Together with Prince Atsumichi, she went to the house of former Major Councillor Kintô and, on the following day, sent this via the messenger sent by the Prince.
おる人のそれなるからにあぢきなく見しわがやどの花のかぞする
| oru hito no sore naru kara ni ajikinaku mishi wa ga yado no hana no ka zo suru |
The one who plucked it Was you, so As something trifling Was it seen at my house Scented with the flowers’ fragrance. |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部
Written in place of a man, when a lady who had promised to do so failed to reply to him.
いまこんといふことの葉もかれゆくによなよなつゆのなにゝをくらん
| ima kon to iu koto no ha mo kareyuku ni yona yona tsuyu no nani ni okuran |
“I’ll be back soon!” Those words of yours, like leaves Have withered; and Night after night, the dewdrops: What should they fall upon? |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部
Around the Third Month, when a man with whom she had been chatting all night was departing for home, he said that this morning in particular he had cause for gloom, so she composed:
けさはしもなげきもすらんいたづらに春のよひとよ夢をだにみで
| kesa wa shimo nageki mo suran itazura ni haru no yo hito yo yume o dani mide |
On this of all mornings There is cause for grief, I’d say. How pointless, To stay a spring night, all night, and Not even glimpse a dream! |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部
She composed this after Koshikibu no Naishi died, to say that she would have a small box she had always kept near her made into a sutra case.
こひわぶときゝにだにきけかねのをとにうちわすらるゝ時のまぞなき
| koiwabu to kiki ni dani kike kane no oto ni uchiwasuraruru toki no ma zo naki |
My fond grief: Listen to it, if you can, When the bell chimes, Struck-I will forget you For not one single moment. |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部
Sent back when the Jōtōmon Empress enquired after [Izumi Shikibu’s daughter] Koshikibu no Naishi after she had died, saying, ‘Send Me her Cathay robes patterned with dew spattered bush clover.’
をくと見しつゆもありけりはかなくてきえにし人をなにゝたとへん
| oku to mishi tsuyu mo arikeri hakanakute kienishi hito o nani ni tatoen |
Fallen, I saw The dew-and it’s still there; In fleeting moments She was gone and now To what can I compare her? |
Izumi Shikibu
和泉式部