She may be thinking that I
Am no more in this world, yet my days
Are wasted in weeping.
Weeping, alas!
In the Tenth month I turned, my eyes full of tears, towards the intensely bright moon.
Even into the mind always clouded with grief,
There is cast the reflection of the bright moon.
Years and months passed away. Whenever I recollected the dream-like incident [of his death] my mind was troubled and my eyes filled so that I cannot think distinctly of those days.
My people went to live elsewhere and I remained alone in my solitary home. I was tired of meditation and sent a poem to one who had not called on me for a long time.
Weeds grow before my gate
And my sleeves are wet with dew,
No one calls on me,
My tears are solitary—alas!
She was a nun and she sent an answer:
The weeds before a dwelling house
May remind you of me!
Bushes bury the hut
Where lives the world-deserted one,
[1] Her father Takasué was appointed Governor of Kazusa in 1017, and the authoress, who was then nine years old, was brought from Kiōto to the Province.