Category Archives: Eien narabō uta’awase

Eien narabō uta’awase 25

Round Four

Left

水のおももみなふるゆきにうづもれてたちゐやなげくいけのにほどり

mizu no omo mo
mina furu yuki ni
uzumorete
tachi’i ya nageku
ike no niodori
The surface of the water
Entirely by the falling snow
Is buried—
Do they sorrow for their diving,
The grebes around the pond?

Cell of the Fragrant Elephant
49

Right (Win)

みよしのに雪ふりぬれば我がやどのならのかれ葉はいとどさびしも

miyoshino ni
yuki furinureba
wa ga yado no
nara no kareba wa
itodo sabishi mo
In fair Yoshino
Snow has fallen, so
At my house
The withered oak leaves are
All the more alone…

Cell of the Everlasting Truth
50

The poem of the Left’s ‘surface of the water entirely buried by snow’ is something that I have never heard before. ‘Grieving grebes’, too, are something I have yet to encounter. Really, what sort of poem is this? As for the poem of the Right, while ‘all the more alone’ and what precedes it fails to sound elegant, at the current time I feel it’s a little bit superior.

It’s extremely difficult to conceive of the surface of a body of what which hasn’t yet frozen being buried in snow. If snow fell extremely heavily, then, surely, the water would overflow, then freeze, and then get buried, wouldn’t it? I might be going a little too far here, though. As for the Right’s poem, is ‘my house’ in Yoshino? Or is it on an estate elsewhere? If it’s on an estate, is the poet looking at the falling snow and imagining Yoshino? It’s vague. Then again, as the poem doesn’t say explicitly that the oaks are buried by the snow, is it only imagining this? How might something be which has not been seen for sure? The oaks here, too, would be like that, as snow is something which doesn’t distinguish where it falls…

Eien narabō uta’awase 24

Round Three

Left

おぼつかないづれいづちのみちならむしをりも見えずふれるしらゆき

obotsukana
izure izuchi no
michi naramu
shiori mo miezu
fureru shirayuki
How strange!
Which is which
Path, I wonder?
Even the laden branches go unseen
In the falling snow, so white.

Retired from the World
47

Right

雪ふかみとなりのさともうづもれてけぶりのみこそしるしなりけれ

yuki fukami
tonari no sato mo
uzumorete
keburi nomi koso
shirushi narikere
So deep the snow, that
The estate next door
Is buried;
Trails of smoke are the only
Sign it’s there!

Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer

48

The poem of the Left’s ‘even the laden branches go unseen’ and what follows is both poetic and a familiar usage. As for the Right’s poem, how can ‘the estate next door be buried’ unless it’s the only place that snow is falling and nowhere else? Thus, I feel that the snow falling to conceal the broken branches has more feeling to it.

The Left’s ‘which path’ gives me the impression that there are many of them. This sense of multiplicity is something I can imagine—which is a good thing—and, I think, see me using myself. ‘Laden branches’ are something which occur on peaks deep in the mountains. It might be a bit remiss of me, but I wonder whether I can imagine snow drifting so high on a mountain peak?

As for the Right’s poem, we use ‘next door’ when there’s a fence of some sort between one estate and another, don’t we? As such, saying that the smoke is the sign is rather vague. Even if there’s been a quite extraordinary snowfall, there would be something other to notice as well as the smoke, so this is an error, isn’t it. It would be acceptable to refer to smoke if the estate were further away.

Eien narabō uta’awase 23

Round Two

Left

ゆきふればしるしのすぎもはなさきてみわの山べもいかがたづねむ

yuki fureba
shirushi no sugi mo
hana sakite
miwa no yamabe mo
ikaga tazunemu
When the snow has fallen,
The symbolic cedars, too,
Bloom with blossom—
To Miwa’s mountainside
How might I make my way?

