When the Monk Saijū died, on hearing that he had been at peace at the last, he composed this and sent it to the Monk En’i.
みだれずとをはり聞くこそ嬉しけれさても別は慰まねども
| midarezu to woFari kiku koso uresikere sate mo wakare Fa nagusamanedomo |
That he had no pain At the end-to hear that Pleases me; Yet in any parting There is no consolation. |
The Monk Jakuzen
When the Monk Saijū, a fellow pilgrim, became ill around Autumn time, seeing he had not long to live, Saigyō composed:
諸共にながめながめて秋の月ひとりにならむことぞ悲しき
| morotomo ni nagame nagamete aki no tuki Fitori ni naramu koto zo kanasiki |
Together Have we gazed and gazed again Upon the Autumn moon; To do it alone Will be sad indeed. |
The Monk En’i
Someone who had gone to a distant place died there and when their relations returned to the capital with the sad news, she composed:
何方の雲路としらばたづねましつらはなれけむ雁の行末を
| idukata no kumodi to siraba tadunemasi tura Fanarekemu kari no yukuwe wo |
On which Cloudway has he gone-could I but know, I would travel too – From his flock astray – To that goose’s whereabouts. |
Murasaki Shikibu
紫式部
Composed at night, at the end of the Twelfth Month.
亡人のくる夜ときけど君もなし我が住む宿や魂無きの里
| naki Fito no kuru yo to kikedo kimi mo nasi wa ga sumu yado ya tamanaki no sato |
The dead Return tonight, I’ve heard, yet You are not here; Is my dwelling place truly A house without spirit? |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部
When Koshikibu no Naishi died, Izumi Shikibu composed this looking at her grandchildren.
とゞめおきて誰をあはれと思ふらん子はまさるらん子はまさりけり
| todome okite tare wo aFare to omoFuran ko Fa masaruran ko Fa masarikeri |
Left behind, Who, fondly, do You think upon, I wonder. Worse for the children, perhaps. Worst to lose my child. |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部
Composed when she was in retreat at a mountain temple and saw someone’s funeral.
立ちのぼる煙につけて思ふかないつまた我を人のかく見ん
| tatinoboru keburi ni tukete omoFu kana itu mata ware wo Fito no kaku min |
Rising to the skies With the smoke I send My thoughts: Sometime hence I Will appear to folk like this. |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部