artless are the notes
your childlike fingers strum
the koto music of Japan soars to the sky
listening to you play a melody
clean, then tripping, and halting
your aging father tears up with no cause
even though the times are such that
warriors are fighting many battles
morning after morning like this day
may maidens' koto melodies resonate
soaring to the sky overarching our nation

Translation: 2010, Takako Lento