Lord Saburō
45

Right (Win)

しらゆきにふるの山みちうづもれてたどるばかりになりもゆくかな

shirayuki ni
furu no yamamichi
uzumorete
tadoru bakari ni
nari mo yuku kana
In snow, so white,
Furu’s ancient mountain paths
Are buried, so
Simply I must feel my way
As I go along!

Ushigimi
46

The Left’s poem is an entirely transparent adaptation of an earlier work. This poem is:

ふる雪に印の杉もうづもれていづこなるらむ三輪の山本

furu yuki ni
shirushi no sugi mo
uzumorete
izuko naruruamu
miwa no yamamoto
In the falling snow,
Even the symbolic cedars
Are buried
Where might be
Miwa mountain’s foot?[i]

The Right’s poem has nothing of interest about it, nor does it have any faults to indicate. Thus, there are insufficient grounds for judgement.

The Left’s poem follows the conception of a poem which appeared in the Kaya Palace Poetry Match.[ii] Although this is an earlier work, truly, it’s not that good, and so this poem doesn’t seem that superlative. Why couldn’t one visit if blossom has simply bloomed? The former poem says it would be difficult to get there because it’s buried in snow. The Right’s poem isn’t that good, but it seems better than the Left, so it should win.


[i] The source of this poem is unclear, however,

[ii] Snow. ふるゆきにすぎのあをばもうづもれてしるしも見えずみわのやまもと furu yuki ni / sugi no aoba mo / uzumorete / shirushi mo miezu / miwa no yamamoto ‘In the falling snow / The green cedar needles / Are buried, so / The symbol goes unseen, / Of Miwa mountain’s foot.’ Lady Settsu (Kaya no in shichiban uta’awase 55). This poetry match, Kaya no in shichiban uta’awase 高陽院七番歌合 (‘Seven Round Poetry Match held at the Kaya Palace’), was sponsored by Fujiwara no Morozane 藤原師実 (1042-1101) and held on the 19th day of the Eighth Month, Kahō 1 [1.10.1094]. The judge, Minamoto no Tsunenobu 源経信 (1016-1097), approved of this poem, saying it was ‘extremely charming’. It was later included in Kin’yōshū (IV: 285), with the headnote, ‘Composed on the conception of snow at the Poetry Match held at the Residence of the Former Uji Chancellor’.

Eien narabō uta’awase 22

Snow

Round One

Left (Win)

たまのきにははそのもりもなりにけりふるしらゆきのきえぬかぎりは

tama no ki ni
hahaso no mori mo
narinikeri
furu shirayuki no
kienu kagiri wa
Into trees of gems has
The oak forest
Turned
While the falling snow
Does not fade away…

Lord Dainagon
43[i]

Right

ゆきふればあをばの山も見がくれてときはのきをやけさはをるらむ

yuki fureba
aoba no yama mo
migakurete
tokiwa no ki o ya
kesa wa oruramu
Snow has fallen, so
The verdant mountain
Vanishes from sight—
Might the evergreens
Be broken the morning?

Lord Chūnagon
44[ii]

The poem of the Left is entirely lacking in any interest. Isn’t this a sage’s jewelled tree? It really leaves me grief-stricken. The poem of the Right contains two faults in a single work. First, this is not the right time of year to be referring to a ‘verdant mountain’. Second, ‘vanishes from sight’ refers to disappearing in water. In the Collection of a Myriad Leaves ‘vanishing from sight’ is written as ‘hidden in the water’. Thus we have lines such as, ‘swarming frogs hiding in the weeds beneath the waves’. There are no prior poems mentioning ‘mountains vanishing from sight’ in either ancient or modern times.

On the matter of the ‘tree of gems’, I heard a long time ago that this might have appeared in an important source, but as this is something I know little about, even if this is a fault, it’s difficult for me to say anything about it. Well, in any case, it doesn’t sound bad. Would someone who knows all about this compose poorly? The Right’s poem lacks elegance, but it doesn’t sound like it has any other faults. It’s inferior to the Left only in ornamentation.


