ML Gyokuyoshu Summer (June 2020)

At Reiwa Kasho, we exchange songs on ML (mailing list). We compose songs as we please, regardless of genre, such as poems about flowers, birds, wind and moon, or realistic songs from everyday life. You are free to join or withdraw, so please feel free to join.

→“Utayomi mailing list (participation & withdrawal)

This month's five picks

When I woke up, the sky was filled with clouds, and I could see hydrangeas in the mustard garden.
A sea of words blowing in the wind at Wakanoura, a sea of words that we should return to from time to time.
I feel nostalgic about the sound of plovers singing in the morning when the rippling waves of the Saho River stop.
The beginning of my trip to Utamakura is as a walker who is in a good mood.
It's raining in May, and when I go to the end of the day, I'm lonely and I'm holed up drinking deeply.

This month's poetry list

The summer clouds rise at the edge of the mountain, and the rising sun rises with pride.
My hometown is Tatsumi in the capital, but Musashi is even more special.
Gaan is in Higashi Musashi, the capital, and when you see Higashiyama, this is Nishiyama.
Autumn wheat spreads in the middle of the blue The pearls of light that embrace it burst
There's a cloud in the blue sky that makes you think of summer, and there are golden waves on the ground.
When the wind blows, the waves spread out, layered with wheat, and the arrival of summer.
It rains in May, and the morning continues to rain without washing away the darkness in people's hearts.
The world is a cloudy road, run through it, it's still a shallow summer.
The scent of barley stands out as well, and I might drink it as it bubbles, bursts, and shakes.
You know there's a blue sky above the clouds, looking up at the sky looking for a path.
Even if you drink up the clouds of a long time ago and fan them, the sky you say is
Enjoying a drink alone in the evening listening to the sound of the rain in May
It was late in the evening when the May rain hit Madoka and I opened the prepared noble rot.
You and your 20-year-old pearls, breathe in the golden season from the scent of the barley and enrich yourself.
The moon of Ariake looks nothing but waves as it rests on the golden autumn wheat.
If you look far away, you'll only see the waves of the ears of wheat.
Once upon a time, Kyoto is now Musashino Azuma, Kyoto is Kyoto, and Uji is Yamashiro.
It's been too long since I've been in the middle of a long time. I'm so nostalgic.
These days I decide to sing a song and pick up a ball on the shore of the waves that stand in my heart.
If you look up at the sky from between the hollow branches of the tree, the light will sparkle.
The sacred mountain of Ikoma, where pieces come back to life if you row out into the sea of Namba.
I see a dream again in the sky of the dawn crow.
Those who pull the secret song Tsunade are afraid of the Ufu of Kamakura.
Visitors, mark Shimousa's incense with smoke.
If you sit outside and listen to a hundred birds, the same birds carry a pine tree on their backs and play together.
When I woke up, the sky was filled with clouds, and I could see hydrangeas in the mustard garden.
The Mozu imitates and sings in unison.
Izuko Iwami and Hitomaro ask this question from between the trees of Iwaminoya and Mt. Takazuno.
I can't see anything when I bite it, so I guess I'll just wait for the original green time.
When my love comes to Wakanoura, it will be calm and Iwami will see smoke in Izumo.
A customer sitting in the last row of my seat was watching the lapping waves of Uranami and fishing.
The scenery of the water that spreads across the map
Tomorrow, when I open, I will place a flower that will never die in the world.
On a moonlit night when the smell of beaks beckons, the white petals are filled with dew.
Satsukiame Tsubakurahiya Udokiri and Hosuharamani Miyuru and Konatsu no Hana
Hanado Makoto blooms in the morning, and when the world and I go to you and my friends, happiness comes to Hitama.
The flowers bloom under the tree, and the leaves of the unsatisfactory words that smell like flowers should be written down.
I'm looking at the stray cat over there to see if this sickle gets into my eyes.
When the sun is too bright on a summer day, children cover their eyes and step out of their protective cages.
Every drop of dyed water that spills from the heavenly ladle leaves the flowers undyed.
The hydrangeas in full bloom and their colors reflect my heart, even though it rains more and more.
A sea of words blowing in the wind at Wakanoura, a sea of words that we should return to from time to time.
