おもひわびしほたれぬればあまのすむ蘆の丸屋の煙とぞなる
| omoiwabi shio tarenureba ama no sumu ashi no maruya no kemuri to zo naru | Burning with the pain of love, Salt drips down, so Where fisherfolk dwell In huts of reeds—as that Smoke have I become! |
Morotoki
45
This is vague, isn’t it?
Composed on the conception of the evening of the year by the sea, at the residence of the Tsuchimikado Palace Minister.
ゆくとしをゝじまのあまのぬれ衣かさねて袖になみやかくらん
| yuku toshi o ojima no ama no nuregoromo kasnete sode ni nami ya kakuran | The parting year covers me with Regret, as at Ojima the fisherfolk’s Drenched robes are Laid atop each other, with sleeves Still washed by waves, it seems… |
Fujiwara no Ari’ie
Seafolk 泉郎
ひく島のあまのうけ舟波まよりかうてふさすとゆふしでをかく
| hikushima no ama no ukebune namima yori kau chō sasu to yūshide o kaku | At Hikushima The fisher-folks’ buoy-boats From between the breakers Point the way today, like A painting of a sacred garland. |
Toshiyori
Seafolk 泉郎
黒うしがたこぎいづるあまのとも舟は鱸つるにや波まわくらん
| kuro’ushi gata kogi’izuru ama no tomobune wa suzuki tsuru ni ya namima wakuran | From Kuro’ushi Inlet Row out the fisherfolk, All in boats together— I wonder, will they fish for seabass Forging between the breakers? |
Akinaka
Round Four: Showers
Left (Win – Mototoshi)
水鳥の青葉の山やいかならん梢をそむる今朝のしぐれに
| midutori no awoba no yama ya ikanaran kozuwe wo somuru kesa no sigure ni | Waterbird Aoba Mountain – What is to become of you? Your treetops dyed By this morning’s drizzle… |
Lord Akinaka
7
Right (Win – Toshinari)
かき曇り海人の小舟に吹く苫の下透るまで時雨しにけり
| kakikumori ama no wobune ni Fuku toma no sita toForu made siguresinikeri | Clouds claw in and, Upon the fisherfolk’s tiny boats Do blow; until from the thatch, Right through to beneath, Do the showers fall… |
Lord Michitsune
8
Toshinari states: to follow ‘waterbird Aoba Mountain’ (midutori no awoba no yama) with ‘treetops dyed’ (kozuwe wo somuru) is blatantly obvious; in the following poem, while referring to ‘fisherfolk’s tiny boats’ (ama no wobune) is stylistically unexpected, it is not a fault, so I feel it should win.
Mototoshi states: referring to ‘waterbird Aoba Mountain’ (midutori no awoba no yama) is extremely old-fashioned, but the poem of the Right has ‘clouds claw in and, upon the fisherfolks’ tiny boats do blow; until the thatch’ (kakikumori ama no wobune ni fuku toma), which are not things on which spring or summer showers fall, so there is no linking sense with ‘right through to beneath’ (sita toForu made). Thus, I must conclude that showers which dye the treetops is slightly superior.
Left (Tie).
奈呉の海士の塩燒く煙空にのみ我名を立てゝやまんとやする
| nago no ama no shio yaku kemuri sora ni nomi wa ga na wo tatete yaman to ya suru |
At Nago the fisherfolk’s Salt-burning smoke fills The skies; is that all My names is to be? Gossip And then the end? |
Kenshō.
959
Right.
