In vine-trailing Iwami's sea,
at uncertain Cape Kara,
deep-sea fleece grows on hidden rocks,
lovely seaweeds grow on the wild shore.
Like those lovely seaweeds, yielding, you slept with me,
deeply as deep-sea fleece I think of you,
but the nights we slept together were not many,
I came away, parting with you as trailing vines do.
My heart aches, center of my vitals,
longing, I turn around to look,
but on Mount Ferry of large ships
yellow leaves scatter, flutter so
I cannot see your sleeves clearly.
Like the moon sailing through a cloud rift
above wife-secluding Mount Yakami,
though longed for, you hide from sight
when, after coursing heaven, the setting sun casts its glow.
I, who thought myself a strong man —
my white-cloth sleeves
have become wet through and through.

ENVOYS

My blue steed gallops so swiftly, the place of my love that I passed, now as distant as a cloud

Yellow leaves falling on the autumn hill — don't scatter or flutter for a while, I'd like to see
the place of my love