These days, I get used to standing at Tomaya on Wakanoura Beach, and the tides rise and fall.
When I'm in my 60's, I'm in my 60's and I'm going to change my path.
I rowed out to Namba Yasoshima and the golden sea sparkled brightly.
A city full of hydrangeas and sparkling lights after the rain
Oops, this blue cat is yawning and feeling sluggish in the early summer afternoon.
The next smile to bloom will be you, or maybe the world is a merry-go-round of hydrangeas.
Two mantises are floating in a ring of hydrangeas.
The bright colors are like waltzing hydrangeas, and they are like flowers.
There were flowers and flowers, and there was a lot of grass on the ground, and there was a lot of dirt on the edge of the ring.
When Anaya and Toko eat the mantis, they take the mantis in vain and eat it lol.
I beg you to pray and rub my feet, but I wonder where the sickle is in Kyoto.
Is it Satsuki? Pillow Book is Nagon, Mask Book is Satsuki Hato.
The mantis's thoughts spring up and flow and are reborn.
Enjoying Kyoto Uji tea, red bean paste, and the flow of Kizu trees on the back of Mt.
Summer is here, the rainy season has yet to arrive, and here I am, the shadow of the high sun stinging my skin.
Ashihara in summer swaying in the sand of the Kizugawa River
A long time ago, the sea of Monofu's shroud and Kozu are now long ago.
If there is a mist and a tea tree blooming, I wonder if there is a river like matcha.
Looking at the river, after the 88th night, there's pique shiratama zenzai on the mountain.
I'm so happy that I can finally sleep in the shadow of the sun even though it's hot today.
When did I see the weak Kyo man with a sickle on the back of a mountain?
The younger sister of the mountain spine is the city bird that does not move even if the wind is strong.
There is no river strong enough to collect the rain in May. A narrow path in the valley that leads to the shrine.
In May, when it rains, we talk on the narrow path where the umbrella flowers bloom, in front of the blooming hydrangeas.
Dewdrops fall on the palms under the blue sky of the falling May rain.
The rain of tears, both happy and sad, the hydrangeas dyed blue and red.
Time changes with the hydrangea as a guide. Cool down the sick world. The late rainy season.
The rain plays, and the sun treads in the ancient hometown, and the summer dance dances.
Is it an evening where we sing songs about the hydrangeas that are separated by no distance?
Umbrellas open in a variety of colors in the May rain. Gardenias bloom and smell like hydrangeas.
The words, layered with the colors of hydrangeas and separated by the rain and dew, are finally growing.
The smell of the flowers makes me think of all kinds of rain.
If you let it pass, the darkness of May will feel like an illusion, and the fireflies in the stream will finally light up.
As I think of this rain as sadness and gentleness, the seven-colored sounds play on Mizue.
Surrendering myself to the sound of the rain in May, I think back on those days.
When the incense and water droplets stop pouring over me, I leave them and scatter.
In the evening, the fluorescent lights fade and the remains of the Genji and Heike clans are separated.
It resembles a cloud that brings incense to Mihotoke's temple.
The hydrangeas begin to sing in unison to the tune of sushi and sounds.
The fun of singing that overlaps with the eight generations.The eight voices are colorful.
A small light illuminates the walking path on a rainy night
If it were easy to take care of Homura and go to the top of the clouds,
The rain drum beats in time with the song of the water hydrangeas on the eaves.
The banks of Kuji in Michinoku are still, I am the river chief of the village.
When the day dawns, the river chief of Kuji should get up and give him a water stick.
Naga no Tamakyo, who holds out the rinsing stream to the rocks with ripples on the bottom of the water.
I feel nostalgic about the sound of plovers singing in the morning when the rippling waves of the Saho River stop.
The cold water of Kuji, which is different from the May rains, is due to the whiteness of the stones at the bottom of the water.
I'm a newbie skating, trying to imitate the well-crafted humor.
Deliver a white ball to the blue clouds and go straight, just like the thoughts of young people
The sluggish water of the river quickly scatters in the May rain, reaching Kuji in a cold sweat.
Flying over the clouds carrying my thoughts, drawing a line of contrails
I shine a fluorescent light into the room and talk about my love for short nights while dreaming.
From now on, I'll dry it in the shade on the riverbed overnight.
