(May 28) Intending to ride down the Mogamigawa, waited at a place called Oishida for good weather. Here the seeds of old haikai sown, brought back past times and unforgotten flowers, cry of a reed-flute easing heart, gone astray trying to make both ways at once, the new and the old, no one to guide them, left them a collection of no great merit. But as far as furyu had till then come.