Short Poems

On love:
So great the pain,
I've passed the days
without speaking of sorrow,
till my thoughts are worn out
and I no longer hate you

Poem of parting:
Your hand among them
waving —
plumes of pampas grass

On the death of his younger sister:
Firefly
fading away pitifully
on my palm

You erect pagodas,
build Buddha halls,
but far more merit lies
in repenting
the ill you do others

When a lady-in-waiting with whom he was intimate asked permission to go to a distant province:
When the wild goose
has flown far off
beyond the mountain,
its companion, left alone,
will surely cry

The waves of the great sea,
rending, toppling,
splitting, scattering,
thunder in
upon the rocky shore

Written in the seventh month of 1211, when the farmers were much troubled by floods:
Too much
at one time
is a grief to the people —
O Eight Great Dragon Kings,
stop the rain!

[Believed to be addressed to Retired Emperor Gotoba]
Though a time come
when mountains crack
and seas go dry,
never to my lord
will I be found double-hearted!

This world —
call it an image
caught in a mirror —
real it is not,
nor unreal either

So cold the night,
the foam drifting
on the river rapids
is frozen before
it can melt away