Governing a prefecture takes no special skills
what bothers me is eating for free
leaving the capital was senseless
I'm still on the road in midwinter
but a breath is born in this darkest month
when the sun is at its southern limit
I suffer the seasonal malaise
not to mention the pain of separation
at a private banquet I called it quits
returning to my quarters just before dawn
distant scenes merged with the empty sky
a lone candle lit my blanket
I keep thinking we should be together this night
then I try to forget last year's joys
the water route home is long and uncertain
and my bed frame is wet with tears