Classic Poem

The palace at Yoshino,
so splendidly built
by our lord who rules
the eight corners of the earth:
layer upon layer
of green walls surround it;
turning and winding
the bright river runs.
In the springtime,
many blossoms bloom;
when autumn comes,
mist fills the air.
As the mountains rise
endlessly,
as the river runs
ceaselessly,
so to this palace
of a hundred blocks
shall the courtiers always come.

In beautiful Yoshino's
Kisa Mountains,
in the tops of the trees,
how many, how noisy,
the voices of birds.

As the berry black
night grows deeper,
on the clear river's banks
where oak trees grow
over and over the plovers cry.