At the tunnel’s end,
I see the snow country.
Heavy bough bends
Then breaks abruptly.

January’s Sakura,
Stands in the court yard.
Sweet scent drifting,
To Honden’s guard.

Fourteen is Izu’s dancer.
Singing in Shinto’s garden.
Leaving a heart without answer,
For she askes of beauties olden.

Awake to snow’s calling
I hear the petals falling
The flower at midnight
Yet asleep