Sanuki no Suke’s Diary (0)

The May sky is clouded, and the farmers' clothes, soaked in the rain as they plant rice, look like they'll never dry.  These already dreary days, but my peaceful village life, bring back memories of the past and present more than usual, making me feel somehow melancholic.  I step out onto the veranda and look outside, and the clouds and sky are dark and overcast, as if pitying me.  Seeing this, I nod in agreement with Murasaki Shikibu (976-1036), who wrote:

The clouds must be the cremation smokes

Of my beloved

They miss me and pity me.

My heart seems to grow dark.  Just like the poem of Tachibana Toshitsuna (1028-1094), my tears flow continually:

The May rain sprinkles

On the eaves and on the sweet flags

To make their dew.

The mountain cuckoo sings as if speaking to me, and the short summer night fades away—as the night passes, I recall memories of the distant past, and tears flow uncontrollably.

When I think back, I served my lord, Emperor Horikawa, admiring the flowers in spring and the maple leaves in autumn, gazing at the moonlit sky, accompanying him on snowy mornings, and serving him closely for eight years. During that time, there were always many wonderful events, and I will never forget the early morning worship services and the sound of the flute being played at dusk. Hoping that this would help ease my sadness, I continued writing down all the things I remember, until my eyes became blurred with tears and I could no longer see the tip of my pen. My tears dripped into the water on the inkstone, smearing the lines of my writing and making them unreadable. I wrote in the hope that writing like this would somehow ease my sadness but it’s just like seeing the bright moon over Mt. Senicide.  The situation didn't let my sadness go, and it was truly unbearable.