Quiet poling, and the day breaks over the clear river;
out of the thatched window I look, and it's already fall.
Mino mountains, lined up, form a row;
Shinano waters, broken up into flows, merge here.
Willow leaves, frosted, fly about the coast;
reed flowers, like snow, fill the sandy bar.
I prick up my ear and see the accent has changed;
our boat has entered Owari Province.