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Coarse the rush-mat roof Sheltering the harvest-hut Of the autumn rice-field;-- And my sleeves are growing wet With the moisture dripping through. |
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Spring, it seems, has passed, And the summer come again; For the silk-white robes, So 'tis said, are spread to dry On the "Mount of Heaven's Perfume." |
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Ah! the foot-drawn trail Of the mountain-pheasant's tail Drooped like down-curved branch!-- Through this long, long-dragging night Must I keep my couch alone? |
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When to Tago's coast I the way have gone, and see Perfect whiteness laid On Mount Fuji's lofty peak By the drift of falling snow. |
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In the mountain depths, Treading through the crimson leaves, Cries the wandering stag. When I hear the lonely cry, Sad,--how sad--the autumn is! |
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If the "Magpie Bridge"-- Bridge by flight of magpies spanned,-- White with frost I see:-- With a deep-laid frost made white:-- Late, I know, has grown the night. |
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When I look abroad O'er the wide-stretched "Plain of Heaven," Is the moon the same That on Mount Mikasa rose, In the land of Kasuga? |
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Lowly hut is mine South-east from the capital:-- Thus I choose to dwell;-- And the world in which I live Men have named a "Mount of Gloom." |
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Color of the flower Has already passed away While on trivial things Vainly I have set my gaze, In my journey through the world. |
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Truly, this is where Travelers who go or come Over parting ways,-- Friends or strangers,--all must meet; 'Tis the gate of "Meeting Hill." |
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O'er the wide, wide sea, Towards its many distant isles, Rowing I set forth. This, to all the world proclaim, O ye boats of fisher-folk! |
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O ye Winds of Heaven! In the paths among the clouds Blow, and close the ways, That we may these virgin forms Yet a little while detain. |
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From Tsukuba's peak, Falling waters have become Mina's still, full flow: So my love has grown to be; Like the river's quiet deeps. |
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Michinoku print Of shinobu's tangled leaves! For whose sake have I, Like confused, begun to be? Only yours! I can not change! |
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It is for thy sake That I seek the fields in spring, Gathering green herbs, While my garment's hanging sleeves Are with falling snow beflecked. |
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Though we parted be; If on Mount Inaba's peak I should hear the sound Of the pine trees growing there, Back at once I'll make my way. |
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I have never heard That, e'en when the gods held sway In the ancient days, E'er was water bound with red Such as here in Tatta's stream |
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Lo! the gathered waves On the shore of Sumi's bay! E'en in gathered night, When in dreams I go to thee, I must shun the eyes of men. |
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Even for a space Short as joint of tiny reed From Naniwa's marsh, We must never meet again In this life? This, do you ask? |
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Now, in dire distress, It is all the same to me! So, then, let us meet Even though it costs my life In the Bay of Naniwa. |
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Just because she said, "In a moment I will come," I've awaited her E'en until the moon of dawn, In the long month, hath appeared. |
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Since 'tis by its breath Autumn's leaves of grass and trees Riven are and waste,-- Men may to the mountain wind Fitly given the name, "The Wild." |
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At the present time, Since no offering I could bring, See, Mount Tamuke! Here are brocades of red leaves, At the pleasure of the god. |
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If thy name be true, Trailing vine of "Meeting Hill," Is there not some way Whereby, without ken of men, I can draw thee to my side? |
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If the maple leaves On the ridge of Ogura Have the gift of mind, They will longingly await One more august pilgrimage. |
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Over Mika's plain, Gushing forth and flowing free, Is Izumi's stream. I know not if we have met: Why, then, do I long for her? |
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Winter loneliness In a mountain hamlet grows Only deeper, when Guests are gone, and leaves and grass Withered are;--so runs my thought. |
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If it were my wish White chrysanthemum to cull;-- Puzzled by the frost Of the early autumn time, I by chance might pluck the flower. |
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Like the morning moon, Cold, unpitying was my love. Since that parting hour, Nothing I dislike so much As the breaking light of day. |
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At the break of day, Just as though the morning moon Lightened the dim scene, Yoshino's fair hamlet lay In a haze of falling snow. |
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In a mountain stream, Builded by the busy wind, Is a wattled-barrier drawn. Yet 'tis only maple leaves Powerless to flow away. |
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In the cheerful light Of the ever-shining Sun, In the days of spring; Why, with ceaseless, restless haste Falls the cherry's new-blown bloom? |
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Whom then are there now, In my age (so far advanced) I can hold as friends? Even Takasago's pines Are not friends of former days. |
