Tag Archives: autumn wind

Love VI: 13

Left.
ひとり寢の憂き身になるゝ秋風をつれなき人の心ともがな

hitorine no
ukimi ni naruru
akikaze o
tsurenaki hito no
kokoro tomo gana
To sleeping alone
In desolation am I accustomed;
O, that the autumn wind were
My cruel love’s
Heart…

Lord Suetsune.
925

Right (Win).
夕まぐれ吹くる秋の初風は戀せぬ人も身にやしむらん

yūmagure
fukikuru aki no
hatsukaze wa
koisenu hito mo
mi ni ya shimuran
In the evening’s dusk
Comes blowing autumn’s
First breeze;
Will one who loves not
Be pierced as am I?

Lord Tsune’ie.
926

Both Left and Right together state: we have nothing we feel we should say.

In judgement: the final section of the Left’s poem is clichéd. I also wonder about the sound of ‘in desolation am I’ (ukimi). The Right’s poem has nothing particularly remarkable about it, but it should win

Horikawa hyakushu 1412

足柄の山の紅葉葉散るなへに清見が関は秋風そぞ吹く

ashigara no
yama no momijiba
chiru nae ni
kiyomi ga seki wa
akikaze zo fuku
At Ashigara,
The mountain is all scarlet leaves:
Just when they fall, at
The barrier of Kiyomi
Blows the autumn wind.

Minamoto no Moroyori (1068-1139)
源師頼

Autumn III: 6

Left (Win).

宇津の山越えし昔の跡古りて蔦の枯れ葉に秋風ぞ吹く

utsu no yama
koeshi mukashi no
ato furite
tsuta no kareba ni
akikaze zo fuku
Utsu Mountain,
Crossed in times of old by
Ruins, ageing; on
The withered ivy leaves
The winds of autumn are a’blowing…

A Servant Girl.

431

Right.

淺茅たつ庭の色だにあるものを軒端の蔦はうち時雨つゝ

asaji tatsu
niwa no iro dani
aru mono o
nokiba no tsuta wa
uchishiguretsutsu
The cogon-grass grows
In my garden, but the only hint of colour
Is in
The ivy by my eaves,
Wet with constant showers…

Jakuren.

432

As the previous round.

Shunzei’s judgement: Both Left and Right seem superb in form and diction [sugata kotoba wa yoroshiku miehaberu], but the Right’s ‘cogon-grass grows’ (asaji tatsu) is pretentious [yauyaushiku], and I wonder what to make [ikaga to oboehaberu] of the final ‘wet with constant showers’ (uchishiguretsutsu), but the conception [kokoro] of the Left’s ‘Utsu Mountain’, with its ‘ancient ruins’ brought back to memory by ‘on the withered ivy leaves the winds of autumn a’blowing’, is particularly tasteful [en]. Thus, the Left certainly wins.

Autumn I: 20

Left (Win).

小萱原吹來る秋の夕風に心亂れと鶉鳴くなり

ogayawara
fukikuru aki no
yūkaze ni
kokoro midare to
uzura naku nari
Across the sedge fields
Come blowing the autumn
Evening winds;
My heart’s in disarray,
The quails are crying…

Lord Kanemune.

339

Right.

秋風を厭ひやすらん夕間暮淺茅が下に鶉鳴く也

aki kaze o
itoi ya suran
yūmagure
asaji ga shita ni
uzura naku nari
The autumn wind:
Do they dislike it, I wonder?
In the dark of evening
From beneath the sparse stalks of cogon grass
The quails are crying…

Lord Tsune’ie.

340

The Right feel that, ‘Just having “my heart’s in disarray” (kokoro midare to) is lacking something.” The Left have no particular criticisms of the Right’s poem.

Shunzei responds, ‘The gentlemen of the Right have remarked upon the lack in the Left’s poem, wondering, no doubt, if this should be “feeling my heart’s in disarray” (kokoro midare tote). If one were to say that this is definitely the way the poem should have been composed, it would be something of a loss to the Way of Poetry, I feel. If we permit poets to say they are “moved” (aware nari), why not that their “heart’s in disarray”? The Right’s poem has a superlative final section, but one cannot know whether quails dislike the autumn wind or not. In Springtime, the warblers frolic in the mists; in Autumn, the insects cry from beneath the dewdrops – but each only at their allotted time, and from this one can tell the season. The quails’ cries make one feel the chill of the autumn wind. If one composes that they hid themselves from dislike of it, it restricts the imagination about quails too much. The Left wins.’

Autumn I: 3

Left (Tie).

秋風の吹も強らぬ眞葛原夏の氣色に猶かへる哉

aki kaze no
fuki mo tsuyoranu
makuzuwara
natsu no keshiki ni
nao kaeru kana
The autumn wind
Blows with such little strength that
The field of arrowroot
To its summer scene
Has yet returned.

Lord Ari’ie.

305

Right (Tie).

秋來てもまだひとへなる衣手に厭はぬ程の風ぞ吹なる

aki kitemo
mada hitoenaru
koromode ni
itowanu hodo no
kaze zo fukunaru
Autumn has come, and yet
For my still single-layered
Sleeves
There is no respite in
The breath of wind

Ietaka.

306

The Right state, ‘The expression “little strength” (tsuyoranu) is particularly grating on the ear.’ The Left respond, ‘And what are we really to make of the expression, “no respite in the breath of wind” (itowanu hodo no kaze)? Even in “O, blow my cares away,/First breeze of Autumn!” (kokorosite Fuke aki no Fatukaze), one does not get a sense of dislike for the wind. Furthermore, the core sense of the poem seems inappropriately chilly for the topic.’

Shunzei’s judgement is that, ‘the criticisms of both teams have merit. The Left’s “little strength” is as stated. As for the spirit of the Right’s poem, does not “O, blow my cares away” (kokorosite Fuke) mean that the coolness brings no respite? While the spirit of “Lingering Heat” certainly contains the key sense that things have become slightly cooler, as I said in the last round. In any case, this round is a tie.’

Miscellaneous 88

Left (Tie).

都出でゝあさたつ山の手向より露置とめぬ秋風ぞ吹

miyako idete
asa tatsu yama no
tamuke yori
tsuyu okitomenu
akikaze zo fuku
Leaving the Capital,
Departing with the morn, mountain
Made offerings, are
Stripped of dewdrops, by
The gusting Autumn wind.

175

Right (Tie).

旅人の袖吹かへす秋風に夕日さびしき山の梯

tabibito no
sode fukikaesu
akikaze ni
yūhi ni sabishiki
yama no kakehashi
A traveller’s
Sleeves turned inside-out
By the autumn wind:
Desolate in the evening sunlight,
A span between the mountain crags…

176