Tag Archives: man

Nishinomiya uta’awase 18

Round Eighteen

Left

蘭きてみる人もなき宿に恋すてふ名のいかで立ちけん

fujibakama
kitemiru hito mo
naki yado ni
koisu chō na no
ikade tachiken
My violet asters
To come to see no one is
There at my house, so
Why has a rumour of love
Arisen here?

Chikafusa
35

Right

わが恋ふる人もきてみぬ蘭何とてつゆの染めておくらん

wa ga kouru
hito mo kiteminu
fujibakama
nani tote tsuyu no
somete’okuran
I love him, yet
That man has not come to see you
O, asters, so
Why does the dewfall
Dye you in its falling?

The Head’s Daughter
36

The Left’s overall impression is not bad, but I am curious about why a rumour of love should darken the door of a house, if it’s one where ‘no one comes to see’. Then, the Right uses ‘Why does the dewfall / Dye you in its falling?’—this seems like an excessive use of diction and the sequencing doesn’t sound smooth, so these seem of about the same standard.

Nishinomiya uta’awase 16

Round Sixteen

Left

荻のはは暮行く風に音すなり我がまつ人のかからましかば

ogi no ha wa
kureyuku kaze ni
otosu nari
wa ga matsu hito no
kakaramashikaba
The cogon grass fronds
With the falling twilight breezes
Sound out, though
Were it the man I’m waiting for
It would be better…

Major Controller of the Left Tametaka
31

Right

逢ふことはかた野にしげる荻の葉の音をばたつな秋ははつとも

au koto wa
katano ni shigeru
ogi no ha no
oto oba tatsu na
aki wa hatsu tomo
Our meeting, so hard:
On the hillside thickly growing,
O, cogon grass fronds
Do not make a sound!
For with autumn’s end I have had enough, yet..

Horikawa, Court Lady to Her Highness
32

I feel that the emotions encompassed by the sound of the wind in ‘Were it the man I’m waiting for / It would be better’ sounded more striking than ‘On the hillside thickly growing, / O, cogon grass fronds’.

Kinkai wakashū 538

Love and Tanabata.

七夕にあらぬわが身のなぞもかく年に稀なる人を待つらん

tanabata ni
aranu wa ga mi no
nazo mo kaku
toshi ni marenaru
hito o matsuran
The Weaver Maid
My sorry self is not, but[1]
Why is it that,
Rarely, but once a year,
That man’s visit I seem to await?

538


[1] An allusive variation on: Topic unknown. 篝火にあらぬわが身のなぞもかく涙の河にうきてもゆらむ kagaribi ni / aranu wa ga mi no / nazo mo kaku / namida no kawa ni / ukite moyuramu ‘A fisher’s torch / I’m not, so why does my sorry self / Yet / Upon a river of tears, / Burning, seem to drift along?’ Anonymous (KKS XI: 529)

Eien narabō uta’awase 15

The Moon

Round One

Left (Win)

いたまよりねざめのとこにもる月をこひしきひととおもはましかば

itama yori
nezame no toko ni
moru tsuki o
koishiki hito to
omowamashikaba
Between the boards,
Waking me in my bed
Drips moonlight—
The man I love
If only it did more than bring to mind…

Lord Dainagon
29

Right

くれはどりふたむらやまをきて見ればめもあやにこそ月も見えけれ

kurehadori
futamurayama o
kite mireba
me mo aya ni koso
tsuki mo miekere
When the weave of twilight
Upon Futamura Mountain
One comes to see,
Another pattern fills the eye—
Bright moonlight.

Lord Chūnagon
30

The poem of the Left has an extremely refined configuration, but is lacking much of a conception of the moon, and has a much greater one of love. The poem of the Right has a moving conception, but it is about scarlet leaves that one says ‘another pattern fills the eye’. There have been no compositions to date utilizing this about the moon. As both poems have dubious elements, I feel they are of the same quality.

I must say that the initial section of the poem of the Left, ‘between the boards’, is something that not even the poets of bygone days placed at the beginning of their poems. I would say that such expressions as ‘between the boards of a ruined house’ sound blended, implying that the appearance within is fine. Perhaps the poet mistook this? In addition, I do not feel that this is a moon poem, and would have to say that it’s a love one. It really is very odd, isn’t it—suddenly including a love poem here. The poem of the Right has nothing about it worth mentioning, yet it appears to be a moon poem superficially. There’s nothing for it but, faced with the poem of the Left, which beats the hastiest of hasty retreats and ignores the essential meaning of the topic, but to make it the winner!

Ise monogatari, Chapter 31

In days long past, when a man was passing a certain lady’s apartments at the palace, the lady, seeming to bear him some ill will, called out, ‘Go on, then, you creeper and see what becomes of you!’[1] The man replied:

罪もなき人をうけへば忘れ草おのが上にぞ生ふといふなる

tsumi mo naki
hito o uke’eba
wasuregusa
ono ga ue ni zo
ou to iu naru
When a sinless
Man you curse,
Forgotten, among the day-lillies
Upon you
Growing, will you be, they say!

64

Some among the women were very vexed by that.


[1] Sanjōnishi Sanetaka (1455-1537) identifies this as part of a poem from Shoku man’yōshū:

忘れゆくつらさはいかにいのちあらばよしや草葉よならむさがみむ

wasureyuku
tsurasa wa ika ni
inochi araba
yoshi ya kusaba
naramu saga mimu
To gradually forget
Your cruelty, somehow
Had I but life left,
Go on, then, you creeper, and
See what becomes of you!

Shoku man’yōshū is no longer extant, and so the accuracy of this cannot be determined (Horiuchi and Akiyama 1997, 111).

Kusaba (‘blade of grass’), which I have translated as ‘creeper’, was a slang term used to refer to an unfaithful man.

Daikōtaigōgū no suke taira no tsunemori-ason ke uta’awase 07

Round Seven

Left (Win)

萩がはな分けゆく程は古郷へかへらぬ人もにしきをぞきる

hagi ga hana
wakeyuku hodo wa
furusato e
kaeranu hito mo
nishiki o zo kiru
When through the bush-clover blooms
He forges his way,
To his ancient home
Never to return—that man, too,
Wears a fine brocade!

Minamoto no Arifusa, Minor Captain in the Inner Palace Guards, Right Division

13

Right

声たてて鳴くむしよりも女郎花いはぬ色こそ身にはしみけれ

koe tatete
naku mushi yori mo
ominaeshi
iwanu iro koso
mi ni wa shimikere
They lift their songs in
Plaintive cries, but far more than the insects
‘Tis the maidenflower’s
Wordless hue that truly
Pierce my soul!

Junior Assistant Minister of Central Affairs Sadanaga
14

The Left is well-composed, but what is the Right’s ‘wordless hue’? Are we supposed to imagine that the expression means ‘silent yellow’? This is difficult to grasp, isn’t it. Whatever way you look at it, the Left seems to win.