[i] Some sources identify Mototoshi as the composer of this poem.

[ii] This poem is included in Toshiyori’s personal collection, Sanboku kikashū (670), with the headnote, ‘Composed in place of someone for a poetry match in Nara’,

Eien narabō uta’awase 21

Round Seven

Left

秋の夜はながゐのうらにとまりしてのどかにてらすありあけの月

aki no yo wa
nagai no ura ni
tomarishite
nodoka ni terasu
ariake no tsuki
Autumn nights
Are long at Nagai Bay
Lodging, and
Gently shining
The dawntime moon.

Lady Kazusa
41

Right (Win)

秋の夜のくもふきはらふあらしこそ月みるひとのこころなりけれ

aki no yo no
kumo fuki’harau
arashi koso
tsuki miru hito no
kokoro narikere
On an autumn night
The clouds a’blowing away,
The storm wind, truly,
As someone gazing upon the moon
Has the selfsame heart!

Lady Shikibu
42

The poem of the Left certainly imagines the scene just as it is. With that being said, however, the dawntime moon is not present long enough. The Right’s poem simply sounds like one composed by Atsutaka for the ‘Poetry Match held at the Residence of the Former Captain of the Outer Palace Guards, Left Division’.[i] Thus, it’s impossible for me to determine a winner or loser.

It’s a poem which we see in the Poetry Match at Lord Moroyori’s Residence.

冬のよの雲ふきはらふ木枯や月見る人の心なるらむ

fuyu no yo no
kumo fuki’harau
kogarashi ya
tsuki miru hito no
kokoro naruramu
On a winter’s night
The clouds a’blowing away,
The bitter wind, indeed,
As someone gazing upon the moon
The same heart seems to have![ii]

In the poem of the Left, is it the moon or the poet who is lodging at Nagai Bay? If it’s the moon, then ‘lodging’ is erroneous; if it’s the poet, then ‘gently shining’ doesn’t work. In addition to this vagueness, I do also question whether ‘dawntime’ sounds appropriate. As for the Right’s poem, ‘as someone gazing at the moon / Has the selfsame heart!’ is an elegant conception, and the diction is also smooth. It reminds me of an earlier work by someone else. Thus, it wins.


[i] This match has a several different titles, Mototoshi refers to here as both: Zen sa-hyōe no kami no ie no uta’awase 前左兵衛督家歌合 and also Moriyori-kyō no ie uta’awase 師頼卿家歌合, but it is also known as the ‘Poetry Match held by the Late Master of the of the Crown Prince’s Household’ (Ko-tōgū daibu ie uta’awase 故東宮大夫家歌合) and the ‘Poetry held by Moroyori, Captain of the Outer Palace Guards, Right Division’ (U-hyōe no kami moroyori uta’awase 右兵衛督師頼歌合): the text of this match is no longer extant, but it is known to have taken place in the winter Tennin 天仁 2 (1109). Fujiwara no Kiyosuke notes that it was judged by Toshiyori, but Mototoshi disagreed with his assessments and submitted at set of judgements of his own in appeal (Fujioka 1995, 212).

[ii] This poem is included in Shoku shikashū (VI: 293), attributed to Moroyori, with the headnote, ‘Composed on the moon in winter’.

Eien narabō uta’awase 20

Round Six

Left

あきの夜のありあけのつきはくまもなしあさくらやまもなのみこそあらめ

aki no yo no
ariake no tsuki wa
kuma mo nashi
asakurayama mo
na nomi koso arame
At an autumn night’s
Dawn, the moon
Has not a cloud before it;
The Mount of Morning Dark
May be so in name alone!

Cell of Fragrant Cloud
39

Right (Win)

秋の月あかしのうらはなびきもにすむわれからのかずも見つべし

aki no tsuki
akashi no ura wa
nabikimo ni
sumu warekara no
kazu mo mitsubeshi
The autumn moon is
Bright above Akashi Bay;
Among the trailing seaweed
Dwell tiny shrimp,
Their number now clear to my eyes.

