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Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn II: 24

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Left (Win).

浪寄する澤の蘆邊をふし侘て風に立つなり鴫の羽がき

nami yosuru
sawa no ashibe o
fushiwabite
kaze ni tatsunari
shigi no hanegaki		 A wave beats on
The marshy reed beds;
Roost broken, sorrowfully
Starting up into the breeze
The snipe work their wings.

A Servant Girl.

407

Right.

明ぬとて澤立つ鴫の一聲は羽かくよりも哀なりけり

akenu tote
sawa tatsu shigi no
hito koe wa
hane kaku yori mo
aware narikeri		 Crying that there’s no dawn yet,
Starting from the marsh, a snipe’s
Single call,
More that his beating wings
Summons sadness…

Ietaka.

408

The Right wonder, ‘if it wouldn’t be rather difficult for a lightly beat its wings on taking off into the wind, as in the Left’s poem?’ The Left respond with, ‘In the Right’s poem, the accustomed reference to the sound of the snipe’s wings, seems subordinated to its cry. Is that right?’

Shunzei’s judgement: A snipe’s wing-beats on taking off into a strong wind are not that vigorous. ‘The snipe work their wings’ (shigi no hanegaki) is what they do, whether gently or not. However, this poem has more of a feeling of reed-bed dwelling birds like cranes, or plovers. In the Right’s poem, it’s not clear what kind of snipe it is ‘starting from the marsh’. The Left’s ‘reed-bed snipe’ should win.

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn II: 16

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Left (Tie).

秋田守る賤が庵に宿からんさても此世は過ぬべき身ぞ

akita moru
shizu ga iori ni
yado karan
satemo kono yo wa
suginubeki mi zo		 The autumn paddies warding,
A peasant’s hut – there
Will I find lodging;
And thus, within this world
Will I be able to spend my time!

Lord Kanemune.

391

Right (Tie).

深からぬ山田の庵も秋はなを心のはては見つべかりけり

fukakaranu
yamada no io mo
aki wa nao
kokoro no hate wa
mitsubekarikeri		 Not deep at all within
The mountain paddies is this hut, yet
Autumn, still,
My heart, to the brim,
Does fill…

Ietaka.

392

The Right complain that the Left’s poem ‘appears to be expressing somewhat outré sentiments’. The Left state on the other hand that the Right’s poem is ‘not bad’.

Shunzei’s judgement: the type of emotional import expressed in the Left’s poem is superlative. In The Tales of Ise, after all, there is the section on ‘gathering fallen ears of rice’ – most charming! To say that this is outré suggests a deficiency of understanding. The Right’s poem, too, conveys an emotional message. I must wonder about the use of ‘Not deep at all within’ (fukakaranu), but still, the round should tie.

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn II: 10

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Left (Win).

夕さればそゝや下葉も安からで露は袂に荻の上風

yūsareba
soso ya shitaba mo
yasukarade
tsuyu wa tamoto ni
ogi no uwakaze		 When the evening comes,
Rustling underleaves
Are restless;
Dewdrops on the sleeves:
Wind o’er the silver-grass.

Lord Ari’ie.

379

Right.

暮行けば野邊も一つに露滿ちて蟲の音になる庭の淺茅生

kureyukeba
nobe mo hitotsu ni
tsuyu michite
mushi no ne ni naru
niwa no asajū		 When evening falls
The plains, too, are completely
Dew-drenched;
Insects sing from
The cogon grasses in my garden.

Ietaka.

380

The Right remark that ‘it is not clear what the “underleaves” (shitaba) belong to until the end of the poem’. The Left have a number of criticisms: ‘In the Right’s poem, it sounds as if the “cogon grass” (asaji) becomes “insects”. In addition, the topic of this poem is not “Garden Huts”. Furthermore, the poem lacks any expression conveying the emotional overtones of the topic – particularly with “the plains, too, are completely” (nobe mo hitotsu ni).’

Shunzei’s judgement: It is standard expression to begin a poem with ‘underleaves’, when concluding with ‘silver-grass’ as in the Left’s case. However, ‘rustling’ (sosoya) seems unnecessary in this poem. It seems a rather forced interpretation to think the cogon grass is turning into insects, seeing as this is not something that happens in nature. That this is a poem more suited to the topic of ‘Garden Huts’, though, is an unavoidable fault. So, while I cannot be satisfied with the inclusion of ‘rustling’, the final section of this poem is fine. It wins.

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn II: 4

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Left.

