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- Shui Wakashu
Shiratsuyu wa ue yori oku o ika nareba hagi no shitaba no mazu momizuran
The white dew settles from above, so why is it that the lower leaves of the bush clover are the first to take on autumn color?
Shui Wakashu - Fujiwara no Korehira
Saoshika no shigarami fusuru akihagi wa shitaba ya ue ni narikaeru ran
The autumn bush clover that the stag tangles about his legs and tramples down: perhaps its lower leaves have been turned over to lie on top.
Shui Wakashu - Oshikochi no Mitsune
Akihagi wa mazu sasu e yori utsurou o tsuyu no waku to wa omowazaranamu
The autumn bush clover changes color from the branches that grew out first, so please do not think that the dew is playing favorites in tinting it.
Shui Wakashu - Mibu no Tadamine
Chitose furu matsu no shitaba no irozuku wa ta ga shitagami ni kakete kaesu zo
The lower leaves of a pine that should stay green for a thousand years take on color: who is it, then, and upon what, that hangs them to dye them over again?
Shui Wakashu - Fujiwara no Korehira
Matsu to iedo chitose no aki ni aikureba shinobi ni otsuru shitaba narikeri
Though it is a pine, it has met a thousand autumns, and so these are lower leaves that fall quietly, unnoticed.
Shui Wakashu - Oshikochi no Mitsune
Shirotae no shiroki tsuki o mo kurenai no iro o mo nado ka akashi to iu ran
Both the moon, shining pure white, and the color crimson: why is it that we call each of them "akashi"?
Shui Wakashu - Fujiwara no Korehira
Mukashi yori iishikinikeru koto nareba warera wa ikaga ima wa sadamen
Since it is what people have always said from the days of old, how could we, at this late day, decide it anew?
Shui Wakashu - Oshikochi no Mitsune
Kage mireba hikari naki o mo koromo nuu ito o mo nado ka yoru to iu ran
The lightless time when we see only shadows, and the thread with which we sew our robes: why is it that we call both of them "yoru"?
Shui Wakashu - Fujiwara no Korehira
Mubatama no yoru wa koishiki hito ni aite ito o mo yoreba au to ya wa minu
At night one meets the person one longs for, and thread, once twisted, comes together: do we not see both as "meeting"?
Shui Wakashu - Oshikochi no Mitsune
Yoru hiru no kazu wa misoji ni amaranu o nado Nagatsuki to iihajimeken
The number of nights and days in a month never exceeds thirty, so why did people first begin to call the ninth month the "Long Month"?
Shui Wakashu - Fujiwara no Korehira
Aki fukami koi suru hito no akashikane yo o Nagatsuki to iu ni ya aru ran
Autumn grows deep, and those in love cannot bring the night to its end; perhaps that is why, the nights being long, it is called the "Long Month."
Shui Wakashu - Oshikochi no Mitsune
Mizu no awa ya tane to naru ran ukikusa no maku hito nami no ue ni oureba
Has the foam on the water become seed? For the floating weed grows upon the waves where no one sows it; with the contest never held, there is no one to lose.
Shui Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Tane nakute naki monogusa wa oinikeri maku chō koto wa araji to zo omou
Without any seed, the grass called "Nothing There" has grown; so I think there will be no sowing, and no losing either.
Shui Wakashu - The Monk Egyo
Waga koto wa e mo iwashiro no musubimatsu chitose o futomo tare ka toku beki
My riddle is beyond all words; like the knotted pine of Iwashiro, even if a thousand years pass, who could ever untie it?
Shui Wakashu - Sone no Yoshitada
Ashihiki no yama no kodera ni sumu hito wa waga iu koto mo kanawazarikeri
The one who lives in the small temple in the mountains will not grant even what I ask.
Shui Wakashu - Unknown Poet
Yama naranu sumika amata ni kiku hito no nobushi ni toku mo narinikeru kana
You, who I heard had many dwellings that were not in the mountains, have so soon become a monk who lies out in the fields!
Shui Wakashu - Minamoto no Tsunefusa