Classic Poem

In the Second Month, on the twenty-sixth,
we set sail and left Kuwana.
On the sea the rising sun emerged;
the sky's hue showed morning clarity.
Unexpectedly clouds formed, ran wild,
alligators and whales began to battle.
Rearing waves higher than houses,
our boat moved far below them.
Where it was heading we never knew
in roars like a thousand thunderous peals.
The helmsman's face was earthen gray,
the whole boat dizzy as if badly drunk.
Only when a distant isle was sighted,

everyone seemed to calm down.
If they had known truth well,
they'd have equated death with life.
Pity, the passengers in the boat
each should have offered Buddhist prayers.