Translated by Michihiro Ama in “Neglected Diary, Forgotten Buddhist Couple: Tana Daisho’s Internment Camp Diary as Historical and Literary Text,” Journal of Global Buddhism 14 (2013)
Saying, “To the Buddha,” young girls pick flowers and hand them to me;
I delightedly offer them to the Buddha.
みほとけにと手折りし花を少女らは我に給ひぬうれしく供ふ
From the peaks of the Sierras, winds blow this way and that:
In the dead of night, I pile on more clothes because of cold.
シエルの嶺ゆ吹き来る風の冷たさに真夜ともなればかけ衣をます
During a Dharma Talk, cries of a cricket are heard from time to time;
How like the voices of the Buddha.
法語つづくひまひまにきくこほろぎの音もみ仏のみこゑかのごと
Opening a sacred text I carry;
The voices of the devout chant a sutra in unison.
我がもちし聖典ひらき人びとの声を合はして誦経をするかも
When rains come, clouds leave.
How like the world of impermanence
This sudden change, where no one lives forever.
(Ama, p. 51)
雨くると空の雲ゆきすぐ変わる常なき人の世のさまに似て
（『サンタフェー・ローズバーグ戦時敵国人抑留所日記』第一巻 １９４)
Minding a sick child who seeks mother’s affection,
I cannot progress with my needlework, or even wipe away my perspiration.
母恋ふる病む児を憶ひ針もてる手もすすまざる汗も拭かざる
Skimming his diary without stop makes my eyes moist;
When I put it down, I realize I have forgotten to even wipe off my perspiration.
うるむ瞳を日記に走らせいきつかずよみ終りたり汗もわすれて
Wandering without a husband for whom I yearn,
I look with nostalgia at his handwriting, reading it again and again.
さまよへる我を導くなつかしき夫の筆あとくり返し読む
My husband is about to touch my face;
When I awake from that dream, the flickering of stars enters my eyes.
夫の手の我が面に触るるとして醒めし目に入るものか星のまたたき
The lullaby I croon seems to wake the child;
He croons with me while half asleep.
(Ama, p. 52)
めしか歌ふ調べに小さき子は覚むると見えず共に歌ひぬ
（『サンタフェー・ローズバーグ戦時敵国人抑留所日記』第一巻 ２５０)