古の人を聞くにも秋の夜の窓打つ雨はさびしかりけり

inishie no
hito o kiku ni mo
aki no yo no
mado utsu ame wa
sabishikarikeri		 Long ago
The ladies, I hear,
On autumn nights
With rain beating ‘gainst the window
Were lonely, as am I…

Lord Kanemune.

367

Right.

軒近き松の風だにある物を窓打ち添ふる秋の村雨

noki chikaki
matsu no kaze dani
aru mono o
mado uchisouru
aki no murasame		 Close by my eaves,
Waiting, with the wind through the pines,
Striking,
The window, beaten by
Autumn showers.

Ietaka.

368

The Right complain, ‘In the Left’s poem, the poet seems to hear of the appearance of “long ago ladies”, but what is it that he hears – one would usually expect more, would one not?’ The Left have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.

Shunzei broadly agrees: ‘The Left’s poem, in saying “ladies, I hear” would certainly seem to be recollecting the concubines at the court of Xuanzong, but I wonder if this is clearly enough expressed in the poem? The Right’s final section “The window, beaten by Autumn showers” (mado uchisouru aki no murasame) sounds particularly fine. Thus, the Right wins.’

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn I: 29

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Left.

昨日まで蓬に閉ぢし柴の戸も野分に晴るゝ岡の邊の里

kinō made
yomogi ni tojishi
shiba no to mo
nowaki ni haruru
oka no be no sato		 Until yesterday
Sealed by mugwort was
This brushwood door;
Swept clear by the gale
The hills around my dwelling.

A Servant Girl.

357

Right.

假にさす庵までこそ靡きけれ野分に堪へぬ小野の篠原

kari ni sasu
iori made koso
nabikikere
nowaki ni taenu
ono no shinohara		 Roughly thatched,
Even my hut
Has blown away:
Unable to endure the gales
Amongst the arrow bamboo groves…

Ietaka.

358

Both teams say they can appreciate the sentiment of the opposing team’s poem.

Shunzei agrees: ‘Both the Left’s “hills around my dwelling” (oka no be no sato) and the Right’s “arrow bamboo groves” (ono no shinohara) are charming. “Sealed by mugwort was this brushwood door; swept clear by the gale” (yomogi ni tojishi shiba no to mo nowaki ni haruru) and “Even my hut has blown away: unable to endure the gales” (iori made koso nabikikere nowaki ni taenu) have no failings in form between them. Thus, the round ties.’

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn I: 19

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Left.

鷹の子を手にも据へねど鶉鳴く淡津の原に今日も暮しつ

taka no ko o
te ni mo suenedo
uzura naku
awazu no hara ni
kyō mo kurashitsu		 A hawklet
On my arm have I not, yet
The quails are crying
On Awazu plain, as
The day turns dark.

Kenshō.

337

Right.

秋といへば鶉鳴くなり原鹿の音をこそ花に任すれ

aki to ieba
uzura naku nari
kohagiwara
shika no ne o koso
hana ni makasure		 Autumn is
The quails crying, while
From a field of fresh bush clover,
The stags’ call,
Summoned by the blossoms.

Ietaka.

338

The Right state they have no particular criticisms of the Left this round. The Left, however, remark that, ‘“Quails” do not have such a general reputation. The use of “summoned by the blossoms” (hana ni makasure) is also dubious.’

Shunzei remarks, ‘The Left’s poem would seem to be in the spirit of the popular song “A Hawklet”, except that here the poet lacks the hawklet and “on Awazu plain, the day turns dark” (awazu no hara ni kyō mo kurashitsu). I can only think that he has spent the entire day there wondering about hunting quail! I also feel that the poem’s whole construction is rather commonplace. The Right’s poem is, indeed, poetic, and were there an exemplar poem for the blossoms summoning “the stags’ call” (shika no ne), I would make it the winner. In its absence, the round ties.’

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn I: 18

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Left (Left).

風渡る淺茅が上の露にだに宿りも果てぬ宵の稲妻

kaze wataru
asaji ga ue no
tsuyu ni dani
yadori mo hatenu
yoi no inazuma		 Brushed by the breeze,
Atop the cogon grass
The dewdrops but
Briefly rest:
Lightning at dusk.

Lord Ari’ie.

335

Right.

眺むれば風吹く野邊の露にだに宿りも果てぬ稲妻の影

nagamureba
kaze fuku nobe no
tsuyu ni dani
yadori mo hatenu
inazuma no kage		 Idly gazing
Across the windblown meadow;
The dewdrops but
Briefly rest:
Lightning’s light.

