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has come to the bridge head, Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a thousand gates, At morning there are flowers to cut the heart, And evening drives them on the eastward-flowing waters. Petals are on the gone waters and on the going, And on the back-swirling eddies, But to-day's men are not the men of the old days, Though they hang in the same way over the bridge-rail.

The sea's colour moves at the dawn And the princes still stand in rows, about the throne, And the moon falls over the portals of Sei-go-yo, And clings to the walls and the gate-top. With head gear glittering against the cloud and sun, The lords go forth from the court, and into far borders.