TAEKO TAKAORI
| A magpie bird, singing, is pointed out to me — moving the umbrella — the boat being turned with the oar — there, just ahead! | Cast upon the ground the shadow of my own self is being walked through while my back is carrying the brightness of the moon. |
| On the dawn-reddened sky they are spreading out, the singing cranes, a thousand of the cranes, and each voice a distinct voice. | Because the songbird pauses while flying there is a ceaseless swaying of the willow's sheer branches and a fall of loosened snow. |
| As on this day after I die also there will come again from young persimmon leaves a tapping sound of rain. | Now at evening light accumulates around a standing crane and it is only there shining continues without darkening. |
| The river's breadth is narrowed by abundant water hyacinths too late for flowering but green and profoundly quiet.  |
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