Classic Poem

On your grave
are yellow chrysanthemums,
on your grave
are sakaki branches

On their leaves
the dew lies thick —
are they heavy, perhaps,
these tokens?

Some day will you wake
from your sleep?
Some day will you come back,
my mother?

The sprightly children
the strong men —
all end as
dust and mire

Ah, do not
wake again!
Ah, do not
return!

Though in spring
the cherry flowers
bloom and scatter
on your grave

Though in summer
the tangled lights
of fireflies
stream above your grave

Though in autumn
the sad rains
of autumn
soak your grave

Though in winter
the pure white snow
may freeze
upon your grave

Pillowed and dreaming
in your long sleep,
have no fear,
my mother