So much beauty home–flowers filled the house.
So much beauty gone–nothing but this empty bed,

your embroidered quilt rolled up, never used.
It’s been three years. Your scent still lingers,

your scent gone and yet never ending.
But now you’re gone, never to return,

thoughts of you yellow leaves falling,
white dew glistening on green moss.

translated by Daviid Hinton