A Damsel Crossing a Bridge

Across the bridge, with scarlet lacquer glowing,
    That o'er the Katashiha's stream is laid,
    All trippingly a tender girl is going,
    In bodice blue and crimson skirt arrayed.
    None to escort her: would that I were knowing
    Whether alone she sleeps on virgin bed,
    Or if some spouse has won her by his wooing:—
    Tell me her house! I'll ask the pretty maid!