That our peace-ruling king

Was wont to behold in the evening

And would visit when morning came

Would he not this very day too

Have gone to inquire of them

Would he not then tomorrow as well

Have set his eyes upon them

As I turn my gaze to discern that hill from afar

With the day's waning I am strangely sad

And when morning comes again

I while away the hours with melancholy heart

And the sleeves of my coarse-cloth robe

Have not the time to dry

Man'yoshu 159

Do they not say there even is a way

To wrap a burning flame and put it in a bag?

But what enjoyment are tricks like these

When there is no way to know his face again?

Man'yoshu 160

(Attributed to Jito)

Between the blue and layered clouds

Above the northern hills

A star moves off. and so recedes the moon

Man'yoshu 161