I remember one interesting and affecting incident from that reign [of Emperor Murakami]. A plum tree in front of the Seiryōden had died, and His Majesty was looking for a replacement. He entrusted the matter to a certain gentleman who was serving as a Chamberlain at the time. “Young people can't recognize a good tree,” the Chamberlain said to me. “You find one for us.” After walking all over the capital without success, I located a beautiful specimen, covered with deep red blossoms, at a house in the western sector. As I was digging it up, the owner sent someone out with a message. “Attach this to it before you carry it away·“ I supposed there was some reason behind it, so I took the paper along. The Emperor saw it and said, “What's that?” It was a poem in a woman's hand: