Presently, the boat passed the Uda pine woods. It was impossible to imagine how many trees might be standing there, or how many thousands of years they might have lived. The waves came up to their roots, and cranes flew back and forth among the branches. Too deeply moved to admire the spectacle in silence, one passenger composed a poem that went something like this:
(Mostly Classical) Japanese Literature: poetry and prose; excerpts, translations, and other drafts of a scholar