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So this is the place where those going and those returning part, where strangers and friends alike meet: the Barrier of Osaka.

If it lives up to its name — the vine of Mount Osaka, the hill of meeting — let it bring you to me unseen.

Whom shall I take now as a friend? Even the ancient pine of Takasago is no friend from the old days.

As for people, I cannot know their hearts — but in my old village the blossoms are fragrant as they always were.

Rumour that I am in love has gone around already, and I had only just begun to feel it, in secret.

Like a boatman crossing the Strait of Yura who has lost his oar — this path of love, with no knowing where it leads.

I cannot even tell you this much. Like the moxa of Mount Ibuki, you surely do not know how I burn.

I know that once it dawns the night will come again, and still the daybreak is hateful to me.

Do you know how long it takes for dawn to come, lying alone and grieving through the night?

Mountain cherry, feel for me as I feel for you. Here there is no one who knows me but your blossoms.

I do not know whether your heart will last, and this morning my black hair is as tangled as my thoughts.

My sleeves are the offshore rock that never shows even at low tide: unknown to anyone, never dry for a moment.

Name contains 知

Taira no Tomomori was the son of Taira no Kiyomori, and one of the Taira clan's chief commanders in the Genpei War at the end of the Heian period of…