Fallen Cherry Blossoms

When I recall the months and years spent as the intimate of someone whose affections have now faded like cherry blossoms scattering even before a wind blew, I still remember every word of hers that once so moved me; and when I realise that she, as happens in such cases, is steadily slipping away from my world, I feel a sadness greater even that that of separation from the dead.

That is why , I am sure, a man once grieved that the utter purity of white silk thread should be dyed in different colours, and why another lamented that roads inevitably fork.

And amongst all of Kenko's verses presented, there is one that haunts me still. It runs:

The fence round her house,
The woman I loved long ago,
Is ravaged and fallen;
Only violets remain
Mingled with the spring weeds
-Kenko

What a lonely picture - the poem must describe something that really happened.