From Kurobane, I headed toward Killer Rock astride a horse lent us by the warden. When the groom asked if I would write a poem for him, I gave him this, surprised and impressed that he should exhibit such cultivated taste:

no o yoko ni	A cuckoo song:
uma hikimuke yo	please make the horse angle off
hototogisu	across the field.

Killer Rock stands in the shadow of a mountain near a hot spring. It still emits poisonous vapors: dead bees, butterflies, and other insects lie in heaps near it, hiding the color of the sand. The willow "where fresh spring water flowed" survives on a ridge between two ricefields in Ashino Village.* The district officer there, a man called Koho, had often expressed a desire to show me the tree, and I had wondered each time about its exact location - but on this day I rested in its shade.

ta ichimai	Ah, the willow tree:
uete tachisaru	a whole rice paddy planted
yanagi ka na	before I set out.