Anchin the monk, beside the marshy pool, 
Met Kiyohime, the lady merciless.
She smiled and touched his rosary.
At her caress
His vows were all unsaid, and she, his heart did rule. 
Vainly he prayed in shaded cloister hall,
To be delivered from her hateful spell;
With poppies crowned she entered in his moonlit cell. 
He fled into the night, yet she pursued her thrall. 
Vainly he won Dōjōji’s temples shrine,
Beneath its bell of bronze a refuge sought;
For Kiyohime the bell-rope cut.
The monk was caught!
While o’er the bell she crept like some lithe, clinging vine. 
Her green robe gli0’ring into golden scales,
She turned a fearsome dragon, breathing fire;
The bronze bell red-hot glowed, lashed by her tail in ire, 
Ere died away poor Anchin’s piteous cries and wails.