The autumn wind (In his ennui he blew cold)
Across the rice ears, (On our love)
So sad;
Empty of grain (My heart desolate)
Are they left.
Back to Ono no Komachi
The autumn wind (In his ennui he blew cold)
Across the rice ears, (On our love)
So sad;
Empty of grain (My heart desolate)
Are they left.
