Tag Archives: maki

Eien narabō uta’awase 08

Cuckoos

Round One

Left

ほととぎすまきのとばかりまちつれどなかであけぬる夏のしののめ

hototogisu
maki no to bakari
machitsuredo
nakade akenuru
natsu no shinonome
O, cuckoo,
Briefly by my door of cedar wood
Did I await you, yet
No song, at all, brightened
This summer edge of dawn.

Lord Dainagon
15

Right (Win)

ほととぎすなくうれしさをつつめどもそらにはこゑもとまらざりけり

hototogisu
naku ureshisa o
tsutsumedomo
sora ni wa koe mo
tomarazarikeri
At the cuckoo’s
Song, my joy
To hold fast did I try, yet
In the skies, his cry
Lingered not.

Lord Chūnagon
16

The Left’s poem, after careful consideration, has a graceful style. The diction of the Right’s poem is superb, and there is an excess of conception. Reading and reciting these leaves my aged heart at a loss. Thus, they tie.

In the Left’s poem, ‘briefly’ is an expression which means ‘just for a short time’, I think, and thus the sentiments are lacking. Saying ‘brightened…edge of dawn’ sounds as if the poet has only begun waiting at daybreak. One does see, apparently, a number of poems in prior matches where the poet has not heard the cuckoo. Nevertheless, I do wonder about whether this is appropriate, given that poems where the cuckoo has been heard are faultless. The Right’s poem is not that good, but it is poetic. Thus, it has to win.

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 07

Round Seven

Left (Both Judges – Win)

音にさへ袂をぬらす時雨かな槙の板屋のよはの寝覚に

oto ni sae
tamoto o nurasu
shigure kana
maki no itaya ni
yowa no nezame ni
Even the sound
Does soak my sleeves with
A shower
Striking my roof of cedar boards,
Awaking at midnight…

Lord Sadanobu
13

Right

しぐれとて柞の杜にたちよれば木のはとともに降りかかるかな

shigure tote
hahaso no mori ni
tachiyoreba
ko no ha to tomo ni
furikakaru kana
When with a shower’s fall
Within the oak forest
I head to stand
Together with the leaves,
It strikes me as it falls!

Lord Munekuni
14

Toshiyori states: the first poem’s composition on one’s sleeves getting soaked on hearing a sound is extremely charming. It sounds like that’s really how it is. The latter poem, too, is smooth, and the final line appears to have had some thought put into it, so I dread having to say that the first poem wins.

Mototoshi states: ‘a shower at midnight upon a roof of cedar boards’ is a particularly superlative image, and that this would drench one’s sleeves is also extremely charming. While ‘the oak forest’ does not appear bad, it’s not that remarkable, and ‘waking at midnight’ is something that certainly occurs, I feel.

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 06

Round Six

Left (M – Tie)

さもこそは槙のまやぶき薄からめもるばかりにもうつ時雨かな

samo koso wa
maki no mayabuki
usukarame
moru bakari ni mo
utsu shigure kana
Truly,
A roof of cedar boughs
Seems scanty, for
It simply leaks when
Struck by a shower!

Lord Morotoshi
11

Right (T – Win)

木の葉のみ染むるかとこそおもひしに時雨は人のみにしみにけり

ko no ha nomi
somuru ka to koso
omoishi ni
shigure wa hito no
mi ni shiminikeri
‘Is it the leaves upon the trees alone
It dyes?’
I wondered once, but
A shower on folk’s
Flesh does leave a mark…

Lord Masamitsu
12

Toshiyori states: the first poem deliberately starts with ‘A roof of cedar boughs’ and then concludes with ‘Struck by a shower’ which is vague. It does sound like the poet might have had ‘the lonely sighing sound of rain beating against my window’ in mind when composing. In any case, this is something which would have been better avoided. If he wished to compose on this sort of thing, and had done so without this element, then the poem would not be unpleasant. As for the Right, well, this does sound somewhat scanty! Still, what kind of colour might the poet’s flesh be marked? If it was the colour of the leaves, then this would be pretentious, wouldn’t it. If he wanted to refer to the hue of the wind in the pines, then why didn’t he say so? As a composition about a shower, though, this sounds slightly better.

Mototoshi states: having such a thin roof of cedar boughs struck by a passing shower feels frightening for the people under it. At the beginning of the world, rain as thick as axles fell, I hear—what a terrifying shower that must have been! The expression ‘rain beating against my window’ occurs in a poem from Cathay, referring, it seems, to rain blown by the wind horizontally striking one’s fence. Thus, it does sound extremely moving to compose about rains striking one’s window and keeping one awake, but, then again, while it’s certainly true that showers dye the treetops on the mountains in all directions, what sort of mark would they leave on a person’s flesh? It sounds like the old tale of the well-warden’s sign, doesn’t it! This round, both poems are about the same.

Sumiyoshi-sha uta’awase kaō ni-nen 35

Round Ten

Left (Tie)

くさまくらしぐれもそでをぬらしけりみやこをこふるなみだならねど

kusamakura
shigure mo sode o
nurashikeri
miyako o kouru
namida naranedo
On a pillow of grass
The showers, too, my sleeves
Have soaked;
Longing for the capital
These tears are not, yet…

Hiromori
69

Right

かりいほさすならのからはのむらしぐれあはれはまきのおとばかりかは

kari’io sasu
nara no karawa no
murashigure
aware wa maki no
oto bakari ka wa
Erecting a crude hut,
The withered leaves of oak are
Struck by cloudbursts;
Does sadness in the evergreens’
Sound solely lie?

Dharma Master Chikyō
70

Both Left and Right appear to have elegant configuration and diction, but the Left seems to presents the soaking of sleeves by showers as something novel, while the Right gives a feeling that it is only the sound of evergreens that makes one sad. Thus, these tie.

GSIS VI: 401

Composed on early snow for a palace poetry contest held in Eishō 4 [1049].

みやこにもはつゆきふればをの山のまきのすみがまたきまさるらん

miyako ni mo
Fatuyuki Fureba
wonoyama no
maki no sumigama
takimasaruran
In the capital, too
When the first snow falls
Among Onoyama’s
Evergreens the charcoal kilns
Seem to smoulder more and more.

Sagami