A sweet romanticism,
I think of green long skirts with nostalgia
when the violets flower.
　

Pitiful, a poppy anemone,
were you born from the fingertips of
graceful Chinese ladies?
　

Feeling "Autumn, now!", abolishing a
rickshaw,
a girl with stout hips is passing by bicycle.
　

When the Jinmu Gate is closed,
the square tower lies buried in
the deep scarlet western sky.
　

When I broke up with her and came here,
the walls were cinnabar red,
the crowns of pagoda trees were seen vaguely,
the leaves began to change their colors.