Where the sunrise scarlet water
Sprinkles on the cabbage beds,
А young maple tree is sucking
At its mother’s pale green breast.
The sky’s flushed face
for love’s nomad
my inmost thoughts recall
an autumn sunset
when the deer’s call
echoes over fields.
Fujiwara no Yoshitsune
The darkness wears the guise of rising smoke
and the sky is filled with opening stars for sparks
as the sun descends into the sunset fire.
As his loves, the lotuses, bow down in grief,
lamenting with the cry of struggling bees,
the goddess of the day turns west and joins him in his death.