The poem that rhymed too much
Courtesy of TSUBOI Shōgorō (1863-1913), archaeologist/anthropologist. Note that it also uses a 7/5 mora pattern, as most "free" poetry of the time did.
Iki no deiri to/ karada no chi
Shika no mi narazu/ yoki kokochi
Kiyoki tamashii/ kore inochi
Tokei no meguri/ hayaku tachi
Niwaka ni kawaru/ hari no ichi
Toshi wa sugu to mo/ waza to sachi
Naki wa sunawachi/ munōmuchi
Ōku kangae/ ki o tamochi
Yoki hataraki o/ naseru nochi
Nagashi to iwan/ kono inochi
Prose translation:
The in-and-out of the breath, the blood of the body—not only this, but also right feelings, a pure spirit: this is life. Around the clock we quickly move—how eagerly the hands change! Who though years pass has no trade or fortune is, in short, incompetent and ignorant. Think widely and deeply, maintain your spirits, and let us call this life long only after we have done good works.
claytonian:
Is this proof that Japanese should know what to do when we play the rhyming round of circle of death?