At Obanazawa we inquired after a man called Seifu who, though a rich merchant, had no vulgarity in him. He had often been to and from the capital and so knew what wayfaring was like. He pressed us to stay with him for a few days - to refresh outselves after the rigors of so long a journey - and took all manner of good care of us. I wrote some verses while staying with him.

I sit for a spell,
Taking the coolness as my house,
Idling in comfort.

Come, jump out, there --
Under the silkworm nursery,
The croak of a toad.

Taking its image
From a little cosmetic brush,
Flowering rouge-thistle.

Minding their silkworms,
People keep the simple appearance
Of ages long past.