|Text(Edward G. Seidensticker; The Tale of Genji）
There was no one now to whom she might turn for help. It is true that her older brother, a monk, would stop by when he chanced to be in the city; but he had no part in practical or elegant affairs. Even among his colleagues he had a name for saintly unworldliness. He did not seem to notice that the wormwood was asking to be cut back.
<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 Wormwood Patch> p299-18
"You took your time," said Genji. "And what did you find? You must have had to cut away a great deal of underbrush to find anything."
Koremitsu described the search that had taken him so long. "I spoke to Jiju's aunt, the old lady called Shosho. I would have recognized her voice anywhere."
<The Wormwood Patch> p299-31
"It is very wet, sir."
<The Wormwood Patch> p299-33
"Myself will I break a path through towering weeds
And ask: does a constant spirit dwell within?"
<The Wormwood Patch> p302-01
He distributed them among his several ladies as seemed appropriate, taking care this time that Prince Hitachi's mansion was not slighted. He set stewards and artisans who had his confidence to replacing the decayed earthen walls with a sturdy wooden fence.
<The Wormwood Patch> p302-08
Perhaps she could be thinking about presentable maids and footman
and the like. The wormwood patch now seemed to choke with gratitude. Looking off in Genji's direction, the Hitachi household offered thanks.
<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.
<The Morning Glory> p354-05
"And when did wormwood overwhelm this gate,
This hedge, now under snow, so go to ruin?"
<The Oak Tree> p654-21
Young grasses had sprung up all through the garden, and in the shade of a rock or a tree, where the sand covering was thin, wormwood and other weeds had taken over as if asserting an old claim. The flowers that had been tended with such care were now rank and overgrown. He thought how clumps of grass now tidy and proper in the spring would in the autumn be a dense moor humming with insects, and he was in tears as he parted the dewy tangles and came up to the veranda.
<The Eastern Cottage> p967-17
The women among them, he had heard, could look like veritable demons as they strode about in the dawn with their wares balanced on their heads. It was a new experience, passing the night in a tangle of wormwood, and he was not at all bored. At length he heard the guards going off duty.
Ordering his carriage brought to a hinged door at a corner of the house.
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