Japanese Folklore Tales of The Beautiful Weaving Maiden

Japanese Folklore Tales of The Beautiful Weaving Maiden

  • Maya Aminah Sakura
  • Muhammad Vandestra
Publisher:Dragon PromediaISBN 13: 9782765931324ISBN 10: 2765931321

Paperback & Hardcover deals ―

Amazon IndiaGOFlipkart GOSnapdealGOSapnaOnlineGOJain Book AgencyGOBooks Wagon₹425Book ChorGOCrosswordGODC BooksGO

e-book & Audiobook deals ―

Amazon India GOGoogle Play Books ₹0.99Audible GO

* Price may vary from time to time.

* GO = We're not able to fetch the price (please check manually visiting the website).

Know about the book -

Japanese Folklore Tales of The Beautiful Weaving Maiden is written by Maya Aminah Sakura and published by Dragon Promedia. It's available with International Standard Book Number or ISBN identification 2765931321 (ISBN 10) and 9782765931324 (ISBN 13).

All you that are true lovers, I beseech you pray the gods for fair weather upon the seventh night of the seventh moon. For patience’ sake and for dear love’s sake, pray, and be pitiful that upon that night there may be neither rain, nor hail, nor cloud, nor thunder, nor creeping mist. Hear the sad tale of the Star Lovers and give them your prayers. The Weaving Maiden was the daughter of a Deity of Light. Her dwelling was upon the shore of the Milky Way, which is the Bright River of Heaven. All the day long she sat at her loom and plied her shuttle, weaving the gay garments of the gods. Warp and woof, hour by hour the coloured web grew till it lay fold on fold piled at her feet. Todos ustedes, que son verdaderos amantes, les suplico que recen a los dioses por el buen tiempo en la séptima noche de la séptima luna. Por amor de la paciencia y por el amor de Dios, reza y sé digno de lástima porque en esa noche no puede haber lluvia, ni granizo, ni nube, ni trueno, ni neblina. Escucha la triste historia de los Star Lovers y dales tus oraciones. The Weaving Maiden era la hija de una Deidad de Luz. Su morada estaba en la orilla de la Vía Láctea, que es el Brillante Río del Cielo. Todo el día ella se sentó en su telar y manejó su lanzadera, tejiendo las prendas alegres de los dioses. La urdimbre y la trama, hora a hora, la telaraña de colores creció hasta que quedó doblada sobre un montón amontonado a sus pies.