Tag Archives: hara

Dairi uta’awase – Tentoku yo nen 01

Round One

Haze[i]

Left

くらはしのやまのかひより春がすみとしをつみてやたちわたるらん

kurahashi no
yama no kai yori
harugasumi
toshi o tsumite ya
tachiwataruran
From Kurahashi
Mountain’s passes
Does the haze of spring
Store up the new year as
It rises all around, I wonder?

Asatada
1[ii]

Right

ふるさとは春めきにけりみよし野のみかきのはらをかすみこめたり

furusato wa
harumekinikeri
miyoshino no
mikaki no hara o
kasumi kometari
Around the capital of old
Spring is all about.
In fair Yoshino
Mikaki plain is
All covered o’er with haze.

Kanemori
2[iii]

When both Left and Right had recited their poems, His Majesty spoke to this minor official, saying, ‘You should determine their merits and failings.’ I demurred, saying, ‘My understanding of the thirty-one syllables of waka is not such as to enable me to do this. I humbly request that Your Majesty decides.’ His Majesty, responded, ‘Should you not do this, it will spoil today’s events, and store up resentment. Make your determinations swiftly.’ In the face of His Majesty’s displeasure, I presented my own clumsy opinions.

In the Left’s poem, it is pleasant to describe Mount Kurahashi [Storehouse-bridge] as storing up the new year. In addition, it is certainly the case that crossing a bridge is what one does. The poem’s overall manner is also appropriate. As for the Right’s poem, the reference to being covered with haze seems a bit late, leaving one to wonder why the capital is springlike.

This round, my decision reflected His Majesty’s views. Observing the expressions of the imperial mien, I swiftly declared the Left the winner.


[i] Kasumi

[ii] This poem was included in the third edition of Kin’yōshū (I: 3), although not in either of the earlier two versions. It is also in Shinsen rōeishū (I: 69).

[iii] This poem is included in Shikashū (I: 3)

Kinkai wakashū 583

しながどりゐなののはらのささ枕まくらの霜ややどる月かげ

shinagadori
inano no hara no
sasamakura
makura no shimo ya
yadoru tsukikage
Upon waterbird-filled
Inano Plain, with
A pillow of bamboo—
And the frost upon my pillow is
The moonlight’s lodging…[i]

583


[i] See: Topic unknown. しながどりゐなのをゆけばありまやま夕ぎり立ちぬやどはなくして shinagadori / inano o yukeba / arimayama / yūgiri tachinu / yado wa nakushite ‘Through waterbird-filled / Inano I go, as / Upon Arima Mountain / Evening mist has risen, and / Me without a lodging…’ Anonymous (Shinkokinshū X: 910)

Eien narabō uta’awase 13

Round Six

Left

夜もすがらまつにはなかでほととぎすあしたのはらにひとこゑぞきく

yomosugara
matsu ni wa nakade
hototogisu
ashita no hara ni
hitokoe zo kiku
All through the night
I pined without a song,
O, cuckoo
Then with the morn on Ashita plain
I hear a single call!

Cell of Fragrant Cloud
25

Right (Win)

五月にはしばなくやとぞほととぎすなほうらまちにさぬるよもなし

satsuki ni wa
shiba naku ya to zo
hototogisu
nao uramachi ni
sanuru yo mo nashi
In the Fifth Month
Incessantly might he sing—I think, so
The cuckoo
I am already eagerly awaiting,
Sleeping not at all on any night!

Cell of Compassionate Light
26

The Left’s poem seems to have an extraordinary conception, yet its diction is insufficient. The Right’s poem is old-fashionedly artless and thus has elements which are entirely poetically backward-looking.

The Left’s poem  is particularly oddly composed in that is fails to account for the essential meaning of Ashita Plain. Does saying a ‘single call now’[1] mean that that one could wait expectantly during the day, too?

As for the Right’s poem, a cuckoo is not something that calls incessantly, yet I wonder if this composition is not, in some form,  a plea that it would? As for ‘eagerly await’, well, I feel that it would be better to have ‘awaited’ rather than ‘awaiting’—that sounds like something one would have done ‘nothing but’ first. It seems a bit distasteful, like a poem by someone who has been perusing the Collection of a Myriad Leaves.


[1] On a folding screen for the Coming-of-Age Ceremony of the Northern Princess. 行きやらで山ぢくらしつほととぎす今ひとこゑのきかまほしさに yukiyarade / yamaji kurashitsu / hototogisu / ima hitokoe no / kikamahoshisa ni ‘I cannot go ahead / As twilight falls upon the mountain paths / For a cuckoo’s / Single call now / Is what I long to hear…’ Minamoto no Kintada (SIS II: 106)