When I had gone to Ishiyama with Middle Captain Nagatō, looking out at dawn, both the sky and the waters were misted and especially moving, as the plovers called:
冬寒みたつ河霧もあるものをなくなく來居る千鳥かなしな
| Fuyu samumi tatu kaFagiri mo aru mono wo naku naku kiwiru tidori kanasi na |
Chill, indeed, is a winter when Mist rises from the river, Or so they say; Crying, calling, come The plovers, ever plaintive. |
When the moon was shining brightly and I was conversing with a lady, we heard the plovers call:
濱千鳥いづこに鳴くぞ月まつと
| Fama tidori iduko ni naku zo tuki matu to |
Plovers on the beach: Where do they cry? While waiting for the moon… |
I said, and she concluded:
あかしの浦とおもふなるべし
| akasi no ura to omoFunarubesi |
Bright Akashi Bay Must be their thought! |
Plover.
道を思ひ身をなげくとてさよ千鳥和歌の浦はになかぬ日もなし
| michi o omoi mi o nageku tote sayo chidori waka no urawa ni nakanu hi mo nashi |
Thinking of the path ahead and Grieving at his fate, A night-calling plover In the Bay of Waka Cries out every day. |
Topic unknown.
うばたまのよのふけゆけばひさぎおふるきよきかはらにちどりなく也
| ubatama no yo no fukeyukeba hisagi ōru kiyoki kawara ni chidori naku nari |
Lily-seed dark, The night grows deeper, and Where the catalpa trees grow Along the clean-swept river banks The plovers are calling. |
[Yamabe no] Akahito
山部赤人