"Though no one may know"

Kimono in pale pink silk mikado. Inner blouse with kimono collar, crafted from matte-finish silk crepe. Underdress in cotton gauze with hand-finished details.

THOUGH NO ONE MAY KNOW

"There once were a man and a woman who loved each other deeply. Yet something—no doubt a mere trifle—must have occurred between them, for the lady grew discontented and resolved to leave. She left behind this poem, written upon an object in the home:

When I am gone, spiteful tongues will say I was a fickle woman,
though no one may know what truly happened between us.

Upon reading these lines, the man was struck with dismay, unable to fathom what he might have done to displease her so. He stepped into the threshold, weeping bitterly, not knowing where to search for her. He returned inside and recited this verse:

After much time had passed, the woman, perhaps no longer able to restrain herself, sent him this poem:

I grieve now, too late,
for having sown within such a cherished heart
the cruel seed of forgetfulness.

He replied:

If you hear it said
that the cruel seed of forgetfulness
has taken root in my chest,
you will know how deep the furrow must be
to let it grow.

From that moment on, their bond grew even deeper than before. The man wrote:

The mere thought that you might one day
forget me once more—
that pain is even crueler than the one I felt before.

She answered:

Like a cloud that drifts
and vanishes in the sky without a trace,
so brief is our life,
our journey but a fleeting one."