If you think of it as a hydrangea, it's actually you, a chameleon floating in the moonlit night with your tongue sticking out.
The speed of the changeling body is a chameleon that follows the cat's eyes and autumn's emptiness.
If you look up at the sleeping night sky, you can see the colors of summer in the sky.
The evening moon leaves a shadow of the moon in the heat of the night I'm scooping up goldfish Tonight it's time to bloom
It feels like crossing a dream floating bridge in the waves of Midori Akashi no Ura.
If it doesn't get old, the river of poetry will close and the river will flow.
Late at night, I compose a song to answer, and even though it hurts, I'm not forgiven.
Umbrella flowers bloom everywhere, the shadow priest sways away, loving you.
The joy of laughing as you watch the fluttering tail and fins in the fishbowl
Because I want to cross the floating bridge to Akashi no Ura and meet the person I love.
As usual, I run through the river at the end of the rainy season, shouting as if I were not giving in to the waterfall.
My heart can't wait for the rainy season to end, and the words leak out from between the clouds.
When the floating bridge of the sky crosses the sky, the Futakami Ushionuma spear
Your heart cries and laughs. Is the rainy season over? We look up at the sky and pat each other on the shoulders.
In the pouring rain, all you see is a small lantern, a sign that summer has come.
Plum fruits and Minazuki 16 are picked in hopes of passing the age of 100 years in good health.
The delicious sound of rock sugar next to melting plums makes me happy.
If you stay under a tree for a while, you can see plum blossoms in the soft shade.
Brewing Miwa sake while watching the May rains during the short season.
Asobi to Hitotsuya and Tomo no Otosata to remember the shadow of summer.
The Osaka barrier that appears in many poems but never passes through.
As the samidare continues to look down, it lights up the snowy shores.
When I visit on a sunny day in the rain in May, I see the remains of a nostalgic time after the flowers fall.
A journey to visit all the beaches of Shikishima and compose poems from the comfort of your own home.
Let's listen to poetry poems.A trip from the comfort of your own home will take place in autumn these days.
On my way to school, drenched in the May rain, I thought I was back to my old self.
I guess it's the fun of windows that let you forget the time while you're there and travel with a swipe.
Aisaka's dream path opens, Yoi Tsumiki and Teka Koishiruran
Looking up at the retro public hall soaking in the May rain, you will see the Sendan wooden bridge.
You're in the middle of summer, the road is wet, and the light is making a lot of noise.
From the valley of books I have piled up and have yet to see, the sound of rain flows through my heart.
Warabi mochi soaked in brown sugar syrup to worship the eternal light of Kannon
Is the sound of words flapping their wings a mirror that reflects people's hearts in various ways?
Naru Himuro Shirayuki Kakigoori Enjoy Mt. Wakakusa happily
Imakomu and Izure no Mine and Mekanetesamitarekumono Sora no Kayohiji
The sound of the waterfall that lingers after the spray of water soars and blooms into the sky.
Is it the morning when I hear the voice of many leaves and polish the beaded drops of the May rain?
If you give me a drop of water, I'll give you a drop of bamboo, and I'll sprinkle it too much. If you raise the net, you will raise the net and think that this person will also get wet, so you will shake it too much and pretend that the seams will be wet. In the morning of the light
The rain clouds will fall and summer will come when I shoot an arrow from the raindrops of the field.
Purple flowers in a basket in the May rain
The path of dreams at dawn The scent that dwells on my sleeve is still here
A song that resonates deeply with the understanding that it is best to return the words.
It's chilly this morning as the May rain continues, keeping the warmth of the short night's eve.
The solar eclipse is hidden behind the clouds, and the rustling wind announces the time.
The words of the moon rippling with ripples trembling on the surface of the water.
Summer is coming with a smile on my face when I see the hydrangeas blooming all over the place.
The sparrows making noise at dawn after a short night, will they tell me that it's sunny today?
The music of the rain leaves playing with the drops of my soul to the melody of the words
I wonder if it will flow and flow and turn into a waterfall as spring turns into summer?
I long for the quiet sea of Omi, but there is never a day without rough waves and wind.
