Atami

Midnight dreams broken by the hissing roar—
hot water boiling from the roots of the cliff;
pipes this way and that lead the water, houses wreathed in steam,
every inn fitted with a bath, rooms let out to travelers.
By the sea's border land is warm—winter it never snows,
though cold days on mountain paths, one treads through frost at dawn.
A far-off island in fine rain, black with clouds and fog;
over red tides I watch the moon sink dimly out of sight.
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Author of original: 
Chugan Engetsu
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