Classic Poem

From the place called Izumozaki in the province of Echigo, Sado Island, it's said, is eighteen li away on the sea. With the cragginess of its valleys and peaks distinctly in sight, it lies on its side in the sea, thirty-odd li from east to west. Light mists of early fall not rising yet, and the waves not high, I feel as if I could touch it with my hands as I look at it. On the island great quantities of gold well up and in that regard it's a most auspicious island. But from past to present a place of exile for felons and traitors, it has become a distressing name. The thought terrifies me. As the evening moon sets, the surface of the sea becomes quite dark. The shapes of the mountains are still visible through the clouds, and the sound of waves is saddening as I listen:
The rough sea: lying toward Sado Island, the River of Heaven