Tsunade is confused by the chirping voice of the plover and wanders on a small boat.
If you leave your journey inland rather than on the sea, you can live in a dazzling world.
The beginning of my trip to Utamakura is as a walker who is in a good mood.
Our hermitage is in the land of Aki, close to Miyajima, where Iwami's Tatsumi deer also lives.
Oteruya, a loon born in the sea of Namba, grows at the foot of the sacred mountain of Ikoma.
In the middle of the rainy season, it was a long journey to Aki, but the trees died in Wakanoura.
No matter what the country of Tsu is, I also have a hot spring in the Nanba River.
The depths of Izumo is far away, but Yakumo has given up on himself.
I thought that the flowers of the waves are colorless, but I wonder if it is Wakanoura that never ends.
The wet pigeon goes on and on, and Satsuki's Amaba crosses without drying up.
As the sun overlaps, the shadows of young Kaede cannot reach him, but the rain still reaches him.
Passing through Osaka, a short night wind blows past the Otowayan Seki.
Yokikaze is excited when he hears the news from Aki.
As we now know, if the wind blows through the separation of the hemp leaves, the Awareness of Aki will be overwhelming.
Maybe it's the parental love of watching over the fledglings trying to fly between the clouds of a rainstorm.
My wish is blowing even more, and in the horizontal wind, Kazuzoe, you are a beaded azure.
I know now that the colors and scents of the coming and going of the wind are deeply imprinted even though their names are still there.
The sky of Mizue is shining brightly in the joy of the rotten wood that is soaked in water even during the day.
The shadow of the moon floating in the water, the moon, the clouds, and the rain in May
Even if you look into it, there is no face reflected in the matcha, and when it is dried, it floats in the sky.
I wonder if it's a beach plover that comes to the beach between the paddles of the boat that floats in Wakanoura.
Shiratama's tea picking in Uji, where Kaonashi's feelings are also felt, is 80 nights.
Iwafune set sail for Naniwanooto, which echoes in the sea of fun and Naniwa.
Tamazusa's brush has surpassed the mountain of lazy drafts.
I heard that the protective weir will never end, and the falling white threads are about to break.
How can I cross without a face? There is no river floating on the rainy shore.
As the water overflowing from the eaves increases, it becomes the depths of the May rain.
There is a moon shadow in the Tamanoi well where the spring flows, and it tastes delicious when you draw water from it.
My feelings are slippery at the edge of the May rain, and if I follow the connection, it will be a drop of rain.
As I followed the line, the misty horizon appeared in all directions.
No matter how many times I scratch it, I still draw it.
Even though the thread is cut and the tree rots and people leave, your memory and the seeds of your words remain.
Even if it twists, the mouth of the present day will be received, and the heart of the present day will be opened.
Online flowing red thread corona birth with ties to Aizen
Burn the letters as you like and turn them over.
When it rains in the blue, the summer light scatters through the irises and shards of the roadside.
Although it is said that the color bleeds in the long rain, the color of the iris increases even more.
Above the clouds I look up at the summer sky, the rain in May is like falling iris flowers.
The rows of irises in bloom remind me of the elegant times of the palace.
Even in the May rain, the clouds dwindle in the blue sky where the rain remains.
People try to hide things in front of them, but they don't know what they're feeling.
Nokisinobuta's drippings are held at the edge of the pond.
If you think that the beads are shining from between the clouds, you will find the place where the thoughts will float.
Yamato fights with elegance to fight the coronavirus pandemic with a sword of iris
Drops of my soul fall in the May rain, overflowing with feelings and forming an abyss.
The fate of the rainy legs cannot be determined, and the days when the clothes are dry end at dusk
It's raining in May, and when I go to the end of the day, I'm lonely and I'm holed up drinking deeply.
If you look long enough, you'll see the purple iris and the flowers and the May rain on the eaves that you don't even know about.

Learn the basics of waka poetry and try reciting it!

We are holding a "Utajuku" with the goal of learning from representative classical works and being able to compose traditional "Waka" on an individual basis!