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No! no! As for man, How his heart is none can tell, But the plum's sweet flower In my birthplace, as of yore, Still emits the same perfume. |
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In the summer night, While the evening still seems here, Lo! the dawn has come. In what region of the clouds Has the wandering moon found place? |
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In the autumn fields, When the heedless wind blows by O'er the pure-white dew, How the myriad unstrung gems Everywhere are scattered round! |
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Though forgotten now, For myself I do not care: He, by oath, was pledged;-- And his life, who is forsworn, That is, ah! so pitiful. |
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Bamboo-growing plain, With a small-field bearing reeds! Though I bear my lot, Why is it too much to bear? Why do I still love her so? |
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Though I would conceal, In my face it yet appears,-- My fond, secret love:-- So much that he asks of me, "Does not something trouble you?" |
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Though, indeed, I love, Yet, the rumor of my love Had gone far and wide, When no man, ere then, could know That I had begun to love. |
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Have we not been pledged By the wringing of our sleeves,-- Each for each in turn,-- That o'er Sue's Mount of Pines Ocean waves shall never pass? |
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Having met my love, Afterwards my passion was, When I measured it With the feeling of the past, As, if then, I had not loved. |
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If a trysting time There should never be at all, I should not complain For myself (oft left forlorn), Or of her (in heartless mood). |
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Sure that there is none Who will speak a pitying word, I shall pass away. Ah! my death shall only be My own folly's (fitting end). |
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Like a mariner Sailing over Yura's strait With his rudder gone,-- Whither, o'er the deep of love, Lies the goal, I do not know. |
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To the humble cot, Overgrown with thick-leaved vines In its loneliness, Comes the dreary autumn time;-- And not even man is there. |
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Like a driven wave, Dashed by fierce winds on a rock, So it is, alas! Crushed and all alone am I; Thinking over what has been. |
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Like the warder's fires At the Imperial gateway kept,-- Burning through the night, Through the day in ashes dulled,-- Is the love aglow in me. |
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For thy precious sake, Once my (eager) life itself Was not dear to me. But 'tis now my heart's desire It may long, long years endure. |
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That, 'tis as it is, How can I make known to her? So, she may n'er know That the love I feel for her Like Ibuki's moxa burns. |
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Though I know full well That the night will come again E'en when day has dawned, Yet, in truth, I hate the sight Of the morning's coming light. |
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Sighing all alone, Through the long watch of the night, Till the break of day:-- Can you realize at all What a tedious thing it is? |
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If "not to forget" Will for him in future years Be too difficult;-- It were well this very day That my life, ah me! should close. |
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Though the waterfall In its flow ceased long ago, And its sound is stilled; Yet, in name it ever flows, And in fame may yet be heard. |
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Soon I cease to be;-- One fond memory I would keep When beyond this world. Is there, then, no way for me Just once more to meet with thee? |
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Meeting in the way--, While I can not clearly know If 'tis friend or not;-- Lo! the midnight moon, ah me! In a cloud has disappeared. |
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If Mount Arima Sends his rustling winds across Ina's bamboo-plains;-- Well! in truth, tis as you say; Yet how can I e'er forget? |
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Better to have slept Care-free, than to keep vain watch Through the passing night, Till I saw the lonely moon. Traverse her descending path. |
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As, by Oe's mount And o'er Iku's plain, the way Is so very far,-- I have not yet even seen Ama-no-hashidate. |
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Eight-fold cherry flowers That at Nara,--ancient seat Of Our State,--have bloomed;-- In Our Nine-fold Palace court Shed their sweet perfume today |
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Though in middle night, By the feigned crow of the cock, Some may be deceived;-- Yet, at Ausaka's gate This can never be achieved. |
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Is there now no way, But through others' lips, to say These so fateful words,-- That, henceforth, my love for you I must banish from my thoughts? |
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Lo! at early dawn, When the mists o'er Uji's stream Slowly lift and clear, And the net-stakes on the shoals, Near and far away, appear! |
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Even when my sleeves, Through my hate and misery, Never once are dry,-- For such love my name decays:-- How deplorable my lot! |
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Let us, each for each Pitying, hold tender thought, Mountain-cherry flower! Other than thee, lonely flower, There is none I know as friend. |
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If, but through the dreams Of a spring's short night, I'd rest Pillowed on this arm, And my name were blameless stained, Hard, indeed, would be my fate. |
