The Right state: the Left’s ‘right through to below’ (shita tōruʼ) sounds as if the poet is passing below the palace! The Left state: in this poem it is not at all clear why it is that ‘the rain knows how I feel full well’ (mi o shiru ame).
In judgement: the Left, by using ‘right through to below’, has forgotten that ‘raincoat’ (amagoromo) evokes the sense of a salt-hut and, because there is nothing in the poem to suggest a location by the sea, amagoromo appears to be the clothing of a nun, or something similar. As for the Right’s ‘the rain knows how I feel full well’, it is simply ‘for love’. This seems plain to me. The Right wins.
toki siranu
tani no mumoregi
kutiFatete
mukasi no Faru no
koFisisa ni
nani no ayame mo
wakazu nomi
kaFaranu tuki no
kage mitemo
sigure ni nururu
sode no ura ni
sio taremasaru
amagoromo aFare no kakete
toFu Fito mo
nami ni tadayoFu
turibune no
kogiFanarenisi
yo naredomo
kimi ni kokoro o
kakesi yori
sigeki uruwe mo
wasuregusa
wasuregaFo nite
sumi no e no
matu no titose no
Farubaru to
kozuwe Faruka ni
sakayubeki
tokiFa no kage o
tanomu ni mo
nagusa no hama no
nagusamite
Furu no yasiro no
sono kami ni
iro Fukakarede
wasurenisi
momidi no sita wa
nokoru ya to
oiso no mori ni
tadunuredo
ima Fa arasi ni
taguFitsutsu
simo karegare ni
otoroFete
kakiatumetaru
midukuki ni
asaki gokoro no
kakurenaku
nagarete no na o
osidori no
uki tamesi ni ya
naran to suran
In ignorance of the season
Trees buried in the valley
Do quite rot away;
Long ago, in springtime
How dear it was
Now
I cannot tell: just
Upon the unchanging moon’s
Light do I turn my gaze, yet
Drenched by the showers
Upon the beaches of my sleeves
The tides rise high;
In rain-gear
Filled with pity,
Folk to come calling
Like upon the breaking waves
The fishing boats
Have rowed far away
Into the common world, yet
Since, to you, my Lord, my feelings
Have I expressed:
All my many cares
Are forgotten ‘mongst the grasses,
Forgotten, I live;
At Sumi Bay
For a thousand years the pine trees’
Far
Distant treetops
Seem touched with glory
Everlasting
In which I may trust;
On Nagusa Beach
Did I find consolation
Long ago, at the shrine of Furu
That my
Colours lacked for brilliance
I had forgotten;
Beneath the scarlet autumn leaves
Does a trace yet linger?
Aged now, as the sacred grove of Oiso,
Yet you did ask me, but
Now, I have nothing,
All
Is seared by the frosts
And withered, but
I have gathered together
Brief daubings of my brush,
With no sense or skill –
I cannot conceal it –
And that this must be my name
O, I do regret it! A mandarin duck
Adrift in sorrow:
Is that to be my fate?
