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- Kokin Wakashu
Kasugano wa kyō wa na yaki so wakakusa no
tsuma mo komoreri ware mo komoreri
Today, burn not Kasuga Field. In the young spring grass, my wife is hidden, and I, too, am hidden.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Miyama ni wa matsu no yuki dani kienaku ni
miyako wa nobe no wakana tsumikeri
Here in the deep mountains, even the snow piled on the pine trees has not yet melted, yet in the Capital they are gathering the young greens that have sprouted in the fields.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Azusayumi oshite harusame kyō furinu
asu sae furaba wakana tsumitemu
Spring rain has fallen today across the land. If it continues even tomorrow, I shall gather the young greens then as well.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Kimi ga tame haru no no ni idete wakana tsumu
waga koromode ni yuki wa furitsutsu
For your sake, I went out into the spring fields to gather young greens, while snow kept falling upon my sleeves.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Kasugano no wakana tsumi ni ya shirotae no
sode furihaete hito no yukuramu
Could it be that they are going to Kasuga Field to gather young greens, with the sleeves of their white garments fluttering as they go?
Kokin Wakashu - Ki no Tsurayuki
Haru no kiru kasumi no koromo nuki o usumi
yamakaze ni koso midaru beranare
The robe called spring haze, worn in spring, has thin weft threads; blown by the mountain wind, it seems as though it might be torn and fray.
Kokin Wakashu - Ariwara no Yukihira
Tokiwa naru matsu no midori mo haru kureba
ima hitoshio no iro masarikeri
Even the green of the ever-constant pines, when spring comes, deepens yet another degree.
Kokin Wakashu - Minamoto no Muneyuki
Waga seko ga koromo harusame furu goto ni
nobe no midori zo iro masarikeru
Each time the spring rain falls, the green of the grasses and trees in the fields alone deepens in color.
Kokin Wakashu - Ki no Tsurayuki
Aoyagi no ito yorikakuru haru shimo zo
midarete hana no hokorobikeru
Though it is the spring when green willows are said to spin threads and weave them, the blossoms all around burst open in wild disarray.
Kokin Wakashu - Ki no Tsurayuki
Asamidori ito yorikakete shiratsuyu o
tama ni mo nukeru haru no yanagi ka
Spinning pale green threads and hanging them upon the branches, the willows of spring thread the white dew into shining beads.
Kokin Wakashu - Sojo Henjo
Momochidori saezuru haru wa mono goto ni
aratamaredomo ware zo furiyuku
In the spring when many birds sing with lively voices, everything one sees and hears is renewed, yet I alone grow old with each spring that comes.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Ochikoto no dazuki mo shiranu yamanaka ni
obotsukanaku mo yobukodori kana
In the deep mountains, not knowing which way to go, a calling bird cries out in an anxious voice, deepening the feeling of unease.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Haru kureba kari kaeru nari shirakumo no
michiyukiburi ni koto ya tsutemashi
When spring comes, the geese return to the north. They go their way along the road of white clouds; if only I could send a message to the one who went down to the land of Koshi.
Kokin Wakashu - Oshikochi no Mitsune
Harugasumi tatsu o misutete yuku kari wa
hana naki sato ni sumi ya naraeru
Seeing the spring haze rise, the geese fly north, leaving behind the season when blossoms will soon bloom; are they accustomed to living in a land where no flowers bloom?
Kokin Wakashu - Ise
Oritsureba sode koso nioe ume no hana
ari to ya koko ni uguisu no naku
Because I have just plucked the plum blossoms, my sleeves are fragrant with their scent; perhaps thinking the blossoms are here, the warbler sings nearby.
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Iro yori mo ka koso aware to omooyure
ta ga sode fureshi yado no ume zo mo
More than its color, its fragrance feels deeply moving to the heart; whose sleeves once brushed the plum at this lodge to leave behind such a lingering scent?
Kokin Wakashu - Unknown Poet