Tag Archives: dwelling

Eien narabō uta’awase 29

Felicitations

Round One

Left

みどりなるまつかげひたすいけ水にちよのすみかとみゆるやどかな

midori naru
matsukage hitasu
ikemizu ni
chiyo no sumika to
miyuru yado kana
Evergreen
The pine tree’s shapes sink
Into the pond waters—
A residence for a thousand ages
Does that dwelling seem!

Lord Dainagon
57

Right (Win)

ちとせともいろにはいでていはし水ながれむほどは君がよなれば

chitose to mo
iro ni wa idete
iwashimizu
nagaremu hodo wa
kimi ga yo nareba
For a thousand years or more
Does its hue emerge—
Spring waters from the rocks
Might flow as long as
My Lord’s reign will be, so…

Lord Chūnagon
58

What on earth might be the colour of the Left poem’s ‘pine tree’s shapes sink’ and the Right poem’s ‘thousand years’ hue’? When one talks about ‘hue’ that means ‘scarlet’ and, in addition, it’s used of blossoms or autumn leaves. I have yet to see wisteria colouring the water in numerous private collections. The two poems are about the same, but the Right is marred by a series of faults.

The Left’s ‘shapes sink’ is extremely vague. ‘Sink’ means to submerge an object in water. One could certainly compose about a pine tree’s branches sinking, but how can we accept ‘shapes sink’ to mean an object’s reflection from beneath the water in the absence of a poem as precedent? The end is extremely, charming, though.

The poem of the Right doesn’t have anything special about it. It’s a pedestrian affair which doesn’t seem to show much evidence of thought. How are we to distinguish between a poem which is hackneyed but lacking any faults and one which is vague?

Kinkai wakashū 216

Composed when I had gone hawking to a place called Togami Plain, and saw orchids blooming before a ruined hut.

秋風になににほふらん藤ばかまぬしはふりにしやどとしらずや

akikaze ni
nani niouran
fujibakama
nushi wa furinishi
yado to shirazu ya
In the autumn breeze,
Why do they shine so bright?
Do the purple petals, that
The master of this ancient
Dwelling is no more, not know?

Daikōtaigōgū no suke taira no tsunemori-ason ke uta’awase 11

Round Eleven

Left (Win)

われこそは野べをば宿にうつしつれたがさそひこし虫の音ぞこは

ware koso wa
nobe oba yado ni
utsushitsure
ta ga sasoikoshi
mushi no nezoko wa
‘Twas I, indeed, who
The meadow to my dwelling
Shifted, but
Who is it has been invited here
By the insects’ songs?

Shun’e Tayū no kimi
21

Right

秋の野の千くさの花の色色を心ひとつにそめてこそみれ

aki no no no
chikusa no hana no
iroiro o
kokoro hitotsu ni
somete koso mire
The autumn meadows
Thousand grasses’ blooms
Have hues a’plenty, but
My heart, but one,
Has been dyed, you see!

Mikawa, Court Lady to His Excellency
22

The Left sounds as if the poet is being comforted by the insects which is at some variance from the essential meaning of the topic, and yet when I listen to it, it has an abundance of charm. The Right doesn’t differ, does it, from Kanemasa’s poem in the Poetry Match held at the Residence of the Minister of the Centre in Gen’ei 2 [1119]:

秋くれば千くさに匂ふ花の色の心ひとつにいかでしむらん

aki kureba
chikusa ni niou
hana no iro no
kokoro hitotsu ni
ikade shimuran
When the autumn comes
The thousand grasses glow
With flowers’ hues, but
Why, then, does my heart with but one
Seem to be stained?

Thus, the Left wins.

Daikōtaigōgū daijin kiyosuke-ason ke uta’awase 19

Round Nineteen

Left (Win)

うちはらふ枕のちりもかくれなくあれたる宿をてらす月影

uchiharau
makura no chiri mo
kakurenaku
aretaru yado o
terasu tsukikage
Needing to be swept away,
The dust upon my pillow
Cannot be concealed
In my dilapidated dwelling, when
The moonlight shines within…

Taifu
37

Right

秋の夜の月みる袖におく露やひるにかはれるしるしなるらん

aki no yo no
tsuki miru sode ni
oku tsuyu ya
hiru ni kawareru
shirushi naruran
On an autumn night
Upon my sleeves, when gazing at the moon,
Fall dewdrops—
That all is changed from daytime
Might they be a sign?

Yorisuke
38

In both the moon is bright, and I feel they reflect the essential meaning of the topic, but as its diction is currently slightly more familiar, I make the Left the winner. It would be possible to call this a tie, too, though.

Daikōtaigōgū daijin kiyosuke-ason ke uta’awase 04

Round Four

Left (Win)

春の夜はいこそねられねねやちかき梅のにほひにおどろかれつつ

haru no yo wa
i koso nerarene
neya chikaki
ume no nioi ni
odorokaretsutsu
On a night in springtime
I cannot sleep at all, for
Close by my bedchamber
The scent of plum
Ever wakes me from my slumber…

Norimori
7

Right

さ夜ふかみ旅ねの床にかをらずは梅さく宿といかでしらまし

sayo fukami
tabine no toko ni
ka orazu wa
ume saku yado to
ikade shiramashi
Deep within brief night
In a traveller’s bed
No scent reaches me, yet
That plum blooms at this dwelling—
How is it I might know?

Kenshō
8

The Left is particularly evocative. The Right is from an old poetry match.

MYS X: 2182

比日之 暁露丹 吾屋前之 芽子乃下葉者 色付尓家里

このころのあかときつゆにわがやどのはぎのしたばはいろづきにけり

kono koro no
akatoki tuyu ni
wa ga yado no
pagi no sitaba pa
irodukinikeri
Around thus time near
Dawn, the dewfall on
My dwelling’s
Bush clover underleaves
Has changed their hue!

Anonymous

A kuzushiji version of the poem's text
Created with Soan.