Then, around the sixth month of Jisho 4 (1180), there was suddenly a move of the capital. It was wholly unexpected. As I have heard of the beginnings of this capital of Heian, more than four hundred years had passed since it was made the capital in the reign of Emperor Saga. Without special reason it could not be lightly changed, so it was only natural that people were uneasy and lamented together.
But it was no use talking, and beginning with the emperor, the ministers and nobles all moved, every one. Of those who served the court, who would remain alone in the old capital? Those who sought rank and relied on their lord's favor strove to move a day sooner; those left behind by the times, with no hope of advancement, stayed and lamented.
The dwellings that had vied eave to eave fell to ruin day by day. Houses were taken apart and floated down the Yodo River, and the land turned to fields before one's eyes. Everyone's heart changed: they valued only horses and saddles, and no one used ox carriages anymore. They wanted lands on the southwestern sea and did not care for estates in the northeast.
At that time, having an occasion, I went to the new capital in Settsu. Looking at the land, the sea was near on the south and mountains pressed close on the north; the land was narrow, not enough even to lay out the street grid. The sound of the waves was always loud, and the sea wind especially harsh. The palace was among the mountains, so that I wondered if the Log Palace of old had been like this; it was rather odd, yet had a certain elegance.
The houses taken apart day after day and brought down until the river grew narrow: where would they be built? There was still much empty land and few houses built. The old capital was already in ruins, and the new one not yet finished. Everyone felt as unsettled as drifting clouds. In the end, that winter, the court returned to Heian-kyo, but what became of all the houses taken apart? None were rebuilt as they had been.