- Top
- -
- Manyoshu
Suminoe no kishi ni ie mo ga oki ni he ni yosuru shiranami mitsutsu shinowamu
If only I had a house on the shore at Suminoe! I would gaze at the white waves rolling in, far out at sea and near the land, and delight in them.
Ōtomo no mitsu no hamabe o uchisarashi yosekuru nami no yukue shirazu mo
The waves that roll in, washing the beach at Mitsu in Ōtomo—where they go afterward, no one knows.
Kaji no oto zo honoka ni sunaru ama otome okitsumo kari ni funade surashi mo
Faintly I hear the sound of oars—the fisher girls must be setting out in their boats to cut seaweed far offshore.
Suminoe no nago no hamabe ni uma tatete tama hiriishiku tsune wasuraezu
At Suminoe, on the beach at Nago, I halted my horse and gathered bright pebbles—I can never forget it.
Ame wa furu kariio wa tsukuru itsu no ma ni ago no shiohi ni tama wa hiriwamu
The rain keeps falling, and the shelter must be built—so when am I ever to gather pebbles on the tide flats of Ago?
Nago no umi no asake no nagori kyō mo kamo iso no uramini midarete aru ramu
The lingering waves of dawn on the sea of Nago—are they tumbling in disarray again today along the curve of the rocky bay?
Suminoe no tōsatoono no mahari mochi sureru koromo no sakari sugiyuku
The robe I dyed with alder from the fields of Tōsato at Suminoe—its colors are passing their prime and fading away.
Tokitsukaze fukamaku shirazu ago no umi no asake no shio ni tamamo karite na
No one knows when the tide wind will rise—let us cut the lovely seaweed now on the sea of Ago, in the tide of early dawn.
Suminoe no okitsu shiranami kaze fukeba kiyosuru hama o mireba kiyoshi mo
When the wind blows, the white waves from far out at sea come rolling onto the beach at Suminoe—how pure and clear it is to see!
Suminoe no kishi no matsu ga ne uchisarashi yosekuru nami no oto no sayakesa
The waves that roll in, washing bare the roots of the pines on the Suminoe shore—how pure and clear their sound!
Naniwagata shiohi ni tachite miwataseba awaji no shima ni tazu wataru miyu
Standing on the tide flats of Naniwa and gazing far out, I see cranes flying across toward Awaji Island.
Iezakari tabi ni shi areba akikaze no samuki yūbe ni kari nakiwataru
Far from home, out on my journey, in the chill of an evening swept by autumn wind, the wild geese cross the sky, crying.
Matokata no minato no sudori nami tate ya tsuma yobitatete he ni chikazuku mo
The birds on the sandbar of Matokata harbor—is it because the waves are rising?—come in toward the shore, calling loudly for their mates.
Ayuchigata shiohinikerashi chita no ura ni asa kogu fune mo oki ni yoru miyu
The tide must have ebbed at Ayuchi Flats—I see even the boats rowing out at dawn from Chita Bay keeping far offshore.
Shio fureba tomo ni kata ni ide naku tazu no koe tōzakaru isomi surashi mo
When the tide ebbs, the cranes go out together onto the flats, crying—and now their voices fade into the distance; they must be foraging around the rocky shore.
Yūnagi ni asari suru tazu shio miteba okinami takami onozuma yobau
The cranes foraging in the evening calm—when the tide comes in and the offshore waves run high, each one calls and calls for its mate.