Classic Poem

Across the river of Asuka where the birds fly,
a stone bridge spans the upper shallows,
a log bridge spans the lower shallows.
The lovely waterweed that grows and wavers
from the stone bridge, ceases to be but grows again,
the river weed that grows and flourishes
from the log bridge, withers but sprouts again.
Why then, my sovereign,
have you forgotten the morning palace,
have you turned away from the evening palace
of your good lord, with whom you wavered,
resembling the lovely waterweed, when standing,
like the river weed, when lying?
While you thought you were in this world,
in springtime you would break off and sport a twig of blossoms,
when autumn came you would sport yellow leaves,
white-cloth sleeve to sleeve with him,
never tiring of looking at him, like a mirror,
thinking you admired him, a full moon,
more and more, as when, from time to time,
you came out to play with him
here at the Kinohe palace where the diners sit face to face.
Now you have decided to make it your permanent palace
and stopped eyeing him like a duck or talking.
That may be why, saddened beyond words,
a thrush, a husband in one-sided love,
a morning bird, your lord frequents this place,
wilted like summer grass by thoughts,
coming and going like the evening star,
hesitating like a great ship. When I see him like this,
I do not have the heart to console him.
And so I do not know what to do.
But the sound, your name, if nothing else, will not cease to be.
As far and everlasting as heaven and earth
I will go on longing for it. May Asuka River
of your name last for thousands of generations.
I feel close, my sovereign,
to your keepsake here.

ENVOYS

If we had spanned Asuka River with a weir to dam it, the flowing water would be full of
peace

Asuka River: would I ever think I'd see her tomorrow? Still I do not forget my sovereign's
name