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- Gosen Wakashu
Waga yado no obana ga ue no shiratsuyu o ketazute tama ni nuku mono ni moga
If only I could string the white dew on the pampas plumes of my garden into jewels, without letting it vanish.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Saoshika no tachinarasu ono no akihagi ni okeru shiratsuyu ware mo kenubeshi
Like the white dew on the autumn bush clover of the meadow where the stag comes treading, I too, it seems, must fade away.
Gosen Wakashu - Ki no Tsurayuki
Aki no no no kusa wa ito to mo mienaku ni oku shiratsuyu o tama to nukuran
The grass of the autumn fields does not look like thread at all—so why is the white dew that settles on it strung like jewels?
Gosen Wakashu - Ki no Tsurayuki
Shiratsuyu ni kaze no fukishiku aki no no wa tsuranuki tomenu tama zo chirikeru
In the autumn fields where the wind keeps blowing on the white dew, jewels that were never strung on a thread lie scattered everywhere.
Gosen Wakashu - Fun'ya no Asayasu
Aki no no ni oku shiratsuyu o kesa mireba tama ya shikeru to odorokaretsutsu
When I looked this morning at the white dew on the autumn fields, I was startled, wondering whether jewels had been spread across them.
Gosen Wakashu - Mibu no Tadamine
Oku kara ni chigusa no iro ni naru mono o shiratsuyu to nomi hito no iuran
As soon as it settles, it takes on the colors of all the many grasses—so why do people call it nothing but "white" dew?
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Shiratama no aki no ko no ha ni yadoreru to miyuru wa tsuyu no hakaru narikeri
That white jewels seem to be lodged on the autumn leaves is only a trick the dew has played.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Aki no no ni oku shiratsuyu no kiezaraba tama ni nukite mo kakete mitemashi
If the white dew on the autumn fields did not vanish, I would string it like jewels and hang it up to gaze upon.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Karakoromo sode kutsuru made oku tsuyu wa waga mi o aki no no to ya miruran
The dew that settles on the sleeves of my Chinese robe until they rot—does it take me for an autumn field?
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Ōzora ni waga sode hitotsu aranaku ni kanashiku tsuyu ya wakite okuran
My sleeve is not the only one beneath the vast sky—so why, sadly, does the dew single it out to settle on?
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Asa goto ni oku tsuyu sode ni uketamete yo no uki toki no namida ni zo karu
Each morning I catch the falling dew in my sleeves and store it, to borrow as tears when the world becomes too hard to bear.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Aki no no no kusa mo wakenu o waga sode no mono omou nae ni tsuyukekaruran
I have not pushed through the grasses of the autumn fields—so why are my sleeves wet with dew as I sink into brooding?
Gosen Wakashu - Ki no Tsurayuki
Ikuyo hete nochi ka wasuren chirinubeki nobe no akihagi migaku tsukiyo o
How many ages must pass before I forget this moonlit night, polishing the autumn bush clover of the fields that will soon scatter?
Gosen Wakashu - Kiyohara no Fukayabu
Aki no yo no tsuki no kage koso ko no ma yori ochiba goromo to mi ni utsurikere
The light of the autumn moon, slipping through the trees, settled on me like a robe of fallen leaves.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Sode ni utsuru tsuki no hikari wa aki goto ni koyoi kawaranu kage to mietsutsu
The moonlight reflected on my sleeves seems, every autumn, the same light as tonight, unchanged.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Aki no yo no tsuki ni kasanaru kumo harete hikari sayaka ni miru yoshi mogana
If only the clouds that lie across the autumn moon would clear, and there were some way to see its light shining clear.
Gosen Wakashu - Unknown Poet