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Omoi amari ita mo sube nami tamadasuki unebi no yama ni ware shime yuitsu
My longing overflowing, utterly at a loss, I have tied my marking rope on Mount Unebi.
Fuyukomori haru no ōno o yaku hito wa yaki taranekamo waga kokoro yaku
Those who burn the wide fields in spring—is burning the fields not enough for them? They set my heart ablaze as well.
Katsuragi no takama no kaya no haya shirite shime sasamashi o ima zo kuyashiki
Had I only known of the reed fields of Takama in Katsuragi early on, I would have staked my claim to them—how bitterly I regret it now.
Waga yado ni ouru tsuchihari kokoro yu mo omowanu hito no kinu ni surayu na
Tsuchihari growing in my garden—never let yourself be rubbed into the robe of one who does not love you from the heart.
Tsukikusa ni koromo irodori surame domo utsurou iro to iu ga kurushisa
I would color a robe by rubbing it with dayflower, but they say its hue soon fades—and that is what pains me.
Murasaki no ito o zo waga yoru ashihiki no yamatachibana o nukamu to omoite
I am twisting a purple thread, thinking to string on it the red berries of the mountain orange.
Matama tsuku ochi no sugahara ware karazu hito no karamaku oshiki sugahara
The sedge fields of Ochi—I have not cut them myself, yet how I would grudge it if others were to cut those sedge fields.
Yama takami yūhi kakurinu asajihara nochi mimu tame ni shime yuwamashi o
The mountains are so high that the evening sun has hidden—I should have tied a marker rope on this field of cogon grass so that I could see it later.
Kochitaku wa kamo kamo semu o iwashiro no nobe no shitakusa ware shi karite ba
If tongues wag too loudly, let them—I will manage one way or another, so long as it is I who have cut the hidden grass of the fields at Iwashiro.
Matori sumu unade no mori no suga no ne o kinu ni kakitsuke kisemu ko mogamo
I wish there were a girl who would rub the sedge roots from the sacred grove of Unade, where eagles dwell, into a robe and dress me in it.
Tsune naranu hitokuniyama no akizuno no kakitsubata o shi ime ni mishi kamo
On the Akizu fields of Mount Hitokuni—named for men, who never stay the same—I saw the irises in my dreams.
Ominaeshi sakisawa no he no makuzuhara itsu kamo kurite waga kinu ni kimu
The kudzu fields beside the marsh of Saki—when shall I reel in their vines and wear them as my robe?
Kimi ni niru kusa to mishi yori waga shimeshi noyama no asaji hito na kari so ne
Ever since I saw it as a grass that resembles you, I have staked my claim—so let no one cut the cogon grass of these fields and hills.
Mishimae no tamae no komo o shimeshi yori onoga to zo omou imada karanedo
Ever since I staked my claim to the wild rice of Tamae in Mishima Bay, I have thought of it as mine—though I have not yet cut it.
Kaku shite ya nao ya oinamu miyuki furu ōarakino no shino ni aranaku ni
Must I go on like this and grow old after all? I am no bamboo grass on the fields of Ōaraki where the snow falls.
Ōmi no ya yabase no shino o ya hagazute makoto ariemu ya kōshiki mono o
The bamboo grass of Yabase in Ōmi—could I truly leave it without making it into arrows, when I long for it so?