Yesterday it was this way too—
today again it will be like this.
Why fret your life away
forever worrying about tomorrow?

How many times have I gone down into the valley
where dreams of glory and decay still linger,
seen the uncertain drift of the river waves,
sand-laden water that circles and returns?

Ah, what is the old castle saying?
What do the waves along the shore reply?
Be still and consider the ages gone by—
a hundred years are like yesterday

Chikuma River willows are hazy,
spring is shallow, the water flows on.
Alone I wander over the rocks,
binding my sorrows to this shore