Left
秋のよのあまてる月の光にはおく白露を玉とこそ見れ
| aki no yo no ama teru tsuki no hikari ni wa oku shiratsuyu o tama to koso mire | On an autumn night The heaven-shining moon’s Light upon The fallen silver dewdrops Truly, makes them seem as jewels. |
98[1]
Right
あきののにおける露をばひとりぬる我が涙とも思ひしれかし
| aki no no ni okeru tsuyu oba hitori nuru wa ga namida to mo omoishire kashi | Upon the autumn fields Drop dewdrops; Sleeping alone, My tears— Think on them, why don’t you! |
99
[1] Shinchokusenshū V: 281/Shinsen man’yōshū 95
ひぐらしのなくあき山をこえくればことぞともなくものぞかなしき[1]
| higurashi no naku aki yama o koekureba koto zo tomonaku mono zo kanashiki | The sundown cicadas Sing in the autumn mountains Passing by, Everything is somehow All the more sad… |
17
あきののとなりぞしにける草むらの見るひごとにもまさるつゆかな
| aki no no to nari zo shinikeru kusamura no miru hi goto ni mo masaru tsuyu kana | The autumn fields Have all turned to Tangled clumps of grass— Every day I sight them, How finer is the dewfall! |
18
[1] This poem was included in two later anthologies: Fubokuwakashu (6015) and Shūfū wakashū 秋風和歌集 (307).
Left (Win).
とけて寢ぬ夢路も霜に結ぼゝれ先知る物は片敷きの袖
| tokete nenu yumeji mo shimo ni musubōre mazu shiru mono wa katashiki no sode |
Falling into sleep Even my dreams are with frost Filled, and First to know it are My lonely sleeves… |
461
Right.
秋の野の千草の色も枯れあへぬに露置きこむる夜半の初霜
| aki no no no chigusa no iro mo kare’aenu ni tsuyu okikomuru yowa no hatsujimo |
The autumn fields Myriad hues Cannot be completely covered When drenched with dew, First frost at midnight. |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
462
The Right state that the Left’s poem is ‘difficult to understand completely’ [tashikani kokoroegatashi]. The Left find no fault with the Right’s poem.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘even my dreams are with frost’ (yumeji mo shimo ni) sounds pleasant [yoroshiku kikoehaberu]. The Right’s ‘drenched with dew’ (tsuyu okikomuru) is elegant in configuration [sugata wa yū ni kikoehaberu], but it is unclear: is it dew turned to frost being drenched by dew? The Left must win.
Left (Win).
山遠き門田の末は霧晴て穂波に沈む有明の月
| yama tōki kadota no sue wa kiri harete honami ni shizumu ariake no tsuki |
By the distant mountains, At the farthest reach of fields before my gates, The mists are clearing, and Sinking amongst the waves of rice-ears is The dawntime moon… |
395
Right.
夕月夜ほのめく影も哀なり稲葉の風は袖に通ひて
| yūzukuyo honomeku kage mo awarenari inaba no kaze wa sode ni kayoite |
The autumn evening moon’s Faint light is Moving, indeed; The wind upon the rice-stalks Passing o’er my sleeves… |
396
The Right simply say that the Left’s poem is ‘good’. The Left have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘dawntime moon’ (ariake no tsuki) and the Right’s ‘early evening moon’ are both deeply moving; the Left, continuing with ‘at the farthest reach of fields before my gates, the mists are clearing’ (kadota no sue wa kiri harete) is particularly fine, I feel. ‘Sinking amongst the waves of rice-ears’ (honami ni shizumu) is certainly technically proficient, and yet lacks a certain profundity. And yet, the initial ‘By the distant mountains’ (yama tōki) show a true depth. It should win.
Left.
幾夜とも宿は答へず門田吹稲葉の風の秋の音づれ
| ikuyo tomo yado wa kotaezu kadotafuku inaba no kaze no aki no otozure |
How many nights it’s been? My home gives no reply; Blowing ‘cross the field before my gates, The wind among the rice stalks Brings autumn calling… |
393
Right (Win).
