Classic Poem

In all-under-heaven where our sovereign,
familiar with the eight corners, is heard,
the provinces are many,
but she feels close to the province of Yoshino
where the mountain river meanders, sparkling,
and in the field of Akizu where cherry blossoms fall,
she has built herself a thick-pillared palace.
Here the courtiers of the hundred-acre palace
cross the morning river, their boats side by side,
cross the evening river, their boats racing.
Uninterrupted as this river,
as lofty as these mountains, she rules.
This capital of boiling waterfalls
never tires my eyes.

ENVOY

Like the constant moss of Yoshino River that never tires my eyes, uninterrupted will I
return to look at the palace