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- Manyoshu
Masokagami minabuchiyama wa kyō mo ka mo shiratsuyu okite momichi chiruramu
On Mount Minabuchi, is the white dew settling today as well, and the autumn leaves scattering?
Waga yado no asaji irozuku yonabari no natsumi no ue ni shigure fururashi
The short grass at my home is turning color—over Natsumi at Yonabari, the autumn showers must be falling.
Karigane no samuku nakishi yu mizukuki no oka no kuzuha wa irozukinikeri
Ever since the wild geese cried so coldly, the kudzu leaves on the hill have turned color.
Akihagi no shitaba no momichi hana ni tsugi toki sugiyukaba nochi koimu ka mo
The autumn color of the bush clover's lower leaves follows upon its flowers—and when that season too has passed, will I long for it afterward?
Asukagawa momichiba nagaru katsuragi no yama no ko no ha wa ima shi chirurashi
Autumn leaves are floating down the Asuka River—the leaves on the trees of Mount Katsuragi must be scattering right now.
Imo ga himo toku to musubite tatsutayama ima koso momichi somete arikere
Mount Tatsuta—whose name recalls tying the sash I would untie for my beloved—has now just begun to turn color.
Karigane no samuku nakishi yu kasuga naru mikasa no yama wa irozukinikeri
Ever since the wild geese cried so coldly, Mount Mikasa in Kasuga has turned color.
Kono koro no akatokitsuyu ni waga yado no aki no hagihara irozukinikeri
With the dew before dawn these days, the autumn bush clover field at my home has turned color.
Yū sareba kari no koeyuku tatsutayama shigure ni kioi irozukinikeri
Mount Tatsuta, which the wild geese cross at evening, has turned color, as if vying with the autumn showers.
Sayo fukete shigure na furi so akihagi no motoha no momichi chiramaku oshi mo
As the night grows late, O showers, do not fall! How sad it would be for the autumn color of the bush clover's lower leaves to scatter.
Furusato no hatsumomichiba o taorimochi kyō zo waga koshi minu hito no tame
I have broken off the first autumn leaves of my old home and brought them here today, for the one who has not yet seen them.
Kimi ga ie no momichiba wa hayaku chirinikeri shigure no ame ni nurenikerashi mo
The autumn leaves at your house have already scattered—they must have been drenched by the autumn showers.
Hitotose ni futatabi yukanu akiyama o kokoro ni akazu sugushitsuru ka mo
The autumn mountains that come but once a year—I have let them pass without gazing to my heart's content.
Ashihiki no yamada tsukuru ko hidezu tomo nawa dani haeyo moru to shiru gane
You who work the mountain paddy, even if the ears have not yet come out, at least stretch a rope around it, so people will know it is guarded.
Saoshika no tsuma yobu yama no okabe naru wasada wa karaji shimo wa furu tomo
I will not reap the early rice in the paddies on the hillside of the mountain where the stag calls for his mate—even if the frost falls.
Waga kado ni moru ta o mireba saho no uchi no akihagi susuki omōyuru ka mo
When I look at the paddy I guard by my gate, I think of the autumn bush clover and pampas grass of Saho.