Cell of Compassionate Light
40

The poem of the Left is an entirely tedious composition. It simply states that a cloudless autumn moon does not fit with the place name, Mount Asakura. The moon at ‘dawn’ is the same as the moon at ‘dawntime’, while Mount Asakura is used when dawn has completely finished. As for the poem of the Right, while the moon is described as bright, it doesn’t seem right to then make it a poem about trailing seaweed—this does not seem charming at all. This round, too, there’s not much more I can say than that.

As I have already mentioned, ‘moon at dawn’ in the poem of the Left is an expression which it is impossible to say is praiseworthy. Even more so, really, the concluding ‘may be so in name alone’ just says ‘is so in name alone’, doesn’t it? It’s contrary to reason to say that it’s fluent and thus, and I say this reluctantly, it’s difficult to understand. As for the Right’s poem, I don’t understand this either: it ought to be ‘their numbers, too, I have been able to see’—saying ‘their number now clear to my eyes’ implies that you haven’t previously been able to see them up to that point, and it’s vague about when you have. Even so, it’s getting light, so the light of the moon at dawn seems superior.

Eien narabō uta’awase 19

Round Five

Left

あきのよのふけゆくかぜにくもはれてはなだのそらにすめるつきかげ

aki no yo no
fukeyuku kaze ni
kumo harete
hanada no sora ni
sumeru tsukikage
As the autumn night
Wears on, the wind
Clears away the cloud, and
From the pale indigo sky
Comes clear moonlight.

Controller’s Graduate
37

Right

ふるさとのときぞともなきさびしさもなぐさむばかりすめる月かな

furusato no
toki zo tomonaki
sabishisa mo
nagusamu bakari
sumeru tsuki kana
In the ancient capital
Timeless is
The lonely sadness
Consoled only
By the clear, bright moon!

Kerin’in Graduate
38

The Left’s poem is a transparent copy of an older work. That poem is:

天の原四方のむら雲吹きはらひみどりの空にすめる月影

ama no hara
yomo no muragumo
fukiharai
midori no sora ni
sumeru tsukikage
Across the plain of Heaven
All the crowding clouds
Are blown away, and
From the sky so green
Comes clear moonlight.[i]

I don’t feel this is in any way different. As for the Right’s poem, while it is not the case that it is entirely without conception, it lacks any exemplary elements, so I don’t see how I can possibly recommend either of these.

The Left’s poem isn’t bad, but it should be revised to use ‘sky so green’, because using ‘pale indigo sky’ is vague. To decide in favour of it I would need there to be a prior poem as precedent. The Right’s poem is not particularly exemplary, but it does sound as if there are times like that. In the absence of a precedent for the Left, the poem of the Right wins.


[i] The source of this poem is unknown.

Eien narabō uta’awase 18

Round Four

Left

まくずはふ山ぢもはれてあきのよはこゆるたびびとやすき月かな

makuzu hau
yamaji mo harete
aki no yo wa
koyuru tabibito
yasuki tsuki kana
Kudzu vines crawl
Along the mountain paths, so clear
On an autumn night for
A traveller a’crossing
Lit by a clement moon!

Cell of the Fragrant Elephant
35

Right

くまもなきつきのひかりをながめてはひたけてぞしるよはあけにけり

kuma mo naki
tsuki no hikari o
nagamete wa
hi takete zo shiru
yo wa akenikeri
No cloud mars
The moon’s light,
Filling my gaze, as
A sun up high, telling me,
Night leads to bright dawn.

Cell of the Everlasting Truth
36

The poem of the Left has nothing to present in all of its syllables. The poem of the Right resembles a composition by someone drunk out of his mind. As a result, it’s impossible to decide between them.

