To the fast ebbing tide and the setting sun
Westward my eager eyes are drawn.
Yet another eventful day is done
And I pray that the next will arrive, come dawn.

A far distant ridge of coal black clouds
White-heat tipped by the sun's last rays:
The low hills enveloped in misty shrouds
Glowing green, gold and pink through the pastel haze;

A three-quarter moon in its waxing motion,
Cold ghostly white against Prussian blue,
Reflects in each crest of the shimmering ocean
As the mist falls in gemstones of evening dew.

The taste of haiku
is strong, bitter tea at dawn
one cup shared by many.

Those are the steps up to the temple on Haguroyama in Yamagata Prefecture, if I'm not mistaken. (Been up those steps as a fairly young man and a fairly middle-aged one.) Check out chapter 36 of your copy of Oku No Hosomichi for details.