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- Ise Monogatari
Musashino— do not burn it today; in the young grass my beloved husband hides, and I too lie hidden.
Musashino—do not burn it today. In the young grass my beloved husband lies hidden, and I too lie hidden.
Musashi stirrups— though you hang them in earnest, and place your trust in me, not to write is cruel, to write is vexing too.
Though you hang your Musashi stirrups in earnest and place your trust in me, not to write is cruel, and to write is vexing too.
If I write, you say too much; if I do not, you resent me— Musashi stirrups hanging on either side: is it at such a time that one must die?
If I write, you say it is too much; if I do not write, you resent me—like Musashi stirrups hanging on either side. Is it at such a time as this that one must die?
Rather than thus not die of love at all, better to have been a silkworm— with but a jewel-cord’s span of life.
Rather than languish so and not even die of love, it would have been better to become a silkworm, even with a life as short as a jewel-cord’s span.
When night breaks, I would thrust it in the tub— that foolish cock, crying too soon, has sent my husband away.
When night has broken, I would thrust it into the tub—the foolish cock that, crying too soon before the dawn, has sent my beloved husband away.
If you were a person like the Aneha pine of Kurihara, as a keepsake for the capital I would say, come, let us go.
If you were a person like the famous Aneha pine of Kurihara, I would say, as a keepsake for the capital, come, let us go together.
On Shinobu Mountain, a hidden path for secret visits— would that there were one, that I might even see the depths of her heart.
On Shinobu Mountain, would that there were a hidden path for secret visits, that I might even see the depths of her heart.
Folding my fingers, counting the times we met— when I say ten, ten and ten and ten and ten have already passed.
Folding my fingers and counting the years we have lived together, when I say ten, ten and ten and ten and ten have already passed.
If the years alone, saying ten, have passed four times, how many times has she relied on you, coming to you thus?
If the years alone, saying ten, have passed four times, how many times in that while has your wife relied upon you and come to you?
Is this indeed the robe of feathers of a heavenly maid? No wonder it was worn by one such as you.
Is this indeed the feathered robe of a heavenly maiden? No wonder it was worn by one such as you.
Has autumn come, or is it the dew— so I wonder, for what falls in truth is but my tears.
Has autumn come, or is it the dew?—so I wonder; for what falls in truth is but my tears.
They call it faithless, by name they so proclaim it— cherry blossoms; yet they have waited for one who comes but rarely in the year.
They call the cherry blossoms faithless, so they proclaim by name, because they scatter so quickly; yet they have waited without falling for one who comes but rarely in the year.
Had you not come today, tomorrow it would have fallen like falling snow; and though it did not melt away, would you still have seen it as blossom?
Had you not come today, it would have fallen tomorrow like falling snow; and even if it had not melted away, would you still have seen it as blossom?
Where is the crimson glowing in beauty? White snow seems to have fallen bending the branches low.
Where is the crimson said to glow in beauty? It appears as though white snow has fallen, bending the branches low.
The white chrysanthemums that glow in crimson hue— are they, perhaps, the layered sleeves of the one who plucked them?
The white chrysanthemums that glow in crimson hue—might they be the layered sleeves of the one who plucked them?
Like clouds in heaven, does he become a distant one, far beyond my reach? And yet, for all that, he remains before my eyes.
Like clouds in the sky, does he become a distant one, far beyond my reach? And yet, for all that, he still remains before my eyes.