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Like the morning moon,

Cold, unpitying was my love.

Since that parting hour,

Nothing I dislike so much

As the breaking light of day.

百(ひゃく)人(にん)一(いっ)首(しゅ) #30 by 壬(み)生(ぶの)忠(ただ)岑(みね)

Notes on this poem

Translation by Clay MacCauley via Hyakunin-Isshu (Single Songs of a Hundred Poets), 1917

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