tabigoromo uraganashikaru yūgure no susono no tsuyu ni akikaze zo fuku
In my traveller’s garb and Sick at heart Of an evening, as Across the meadows on the slopes dewdrops Drift upon the autumn wind! [i]
575
[i] See: 旅ごろもうらがなしさにあかしかね草の枕は夢もむすばず tabigoromo / uraganashisa ni / akashikane / kusa no makura wa / yume mo musabazu ‘In my traveller’s garb / My heart-sickness / I cannot lift, for / My grassy pillow / Brings no dreams, at all…’ Hikaru Genji (Genji monogatari 223); and: たびごろもうらがなしかるあさぢふによはのしぐれよいかにせよとぞ tabigoromo / uraganashikaru / asajū ni / yowa no shigure yo / ika ni seyo to zo ‘In my traveller’s garb and / Sad at heart among / The clumps of cogon grass, / O, midnight shower, / Tell me, what I am I to do?’ Jakuchō (Sumiyoshi-sha uta’awase kaō ni-nen 54)
au koto wa katano no nobe no fujibakama tare kitemiyo to tsuyu no okuran
Our meeting, so hard: In the hillside meadows grow Violet asters— Who should to come to see them Amongst the fallen dew?
Nakafusa, Former Governor of Awaji 33
Right
色もかもよそへてぞみる蘭ねずりの衣馴れしかたみに
iro mo ka mo yosoete zo miru fujibakama nezuri no koromo nareshi katami ni
Both scent and hue Do I imagine seeing Among the violet asters, Of his patterned robe, So familiar, a reminder they are…
Hyōenokami 34
These poems, both Left and Right, appear to be of about the same quality, but while I am familiar with robes patterned with purple gromwell, I do wonder what it is that is patterning the robes here. Is the poet composing on asters imagining them to be gromwell? Even if that’s the case, the conception is not particularly apparent, so I have to say that the Left is better.
mushi no ne wa mada oru to shimo kikoenu o karanishiki ni mo miyuru mono kana
The insects’ songs Yet weave and even though I hear them not As Cathay brocade Does all appear!
15a
むしのねはまだおるとしもきこえぬをからにしきにもみゆるのべかな
mushi no ne wa mada oru to shimo kikoenu o karanishiki ni mo miyuru nobe kana
The insects’ songs Yet weave and even though I hear them not As Cathay brocade Do the meadows appear!
15b
Right
きる人をのべやしるらんふぢばかまいたづらにのみつゆのおきつつ
kiru hito o nobe ya shiruran fujibakama itazura ni nomi tsuyu no okitsutsu
Folk wearing them Do the meadows know, perhaps? For upon these violet trousers In mischief alone Does the dew keep falling!
16
Rani is a generic term for ‘orchid’ but in waka it was usually equated with eupatorium (a type of aster), which was also called fujibakama, the literal meaning of which was ‘wisteria [coloured] trousers’.
shigure ni wa suga no ogasa mo mizu morite ochi no tabibito nure ya shinuran
In such a shower A little hat of woven sedge, too, Drips with water; A distant traveller Is drenched, no doubt…
Lady Kazusa 9
Right (M – Win)
霜さえて枯行くをのの岡べなるならの朽葉にしぐれ降るなり
shimo saete kareyuku ono no okabe naru nara no kuchiba ni shigure furu nari
Chill the frost upon The sere meadows on The hillside where Upon the withered oak leaves A shower is falling.
Lord Mototoshi 10
Toshiyori states: In the first poem, ‘drips with water’ is vague. In the second poem, ‘hillside where’ lacks smoothness. What are we to make of ‘withered oak leaves’? If leaves have withered away, then they wouldn’t make any sound, would they. Is this even possible?
Mototoshi states: the diction of ‘In such a shower / A little umbrella of woven sedge, too, / Drips with water’ is something which lacks any prior precedent. ‘Dripping with water’ give the impression of a painted pot with a crack in it, so what kind of shower can this be? It would be more normal to refer to having to shelter beneath one’s sleeves. While it is lacking in any superlative features, I feel that the sound of a shower on withered oak leaves is somewhat more commonplace.
michi no be no ono no yūgiri tachikaeri mite koso yukame akihagi no hana
By the roadside Across the meadows evening mists Rise and fall endlessly; Thus would I go and see The autumn bush clover blooms.[1]
[1] An allusive variation on: For a poetry competition held in the Tenryaku era. 春ふかみゐてのかは浪たちかへり見てこそゆかめ山吹の花 haru fukami / ide no kawanami / tachikaeri / mite koso yukame / yamabuki no hana ‘In the depths of spring / Waves on the river at Idé / Rise and fall endlessly; / Thus would I go and see / The kerria blooms…’ Minamoto no Shitagō (SIS I: 68).
