Frogs (蛙)
たかせ舟のぼるほり江の水を浅み草がくれにてかはづなくなり
| takasebune noboru horie no mizu o asami kusagakure nite kawazu nakunari |
Skips Ascend the canal’s Shallow waters; Hidden in the grasses, The frogs are singing. |
Minamoto no Akinaka (1058-1138)
源顕仲
Tag Archives: grasses
SKKS I: 10
Composed on the conception of lingering snow, for the Hundred Poem Sequences Commemorating the Reign of Former Emperor Horikawa.
かすがのゝしたもえわたるくさのうへにつれなくみゆる春のあは雪
| kasugano no shitamoewataru kusa no ue ni tsurenaku miyuru haru no awayuki |
On the plain at Kasuga Sprouting freshly everywhere are Grasses, but atop them Heartlessly, I see The foamy snow of spring! |
Provisional Middle Councillor Kunizane
Winter I: 13
Left (Win).
見し秋を何に殘さん草の原ひとつに變る野邊のけしきに
| mishi aki o nani ni nokosan kusa no hara hitotsu ni kawaru nobe no keshiki ni |
Of the sights of autumn What should I recall? The fields of grasses Have become but one Single plain within my view… |
505
Right.
霜枯の野邊のあはれを見ぬ人や秋の色には心とめけむ
| shimogare no nobe no aware o minu hito ya aki no iro ni wa kokoro tomekemu |
A frost-burned Plain – so sad: Can one who’s viewed it not Hold the hues of autumn Within his heart? |
506
The Right state that the phrase ‘fields of grasses’ (kusa no hara) ‘sounds poor’ [kikiyokarazu]. The Left state that the Right’s poem is ‘antiquated’ [furumekashi].
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘What should I recall? The fields of grasses’ (nani ni nokosan kusa no hara) is charming [en ni koso haberumere]. The gentlemen of the Right’s reasoning for finding fault with ‘fields of grasses’ is highly flawed [mottomo utata aru ni ya]. Murasaki Shikibu was better at writing prose than composing poems. Thus, The Festival of the Cherry Blossoms is particularly charming [koto ni en’naru mono nari]. It is highly regrettable for one to compose poetry without having read The Tale of Genji. The Right’s poem does not appear poor in diction and conception [kokoro kotoba ashiku wa miezaru]. However, it is extremely mundane in style [tsune no tei narubeshi]. The Left’s poem is better, and I make it the winner.
Autumn I: 30
Left.
朝まだき庭も籬も野分して露をきあがる草の葉もなし
| asa madaki niwa mo magaki mo nowakishite tsuyu okiagaru kusa no ha mo nashi |
At the cusp of dawn My garden and my fence, too, After the gales, Are drenched in dew Flattened blades of grass – every one. |
359
Right.
夕間暮むら雲迷ひ吹風に枕定めぬ花の色いろ
| yūmagure muragumo mayoi fuku kaze ni makura sadamenu hana no iroiro |
In the dim dusk light Crowding clouds confusedly Blown by the breeze Unable to rest are all The many blooms. |
360
The Right state that ‘linking “gales” with “drenched” is a poor expression’, while the Left feel that they have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.
Shunzei, again, broadly agrees: ‘What are we to make of the Left’s poem with a fence left standing in a garden after a gale? The Right’s “crowding clouds confusedly” is fine, indeed. Although the term “pillow” is unsuitable in this context, the Left’s “drenched in dew” cannot possibly be right here, either, and so the Right wins.”
Autumn I: 26
Left.
百草の花もいかにか思ふらんあな情なの今朝の野分や
| momokusa no hana mo ika ni ka omouran ana nasakena no kesa no nowaki ya |
A myriad of grasses’ Bloom: o what To think? How heartless was The gale this morning! |
351
Right (Win).
吹亂る野分の風の荒ければ安き空なき花の色色
| fukimidaru nowaki no kaze no arakereba yasuki sora naki hana no iroiro |
Blown into confusion by The gale’s gusts So fierce; No respite to bloom For any of the blossoms! |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
352
Neither Left nor Right can find anything to remark upon this round, and say as much.
Shunzei states, ‘“How heartless” (ana nasake na) is, indeed, an intriguing choice of words. The Right’s “blown into confusion” (fukimidaru) is reminiscent of the Tamakazura’s poem in Genji and all the more charming for it, is it not? Furthermore, the Left’s “blooms: o what” (hana mo ika ni ka) and the Right’s “no respite to bloom” (yasuki sora naki) are of equivalent quality, but the Left’s “myriad of grasses” lacks a linking term. Including “blown into confusion” makes the Right’s poem slightly superior, I would say.’
Autumn I: 21
Left (Win).
夕風の眞野の萩原吹くまゝに閨荒れぬとや鶉鳴らん
| yūkaze no mano no hagiwara fuku mama ni neya arenu to ya uzura nakuran |
As the evening breeze across Mano’s bush clover meadow Does blow, Their roost disturbed, perhaps, Quail burst into cry. |
341
Right.
風の音花の色にもしるかりつ鶉鳴べき野邊の氣色は
| kaze no oto hana no iro ni mo shirukaritsu uzura nakubeki nobe no keshiki wa |
The sound of wind, and The grasses’ hues Do tell it: ‘Tis fit that quails cry Upon a scene of plains. |
342
The Right have no criticisms to make of the Left’s poem. The Left simply remark that having both iro and keshiki (which use the character 色) is ‘a fault’.