Ietaka.

336

The Right simply say, ‘The Left’s poem is fine, is it not!’ The Left, however, grumble, ‘We cannot see how the final phrase relates to what has come before.’

Shunzei states, ‘Both poems are remarkably similar in spirit and diction, with the Left concluding “lightning at dusk” (yoi no inazuma) and the Right with “lightning’s light” (inazuma no kage) – is there really much to choose between them? The Left wins.’

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn I: 10

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Left (Win).

秋ごとに絶えぬ星合のさ夜更て光傡ぶる庭の灯し火

akigoto ni
taenu hoshiai no
sayo fukete
hikari naraburu
niwa no tomoshibi		 Each and every autumn,
For the eternal meeting of the stars
Night falls, and
Lights align with
The palace garden lanterns.

Lord Sada’ie.

319

Right.

露深き庭の灯し火數消ぬ夜や更ぬらん星合の空

tsuyu fukai
niwa no tomoshibi
kazu kienu
yo ya fukenuran
hoshiai no sora		 Deep dewfall
Upon the garden lanterns
Extinguished a number;
Has night fallen, I wonder,
Upon the sky wherein stars meet?

Ietaka.

320

The Right have no comments to make about the Left’s poem this round, while the Left simply say the Right’s poem has ‘major faults’. (Criticising the use of the completive marker nu twice in quick succession: kienu, fukenuran.)

Shunzei ignores this point, simply saying, ‘The expression “Has night fallen, I wonder, upon the sky wherein stars meet?” (yo ya fukenuran hoshiai no sora) is splendid, but there is no reason for beginning the poem with “deep dewfall” (tsuyu fukaki). The Lefts’ poem has no faults – thus, it must win.’

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Autumn I: 3

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Left (Tie).

秋風の吹も強らぬ眞葛原夏の氣色に猶かへる哉

aki kaze no
fuki mo tsuyoranu
makuzuwara
natsu no keshiki ni
nao kaeru kana		 The autumn wind
Blows with such little strength that
The field of arrowroot
To its summer scene
Has yet returned.

Lord Ari’ie.

305

Right (Tie).

秋來てもまだひとへなる衣手に厭はぬ程の風ぞ吹なる

aki kitemo
mada hitoenaru
koromode ni
itowanu hodo no
kaze zo fukunaru		 Autumn has come, and yet
For my still single-layered
Sleeves
There is no respite in
The breath of wind

Ietaka.

306

The Right state, ‘The expression “little strength” (tsuyoranu) is particularly grating on the ear.’ The Left respond, ‘And what are we really to make of the expression, “no respite in the breath of wind” (itowanu hodo no kaze)? Even in “O, blow my cares away,/First breeze of Autumn!” (kokorosite Fuke aki no Fatukaze), one does not get a sense of dislike for the wind. Furthermore, the core sense of the poem seems inappropriately chilly for the topic.’

Shunzei’s judgement is that, ‘the criticisms of both teams have merit. The Left’s “little strength” is as stated. As for the spirit of the Right’s poem, does not “O, blow my cares away” (kokorosite Fuke) mean that the coolness brings no respite? While the spirit of “Lingering Heat” certainly contains the key sense that things have become slightly cooler, as I said in the last round. In any case, this round is a tie.’

Poetry Competition in Six Hundred Rounds

Summer II: 29

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Left (Win).

夏山のこずゑも高く鳴蝉は中なか聲ぞかすかなりける

natsu yama no
kozue mo takaku
naru semi wa
nakanaka koe zo
kasukanarikeru		 In the summer mountains
Treetop high
The cicadas sing, yet
If anything, their songs
More distant have become.

Lord Kanemune.

297

Right.

秋近き木木の梢に風越えて下葉にうつる蝉の聲ごゑ

aki chikaki
kigi no kozue ni
kaze koete
shitaba ni utsuru
semi no koegoe		 Autumn draws near, and
The trees’ tops are
Brushed by breezes;
Shifted to the lower leaves are
The cicadas’ songs.

Ietaka.

298

The Right state the Left’s poem has nothing problematic about it. The Left wonder whether there is any evidence that cicadas move in response to wind.

Shunzei remarks, ‘The Right’s poem is, indeed, lacking in evidence. However, could it not be that cicadas would feel a sense of danger from the wind and move to a tree’s lower leaves? The Left’s poem is elegant, though, and must win.’