山田守るかひ屋が下の煙こそこがれもやらぬたぐひなりけれ
| yamada moru kaiya ga shita no kemuri koso kogare mo yaranu tagui narikere |
Warding the mountain fields Beneath the heated hut The smoke Smoulders without end – And so do I! |
Jakuren
960
The Right state: the Left’s poem has no faults. The Left state: we wonder about the usage of ‘beneath the heated hut’ (kaiya ga shita) with ‘warding the mountain fields’ (yamada moru). In reply: in the Man’yōshū ‘heated hut’ (kaiya), is written with characters meaning ‘deer-repelling fire hut’. In addition, in territories where they wish to drive the deer away from their mountain paddies, they take things which smell foul when burnt, such as hair, and burn them, and in order that the fires are not put out by the rain, they build a roof over them. The common folk of these places call these things ‘heated huts’ (kaiya). So, the Man’yōshū’s usage corresponds with actual practice. Again, a further criticism from the Left: the Master of the Crown Prince’s Household Office composed a poem on salting. Atsutaka also includes ‘heated hut’ in the section on mosquito fires. Such are the ideas of our forebears. That ‘heated hut’ is written in Man’yōshū with characters meaning ‘deer-repelling fire’ and ‘scented fire’ is no proof of anything. Might it not have been written this way so that it would be read to mean ‘keep’? One certainly cannot sweepingly say that it means ‘deer-repelling fire’. A further response from the Right: our forebears have presented no definite evidence, and so it is difficult to accept this argument. In addition, has it not long been accepted that ‘morning haze’ can be used to refer to the smoke from deer-repelling fires, when composing on the haze spreading? Furthermore, in the Hitomaroshū, there is the poem ‘On Kogane Mountain / Beneath the heated hut / Frogs call’. Thus, it appears that this composition must refer to mountain fields.
In judgement: the Left’s ‘At Nago the fisherfolk’ (nago no ama) links the initial and latter sections of the poem extremely well. There seems to be have been some discussion from both teams about the Right’s ‘beneath the heated hut the smoke’ (kaiya ga shita no kemuri). Prior to the to and fro about this poem, was there not a similar discussion about heated huts in the final section of spring poems about frogs? With the greatest respect, the discussion here seems little different. However, in regard to the Right’s poem, saying that love smoulders is the normal way of expressing matters. I do wonder about ‘smoulders without end’ (kogare mo yaranu), but this would certainly seem appropriate with the reference to a heated hut. The Left, in addition, with ‘salt burning smoke’ (yaku shio kemuri) lacks any faults to indicate, so with no clear winner or loser, I make this round a tie.
朝なぎに楫の音聞こゆ御食つ国野島の海人の舟にしあるらし
| asa nagi ni kadi no oto kikoyu miketu kuni nozima no ama no pune ni si arurasi |
In the morning calm I hear the sound of oars; Tribute-bearing, The fisherfolk of Nojima Have taken ship, it seems. |
Yamabe no Akahito
When she was asked about the possibility of a meeting.
みるめ刈る海人の行きかふ湊路に勿来の関も我は据ゑぬを
| mirume karu ama no yukikau minatoji ni nakoso no seki mo ware wa suenu o |
Gathering seaweed The fisherfolk go back and forth Along the harbour ways; Come not to the barrier of Nakoso – I have not placed it there, so… |
Ono no Komachi
小野小町
This poem is also Komachi-shū 小町集 (late. C9th) 5.
あゆの風いたく吹くらし奈呉の海人の釣する小船漕ぎ隠る見ゆ
| ayu no kaze itaku pukurasi nago no ama no turisuru wobune kogikakuru miyu |
The eastern wind Blows strong, it seems; The fisherfolk at Nago: Their tiny boats Seem to hide, as they row along. |
Ōtomo no Yakamochi
大伴家持
Left (Win).
靡かじな海士の藻塩火焚き初めて煙は空にくゆりわぶ共
| nabikaji na ama no moshiobi takisomete kemuri wa sora ni kuyuriwabutomo |
She has not so much as waved to me, yet The fisher-folk salt fires Have begun to kindle and The smoke into the skies Has yet to rise… |
607
ight.
葦の屋の隙漏る雨の雫こそ音聞かぬより袖は濡れけれ
| ashi no ya no hima moru ame no shizuku koso oto kikanu yori sode wa nurekeri |
Through a roof of reeds’ Chinks, drenching rain Drops Make no sound, yet Soak my sleeves. |
608
The Right state that it should be kuyuru in the Left’s poem – and that they are not accustomed to hearing kuyuri. The Left state that, ‘while the rain falling on a roof of reeds would make no sound, once it became drops dripping through, it would. In addition, while it “makes no sound”, how can it be love?’
Shunzei’s judgement: The gentlemen of the Right’s claim that the Left’s poem should be kuyuri is incorrect. This is simply a case of the same diction as in utsuru-utsuri, todomaru-todomari – I should not have to give more examples. In form the poems do have good and bad points [utazama zen’aku arubeki]. I have the feeling I have recently seen something similar to the Right’s metaphorical use of a roof of reeds. Or maybe it was not that recently. The Left’s ‘has yet to rise’ seems better. I shall make it the winner.