yuki fukami shizu no fuseya mo uzumorete keburi bakari zo shirushi narikeru
Snow so deep that The peasants’ huts, too, Are buried, and The smoke, alone, is Their only sign!
Kinshige 45
Right
花の春もみぢの秋もしるかりし松の木ずゑもみえぬ白雪
hana no haru momiji no aki mo shirukarishi matsu no kozue mo mienu shirayuki
By blossom is spring, and By scarlet leaves is autumn Known— The treetops of the pines Invisible with snow, so white.
Kūnin 46
The Left poem’s conception of ‘sign of smoke’ sounds particularly profound. As for the Right, it is possible for enough snow to fall to conceal a pine’s lower leaves, too, so the poem does not sound satisfying.
A certain man came up to the capital from the East and went to the house of woman with whom he had spoken long before; when she asked why he had come to see her in such haste, he said:
おろかにもおもはましかはあづまぢのふせやといひしのべにねなまし
oroka ni mo
omoFamasikaba
adumadi no
Fuseya to iFisi
nobe ni nenamasi
Heedlessly
Had I thought of you
On the Eastern roads,
Upon Fuseya
Plain would I have rather slept!
When I was sleeping with the same Captain, he said, ‘This is most lonely and tedious! Let’s see if there are any ladies around!’ and sent off a servant who, on returning, said, ‘There is only the voice of a lady saying “Oh, how my belly hurts!”’
園原やいかにやましく思ふぞも伏屋といはむこゝろやはなき
sonohara ya
ika ni yamasiku
omoFu zo mo
Fuseya to iFamu
kokoro ya Fa naki
In Sonohara (your belly):
How painful
Do you feel it is?
Of Fuseya (sleeping with me),
Don’t you think at all?