わきてなど庵もる袖のしほるらん稲葉にかぎる秋の風かは
| wakite nado io moru sode no shioruran inaba ni kagiru aki no kaze ka wa |
Apart, and yet Sleeves within the watchman’s hut Are drenched; Among none other than the rice-stalks Is the autumn wind? |
394
The Right state that the Left’s ‘Blowing ‘cross the field before my gates’ (kadota fuku) is grating on the ear. In addition, ‘should one really expect an answer from a house?’ The Left simply say that they find the Right’s poem ‘good’.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Gentlemen of the Right have correctly identified two faults with the Left’s poem. The Right’s poem, on the other hand, in both diction and sentiment, is extremely charming, and the final section, in particular is most profound in form. I must make it the winner.
Left (Tie).
秋田守る賤が庵に宿からんさても此世は過ぬべき身ぞ
| akita moru shizu ga iori ni yado karan satemo kono yo wa suginubeki mi zo |
The autumn paddies warding, A peasant’s hut – there Will I find lodging; And thus, within this world Will I be able to spend my time! |
391
Right (Tie).
深からぬ山田の庵も秋はなを心のはては見つべかりけり
| fukakaranu yamada no io mo aki wa nao kokoro no hate wa mitsubekarikeri |
Not deep at all within The mountain paddies is this hut, yet Autumn, still, My heart, to the brim, Does fill… |
392
The Right complain that the Left’s poem ‘appears to be expressing somewhat outré sentiments’. The Left state on the other hand that the Right’s poem is ‘not bad’.
Shunzei’s judgement: the type of emotional import expressed in the Left’s poem is superlative. In The Tales of Ise, after all, there is the section on ‘gathering fallen ears of rice’ – most charming! To say that this is outré suggests a deficiency of understanding. The Right’s poem, too, conveys an emotional message. I must wonder about the use of ‘Not deep at all within’ (fukakaranu), but still, the round should tie.
Left (Win).
遠近の庵に引板打つ音聞けばかたみに守るや秋の小山田
| ochikochi no io ni hita utsu oto kikeba katami ni moru ya aki no oyamada |
Both near and far From huts the bird clappers sound; Hearing it, I wonder do they ward together The little mountain paddies at autumn time… |
389
Right.
風吹けば山田の庵に音信て稲葉ぞ人を守り明しける
| kaze fukeba yamada no io ni otozurete inaba zo hito wo moriakashikeru |
When the wind does blow To the mountain paddy huts Comes the sound Of rustling rice fronds; the folk within Warding, wakeful, ‘til daybreak. |
390
The Right find no fault with the Left’s poem this round. The Left wonder about the suitability of the phrase ‘folk within warding’ (hito wo moru), to which the Right respond that the expression carries the sense of wakefulness.
Shunzei’s judgement: the Left has the sound of bird clappers jointly guarding the fields, the Right, the sound of rice stirred by the autumn wind rousing folk in their huts – both poems display a particular skill in terms of form, but perhaps at the expense of feeling. Furthermore, I am unable to apprehend the Right’s ‘rice fronds; the folk within warding’. The Left wins, by a small margin.
Left.
あはれかな遠の山田にさ夜更けてはのかに引板の音斗する
| aware kana ochi no yamada ni sayo fukete honoka ni hita no oto bakari suru |
O, how sad! From the distant mountain fields As the night draws in Comes faintly the bird-clapper’s Sound, and nothing more… |
387
Right (Win).
いづくより秋のあはれを誘ひ來て稲葉に風の吹續くらん
| izuku yori aki no aware o sasoikite inaba ni kaze no fukutsuzukuran |
Where is it from that, Autumn sadness Is invited in? Over the rice-stems the wind Blows on and on… |
The Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
388
The Right state that they are left wondering why, by the first line of the Left’s poem. The Left have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left faintly hears the sound of a bird clapper from distant mountain fields. The Right’s poem is a from a dwelling among the fields. Moreover, ‘blows on and on’ (fukitsuzuku) is forceful, indeed. It must win.