The presentation of multiple meanings inherent in a single word allows the poet a fuller range of artistic expression with an economical syllable-count.
Spelling this out in translation is the only way to express the pun to an English reader, but doing so destroys the subtlety that makes the original so poignant [1] Akenu tote kaeru michi ni wa kokitarete ame mo namida mo furisohochitsutsu Dawn has come— on the path home from love I am drenched: rainfall swelling my falling tears Although the mix-up of tears and rain is a bit trite in Japanese poetry, Toshiyuki creates a new beauty from old fragments through the unusual verb "kokitarete" (drenched) and the kakekotoba on "furisohochi" (meaning both "to fall" and "to soak through").
The kakekotoba is just one way through which poets are able to make unique and beautiful works of art despite working with a rather limited set of acceptable forms, styles, and references [2] Shukke no soba ni netaru nyoubou Henjou ni kakusu Komachi ga utamakura Beside the monk lies a lady Hidden from Henjou is Komachi's poem-pillow.
An utamakura is a place-name that is described with set words and associated constantly with the same scenery, season, time of day, etc...; poets often kept notes of their favorite tropes of this sort.
Two of the Six Poetic Immortals of the Kokin Wakashū era were the Priest Henjou and Ono no Komachi, who were reputed to be romantically involved despite their competition.
This example is highly complex in that it would require five phrases to be rendered twice each; e.g. "go Forrest" and "go for us" etc., and the final line, which reveals the play on words, "what's one more quote for us?"