Shunzei’s judgement is that, ‘the Left’s “does blow” (fuku mama ni), followed by “their roost disturbed, perhaps” (neya arenu to ya) is not a particularly expression. The Right’s, “do tell it” (shirukaritsu) is somewhat old-fashioned; I would not regard it as a fault, but I do regret it. Thus, the “roost” should win.’
Summer II: 20
Left (Tie).
枯れわたる軒の下草うちしほれ涼しくにほふ夕立の空
| karewataru noki no shitagusa uchishiore suzushiku niou yūdachi no sora |
Withered are The grasses ‘neath my eves And drooping; Scenting coolness in A sky of evening showers. |
279
Right (Tie).
夏の日を誰が住む里にいとふらん涼しくゝもる夕立の空
| natsu no hi o ta ga sumu sato ni itouran suzushiku kumoru yūdachi no sora |
The summer sun: Whose home does it Seem to shun? Coolly clouded Evening showers fill the sky. |
280
The Right state that the Left’s poems has ‘no particular problems, while the Left simply remark that the latter section of the Right’s poem is ‘identical to one by En’i’.
Shunzei states, ‘The gentlemen of the Left have suggested that the latter section of the Right’s poem is identical to one by the Monk En’i. I, however, have no knowledge of such a poem. However, both ‘scenting coolness’ (suzushiku niou) and ‘coolly clouded’ (suzushiku kumoru) seem equivalent in quality.’
Summer I: 12
Left.
夏草のもとも拂はぬ故郷に露よりうへを風通ふなり
| natsu kusa no moto mo harawanu furusato ni tsuyu yori ue o kaze kayounari |
The summer grasses Are yet uncut At this ancient home of mine; Over the fallen dewdrops, The sound of gusting wind… |
203
Right (Win).
夏草のなかを露けみ分くる野はわが故郷の垣根なりけり
| natsu kusa no naka o tsuyukemi wakuru no wa wa ga furusato no kakine narikeri |
Within the summer grasses Dewy depths, Forging ‘cross the plain and My ancient home’s Brushwood fence appears. |
204
The Right team query, ‘How is it that the wind can pass “over the fallen dewdrops” (tsuyu yori ue o)?’ The Left content themselves with saying that the Right’s poem is ‘difficult to grasp’.
Shunzei, though, remarks, ‘The Left’s “over the fallen dewdrops” is a wonderfully charming expression. It is the initial “are yet uncut” (moto mo harawanu) which is extremely difficult to understand. The Right’s configuration and diction seem particularly fine [sugata kotoba yoroshiku koso haberumere], though, so it is, just, the winner.’
Summer I: 11
Left (Tie).
夏山の草葉のたけぞ知られぬる春見し小松人し引かずは
| natsuyama no kusaba no take zo shirarenuru haru mishi komatsu hito hikazu wa |
Summer in the mountains, and The grasses reach so high, that Had they but known In springtime, on the glimpsed pine-seedlings Folk would have laid no hand… |
201
Right (Tie).
道もなき夏野の草の庵かな花にけがるゝ庭と見しまに
| michi mo naki natsuno no kusa no iori kana hana ni kegaruru niwa to mishi ma ni |
Within a trackless Summer field does my grass Hut stand now; While on fallen blossom staining My garden did I rest my gaze… |
202
The Right wonder, ‘Whether summer greenery recalls the mountains as much as it does the plains? The overall point of the poem seems difficult to grasp.’ The Left have no particular comments to make.
Shunzei states, ‘The gentlemen of the Right have already questioned the suitability of greenery in relation to mountains rather than the plains. In addition, what is one to make of blossom falling round a hut, as opposed to a mountain lodge. If the topic was “Field Lodges”, then there are some autumn blooms, but cherry and plum blossom, and the like, fail to fall that much on the plains. Thus, I would agree with the Right’s comments on the Left’s poem. The Right’s poem, though, lacks logic. The round must be a tie.’
Summer I: 10
Left.
夏來てぞ野中の庵は荒れまさる窓とぢてけり軒の下草
| natsu kite zo nonaka no io wa aremasaru mado tojitekeri noki no shitagusa |
Summer has come, and Out upon the plains, the hut Has gone to ruin – Windows sealed by Grasses growing ‘neath the eaves. |
199
Right (Win).
わが宿のよもぎが庭は深し誰分けよとか打ちも拂はん
| wa ga yado no yomogi ga niwa wa fukashi dare wakeyo to ka uchi mo harawan |
My dwelling’s Garden is all overgrown Deep as deep can be, but With no-one to force a passage through I’ll not sweep it back! |
200
The Right have no criticisms to make of the Left’s poem. The Left, though, wonder, ‘What is the meaning of “sweep” (uchiharau) in relation to a garden?’
Shunzei comments: ‘The poems of both Left and Right are superb in configuration and diction [sugata kotoba yū ni haberi]. However, the Left, by saying “gone to ruin” (aremasaru) about a hut on the plains, gives the impression it is talking about the beginning of winter, just after the end of autumn. Furthermore, the poem also gives the impression of being composed on the topic of “Field Lodges” (notei). As for the Right, it is certainly possible to sweep away an overgrown garden, as well as the dust from one’s bed, so I see no problems with this usage. Saying “summer’s deep” is by no means unpleasant. The Right wins.”