tsuginefu Yamashiro-ji o hitozuma no uma yori yuku ni onozumashi kachi yori yukeba miru-goto ni ne-nomi shi nakayu soko omou ni kokoro shi itashi tarachine no haha ga katami to waga moteru masomi-kagami ni akizuhire oiname mochite umakae wagaseDown the highway to peak-strung Yamashiro[,] other husbands go mounted on their horses' backs, but my own husband trudges down that road on foot. Each time I see him[,] sobs come welling from my throat; when I think of it[,] my heart is sore within me. Take then the keepsake of my mother who fed me the milk of her breasts, this flawless-fine mirror she left me, and my dragonfly scarves--pack them up and take them away, go and buy a horse, my love.
