In three short lines, the speaker is alone on open water, rowing toward a far-away sky. The sea is vast and the destination feels remote, so the image is one of smallness and effort. The final line turns outward action inward: the “white billows” are not just waves but “billows of pain.” Grief or suffering becomes the element he must cross. The repeated “I row” gives a steady, almost chanting rhythm, as if the rowing is both physical and emotional. There is no arrival, no rescue, no promise of calm. The mood is quiet, lonely, and resolute—someone keeping going through pain rather than describing it from a distance. The whiteness of the waves adds a cold, pale, almost unfeeling brightness, making the sorrow feel vast and exposed.
Hokku 57 — Summary
I row across the expanse of sea, And the far-away sky, — I row across the white billows of pain.