One Thousand Summers

As I wait for someone who will never come, my body burns like the seaweed drying on the shores of Matsuho.

So spring ends and summer comes, now white robes hang to dry on Mount Amanokagu.

Swift waters parted by the jagged rocks are joined at river’s end.

Since I could not hide my love, people would ask if I was pining for someone.

Impassionate gods have never seen crimson that lies in the Tatsuta River.

When winds send waves crashing against the rocks, I recall how my own efforts were in vain.

Note that though we may be apart, if I am to hear that you pine for me as the Inaba mountain pines, I shall return to you.

Like a boatsman adrift at the mouth of Yura, I do not know where this love will take me.