THE pangs of love and longing are as old as language itself. Here are three emotional snippets from the Japan of more than 1,000 years ago. They can be found in From the Morning of the World, poems from the Manyoshu, the first anthology of poetry in Japanese, translated by Graeme Wilson (Harvill, 1991).

WAITING

I wait and wait. He does not come.

The wild geese coldly cry.

The night grows late and yet more late

And, from a freezing sky,

The wind blows hard. It turns to ice

This snow upon my sleeves,

And ground-frost hardens to a crust

Of frozen grass and leaves.

On such a night he’ll never come.

How could he come? Instead,

Hoping at least I’ll dream he came,

I shiver back to bed.

Anonymous (eighth century)

WINTER WAITING

Is he here? Is he back? I asked them:

No one seemed to know.

I ran outside to look for him

As fast as I could go,

Into an empty courtyard

And the sibilance of snow.

Anonymous (eighth century)

THE HARVEST OF THE HEART

Seven big-wheeled wagons

Were not enough to cart

These shining sheaves of love-thoughts,

This harvest of my heart:

Seven wagons big enough

Never could be found

To take the weight of happiness

My heart can carry round.

Princess Hirokawa (written c.750)