A poem composed on the road:

Red, red is the sun,
Heartlessly indifferent to time,
The wind knows, however,
The promise of early chill.

At the place called Dwarf Pine:

Dwarfed pine is indeed
A gentle name, and gently
The wind brushes through
Bush-clovers and pampas.

I went to the Tada Shrine located in the vicinity, where I saw Lord Sanemori's helmet and a piece of brocaded cloth that he had worn under his armor. According to the legends, these were given him by Lord Yoshitomo while he was still in the service of the Minamotos.* The helmet was certainly an extraordinary one, with an arabesque of gold crysanthemums covering the visor and the ear plate, a fiery dragon resting proudly on the crest, and two curved horns pointing to the sky. The chronicle of the shrine gave a vivid account of how, upon the heroic death of Lord Sanemori,* Kiso no Yoshinaka had sent his important retainer Higuchi no Jiro to the shrine to dedicate the helmet with a letter of prayer.

I am awe-struck
To hear a cricket singing
Underneath the dark cavity
Of an old helmet.*