Fresh herbs in the snow.
わかなつむ衣手ぬれてかた岡のあしたのはらにあは雪ぞふる
| wakana tsumu koromode nurete kataoka no ashita no hara ni awayuki zo furu | Picking fresh herbs, My sleeves are soaked, for In Kataoka Upon the plain of Ashita Falls a froth of snow. |
Left (Win)
われききてひとにはつげむほととぎすおもふもしるくまづここになけ
| ware kikite hito ni wa tsugeku hototogisu omou shiruku mazu koko ni nake | I listen, and To folk will tell, O, cuckoo, so Where I am lost in thoughts of you, Sing here first! |
Mitsune
47
Right
かたをかのあしたのはらをとよむまでやまほととぎすいまぞなくなる
| kataoka no ashita no hara o toyomu made yamahototogisu ima zo nakunaru | Until in Kataoka The plain of Ashita Does resound The mountain cuckoos Are singing now! |
48
When ‘Until in Kataoka / The plain of Ashita / Does resound’ had been recited, His Majesty laughed, saying, ‘It would be impossible for it to resound,’ so the final part of the poem was not recited and it lost.
Spring
Left
春のたつ霞の衣うらもなく年を経てこそ花の散りけれ
| haru no tatsu kasumi no koromo ura mo naku toshi o hete koso hana no chirikere | Spring does sew A robe of haze Without an underlay, The year passes by in A scattering of blossom |
1
春の野の雪間をわけていつしかと君がためとぞ若菜摘みつる
| haru no no no yuki ma o wakete itsushika to kimi ga tame to zo wakana tsumitsuru | Across the springtime meadows Do I forge between the snows, Eagerly, so eagerly, For you, my Lord, Have I gathered fresh herbs! |
2
春霞かすみこめたる山里はこほりとくともかげはみえじを
| harugasumi kasumi kometaru yamazato wa kōri toku tomo kage wa mieji o | The haze of spring Blurs all around A mountain retreat, Even were the ice to melt I could see no sign of it! |
3
Right
梅枝にきゐる鶯年毎に花の匂ひをあかぬ声する
| ume ga e ni ki’iru uguisu toshigoto ni hana no nioi o akanu koesuru | Upon the plum tree’s branches Has come to rest the warbler; Every single year, that Of the blossoms’ scent He cannot get his fill he sings. |
4
桜色に花さく雨はふりぬとも千しほぞそめてうつろふなそで
| sakurairo ni hana saku ame wa furinu tomo chishio zo somete utsurou na sode | Cherry-coloured Blossoms flower, as the rain Falls on, yet Dyed a thousand times Fade not, o, my sleeves! |
5
青柳のいとはるばると緑なる行末までも思ひこそやれ
| aoyagi no ito harubaru to midori naru yukusue made mo omoi koso yare | The willow’s Branches dangle lengthily So green Right to the very end Will I fondly think of you. |
6