稀にきて稀にやどかる人もあらじ哀とおもへ庭のまつ風
| mare ni kite mare ni yado karu hito mo araji aware to omoe niwa no matsukaze | Even rarely coming, and Rarely borrowing my hut— There’s no such man, it seems, so Pity me, Pinewinds through my garden! |
590
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)
Kinkai wakashū 536
Kinkai wakashū 534
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!
Kinkai wakashū 516
Kinkai wakashū 513
On waiting for love through the years, when folk had composed poetry.[i]
故郷のあさぢが露にむすぼほれひとりなく虫の人をうらむる
| furusato no asaji ga tsuyu ni musubōre hitori naku mushi no hito o uramuru | At this ancient estate The cogon grass by dew Is held fast, as All alone a single insect cries, Hating that man… |
513
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.