Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps' nest.
Spring rain conveyed under the trees in drops.
Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
Even in Kyoto/Hearing the cuckoo's cry/I long for Kyoto
All my friends / viewing the moon – / an ugly bunch.