and collected them in albums, thinking how nice it would be if he could send for Tsunenori, a renowned contemporary artist, and get him to paint the sketches which he had made. Out of all the attendants of Genji there were four or five who had been more especially his favorites, and who had constantly attended on him. One evening they were all sitting together in a corridor which commanded a full view of the sea. They perceived the island of Awaji lying in the distance, as if it were floating on the horizon, and also several boats with sailors, singing as they rowed to the shore over the calm surface of the water, like waterfowl in their native element. Over their heads flocks of wild geese rustled on their way homeward with their plaintive cry, which made the thoughts of the spectators revert to their homes. Genji hummed this verse:-- "Those wandering birds above us flying, Do they our far-off friends resemble. With their voice of plaintive crying Make us full of thoughtful sighing." Yoshikiyo took up the idea and replied:-- "Though these birds no friends of ours Are, and we to them are nought, Yet their voice in these still hours Bring those old friends to our thought." Then Koremitz continued:-- "Before to-day I always thought They flew on pleasure's wing alone, But now their fate to me is fraught With some resemblance to our own." Ukon-no-Jio added:-- "Though we, like them, have left our home To wander forth, yet still for me There's joy to think where'er I roam My faithful friends are still with me." Ukon-no-Jio was the brother of Ki-no-Kami. His father, Iyo-no-Kami, had now been promoted to be Hitachi-no-Kami (Governor of Hitachi), and had gone down to that province, but Ukon-no-Jio did not join his father, who would have gladly taken him, and faithfully followed Genji. This evening happened to be the fifteenth of August, on which day a pleasant reunion is generally held at the Imperial Palace. Genji looked at the silvery pale sky, and as he did so the affectionate face of the Emperor, his brother, whose expression strikingly resembled their father's, presented itself to his mind. After a deep and long sigh, he returned to his couch, humming as he went:-- "Here is still a robe His Majesty gave to me."