Classic Poem

Under a tree both soup and fish salad are covered with cherry blossoms
the westerly sun peaceful, it's fine weather
a traveler passes scratching louse bites as spring ends
he hasn't learned how to sport a sword with sheath-cover properly
come the bright moon, promotions are made at the temporary palace
the woodcutter made a rice-huller swiftly
to the saddled three-year-old horse the autumn has come
the rain changes its name in various ways
men and women bathe in a Suwa hot spring as evening grows dark
among them a tall exorcist
pushing an argument off to one side
from a tenuous point her love has grown intense
when lost in thought, she's prodded to eat
looking at the moon, her face—sleeves laden with dew
on a boat in an autumn wind she's scared of the sound of waves
geese fly away toward Shiroko, Wakamatsu
a thousand scrolls recited at Ishinden under blossoms in their prime
a pilgrim died on the road where heat haze rises
above all a butterfly in reality stirs pity
not enough strength even to write a letter
with a silk gauze a noble figure avoids the sun
he weeps, insisting, “I'd like to see Kumano”
at Ki the barrier guard with a short bow is obstinate
his bald head must be due to excessive drinking
so dark now the dots on the dice are peered at
facing his temporary altar he says prayers
“Say what you will, I sit on the earth floor and suffer no fleas!”
“I am, in this village, a butt of derision”
he's hated for being a busybody over the dance festival
night after moonlit night, the moon until dawn
the pampas grass, having beckoned for too long, is now withered
his is simply a square grass hut with dew
“I've sent back the money, saying, ‘That's bothersome’”
the decision is not to take the doctor's drugs
when blossoms come into bloom he runs about places like Yoshino
getting bitten by gadflies in springtime mountains