Classical Poetry of Nara

If only cherry blossoms never existed in this world— how peaceful our spring hearts would be

Across the spring meadow, mist trails softly— a tender sadness fills my heart as the warbler sings in evening's fading light

If these wild mountain cherries could bloom on, day after day— how endlessly I would adore them

Spring has slipped away— Summer arrives, they say, as white robes dry on sacred Mount Kagu

Beneath young pines on Nara's hills, a tender sedge lies hidden— who will notice it, who will care?

Down the Asuka River autumn leaves drift and swirl— the wind from Katsuragi has spoken.

Gazing far across the capital— willows and cherry blossoms woven together, a brocade of spring unfurled.

Like dye-rubbed robes of violet from Kasuga's spring meadows— my tangled heart knows no bounds

Why must spring mist veil Mount Miwa so? I too long to slip away unseen, to vanish where no eyes may follow.

Feel with me this tender sorrow, O mountain cherry— for besides your blossoms, I have no one who understands.