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If, against my wish, In the world of sorrows still, I for long should live;-- How then I would pine, alas! For this moon of middle-night. |
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By the wind-storm's blast, From Mimuro's mountain slopes Maples leaves are torn, And as (rich) brocades, are wrought On (blue) Tatta's (quiet) stream. |
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In my loneliness From my humble home gone forth, When I looked around, Everywhere it was the same;-- One lone, darkening autumn eve. |
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When the evening comes, From the rice leaves at my gate Gentle knocks are heard; And, into my round rush-hut, Autumn's roaming breeze makes way. |
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Well I know the fame Of the fickle waves that beat On Takashi's strand! Should I e'er go near that shore I should only wet my sleeves. |
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On that distant mount, O'er the slope below the peak, Cherries are in flower;-- May the mists of hither hills Not arise to veil the scene. |
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I did not make prayer (At the shrine of Mercy's God), That the unkind one Should become as pitiless As the storms of Hase's hills. |
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Though your promise was "Like the dew on moxa plant" And, to me, was life; Yet, alas! the year has passed Even into autumn time. |
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O'er the wide sea plain, As I row and look around, It appears to me That the white waves, far away, Are the ever shining sky. |
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Though a swift stream be By a rock met and restrained In impetuous flow, Yet, divided, it speeds on, And at last unites again. |
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Guard of Suma's Gate, From your sleep, how many nights Have you waked at cries Of the plaintive sanderlings, Migrant from Awaji's isle? |
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See, how clear and bright Is the moon-light finding ways 'Mong the riven clouds That, with drifting autumn-wind, Gracefully float o'er the sky! |
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If it be for aye That he wills our love should last? Ah! I do not know! And this morn my anxious thoughts, Like my black hair, are confused. |
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When I turned my look Toward the place whence I had heard Hototogisu,-- Lo! the only object there Was the moon of early dawn. |
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Though in deep distress (Through the cruel blow), my life Still is left to me:-- But my tears I can not keep; They can not my grief endure. |
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Ah! within the world, Way of flight I find nowhere. I had thought to hide In the mountains' farthest depths; Yet e'en there the stag's cry sounds. |
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If I long should live, Then, perchance, the present days May be dear to me;-- Just as past time fraught with grief Now comes fondly back in thought. |
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Now,-- as through the night Longingly I pass the hours, And the day's dawn lags,-- E'en my bedroom's crannied doors Heartless are, indeed, to me. |
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Is it then the moon That has made me sad, as though It had bade me grieve? Lifting up my troubled face,-- Ah! the tears, the (mournful) tears! |
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Lo, an autumn eve! See the deep vale's mists arise Mong the fir-tree's leaves That still hold the dripping wet Of the (chill day's) sudden showers. |
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For but one night's sake, Short as is a node of reed Grown in Naniwa bay, Must I, henceforth, long for him With my whole heart, till life's close? |
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Life! Thou string of gems! If thou art to end, break now. For, if yet I live, All I do to hide ( my love) May at last grow weak (and fail). |
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Let me show him these! E'en the fisherwomen's sleeves On Ojima's shores, Though wet through and wet again, Do not change their dyer's hues. |
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On a chilling mat, Drawing close my folded quilt, I must sleep alone, While all through the frosty night Sounds a cricket's (forlorn chirp). |
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Like a rock at sea, E'en at ebb-tide hid from view, Is my tear-drenched sleeve:-- Never for a moment dry, And unknown in human ken. |
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Would that this, our world, Might be ever as it is! What a lovely scene! See that fisherwoman's boat, Rope-drawn, rowed along the beach. |
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From Mount Yoshino Blows a chill, autumnal wind, In the deepening night. Cold the ancient hamlet is;-- Sounds of beating cloth I hear. |
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Though I am not fit, I have dared to shield the folk Of this woeful world With my black-dyed (sacred) sleeve:-- I, who live on Mount Hiei. |
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Not the snow of flowers, That the hurrying wild-wind drags Round the garden court, Is it that here, withering, falls:-- That in truth is I, myself. |
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Like the salt sea-weed, Burning in the evening calm, On Matsuo's shore, All my being is aglow, Waiting one who does not come. |
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Lo! at Nara's brook Evening comes, and rustling winds Stir the oak-trees' leave;-- Not a sign of summer left But the sacred bathing there. |
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For some men I grieve;-- Some men are hateful to me;-- And this wretched world To me, weighted down with care, Is a place of misery. |
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O Imperial House! When I think of former days, How I long for thee! More than e'en the clinging vines Hanging 'neath thine ancient eaves. |