In the poem of the Left, does ‘clement moonlight’ mean that the moon’s light enables one to traverse a mountain path, which normally one would be unable to make one’s way along because one would expect it to be dark? The diction here is insufficient. As it says in the preface to the Ancient and Modern Collection of Narihira’s poems, ‘excessive conception but lacking in diction, like withered flowers lacking colours, but with a lingering fragrance’. This is a poem in that style, isn’t it. As for the poem of the Right, this, too, has ‘night leads to bright dawn’—the diction here is stilted and the conception lacks elegance. I have to say these poems are of about the same standard.

Eien narabō uta’awase 17

Round Three

Left (Win)

いかにしてあきはひかりのまさるらんおなじみかさの山のはの月

ika ni shite
aki wa hikari no
masaruran
onaji mikasa no
yama no ha no tsuki
Why is it that
In autumn your light
Should be best of all?
Though always upon Mikasa
Mountain’s edge you rest, O moon…

Retired from the world
33

Right

秋のよはくもるといへどこと月のさやけきよりもさやけかりけり

aki no yo wa
kumoru to iedomo
koto tsuki no
sayakeki yori mo
sayakarikeri
On an autumn night
Cloudy it may be, yet
Compared to another moon’s
Brightness, ‘tis still
More bright.

Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
34

Both the configuration and diction of the Left’s poem seem comprehensible. The poem of the Right’s use of ‘moon’ is dubious and blameworthy. Thus, the Left wins.

The poem of the Left doesn’t sound bad. I feel it has a well-trodden ending for a poem and it reminds me of the old line ‘what is this light’[1]—it’s extremely charming. In the Right’s poem, I wonder if ‘another moon’ might be referring to the calendar month, but listening to it, it really does sound as if there are two moons in the sky! Furthermore, the poem lacks fluency and is further case of a hasty retreat from the topic, isn’t it.  It’s an excess of technique to say that the autumn moon is not inferior to any other, even if it’s covered with cloud.


[1] Composed for the Palace Poetry Match held on the 10th day of the Eighth Month, Kanna 1. いつもみる月ぞとおもへどあきのよはいかなるかげをそふるなるらん itsumo miru / tsuki zo to omoedo / aki no yo wa / ika naru kage o / sourunaruran ‘Always, do I see / The moon, I thought, yet / On an autumn night / What is this light / That trails over all?’ Fujiwara no Nagayoshi (GSIS IV: 256)

Eien narabō uta’awase 16

Round Two

Left (Win)

秋のよの月のひかりはかはらねどたびのそらこそあはれなりけれ

aki no yo no
tsuki no hikari wa
kawaranedo
tabi no sora koso
aware narikeri
On an autumn night
The moon’s light
Is unchanged, yet
The sky above me on my travels
Is so very sad, indeed.

Lord Saburō
31

Right

あきの夜はたのむる人もなきやどもありあけの月はなほぞまちいづる

aki no yo wa
tanomuru hito mo
naki yado mo
ariake no tsuki wa
nao zo machi’izuru
On an autumn night
With no man even expected
At my house,
It is the dawntime moon’s
Appearance that, indeed, I have awaited.

Ushigimi

32

The poem of the Left seems extremely well-trodden. It resembles a something sung as a popular song. As for the poem of the Right, ‘not…at my house’ is extraordinarily stilted, yet the poems are of the same quality, so I would say these tie.

The poem of the Left’s final ‘Is so very sad, indeed’ sounds pitiful and truly unskilled. The poem of the Right overemphasises ‘even’, and also appears to say that the dawntime moon is an element conveying a moving desolation. I wonder if this is appropriate for the topic of the ‘the moon’ in a poetry match? There needs to be a prior poem as precedent. It does say that the moon’s emergence after having waited for it is something precious, but the poem refers to the moon in the latter part of the month, after the twentieth day, doesn’t it? This would seem to be moving, for sure, but it’s something which doesn’t shed much light, so I would say that the Left wins.