A traveler is on her way to meet someone, walking along the Nihon Embankment toward the Yoshiwara district. The mood is quiet and full of anticipation—until the road suddenly darkens. A flock of wild geese crosses the moon, and for a moment the whole scene dims and shifts.
The darkness is not scary; it feels more like a quick intake of breath. There is longing in the opening line, “Coming to you,” and the geese passing over the moon add a fleeting sense of wonder. The speaker seems paused, caught between her destination and a brief, unexpected interruption of beauty. The poem leaves a hushed, mysterious feeling—as if the night itself briefly changed, then let her continue on.