I wonder what inspires a man to complain of “having nothing to do”...

They flock together like ants, hurry east and west, run north and south…

Kin’yo, an officer of the second rank, had a brother called the High Priest Ryōgaku, an extremely bad-tempered man…

If man were never to fade away like the dews of Adashino, never to vanish like the smoke over Toribeyama, but lingered on forever in the world, how things would lose their power to move us…