Tag Archives: mountain

Eien narabō uta’awase 31

Round Three

Left[i]

君が代は神にぞいのる住之江の松の千年をゆづれとおもへば

kimi ga yo wa
kami ni zo inoru
suminoe no
matsu no chitose o
yuzure to omoeba
My Lord’s reign:
To the gods I pray, that
Suminoe’s
Pines their thousand years
Pass on—that is my hope…

Retired from the World
61a

きみがへむやちよのかずはあめにますとよをかひめの神やしるらん

kimi ga hemu
yachiyo no kazu wa
ame ni masu
toyo’okahime no
kami ya shiruran
That my Lord will endure
The number of eight thousand ages—
Residing in the heavens,
The Goddess of the Eternal Hills,
The deity, knows well, no doubt!

Retired from the World
61b

Right (Win)

君がよはつきじとぞおもふ春の日の御笠の山にささむかぎりは

kimi ga yo wa
tsukiji to zo omou
haru no hi no
mikasa no yama ni
sasamu kagiri wa
My Lord’s reign
Will never fade, I feel!
While in spring the sun
Upon Mikasa Mountain
Shines down…

Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
62

Both Left and Right have neither strengths nor weakness in their diction and sense, but I feel that ‘While in spring the sun / Upon Mikasa Mountain / Shines down’ is a bit more dependable at present than ‘Suminoe’s / Pines their thousand years’.

It is certainly not the case that there are no dubious elements about the Left’s poem. As ‘eight thousand ages’ is a definite number, what is it that the Goddess of the Eternal Hills is expected to know? If this is something in the deity’s hands, then it should be, ‘does not even know the number’. I’m sure the Goddess herself would ask what she’s expected to know. The Right seems stronger.


[i] There are different poems by Eien this round in different versions of the text of the contest. As can be inferred from the judgements, Mototoshi saw the first poem and Toshiyori the second. This strongly suggests that Mototoshi’s judgements were circulated before the text of the contest was submitted to Toshiyori, and Eien revised his poem this round as a result (Kubota et al. 2018, 308).

Eien narabō uta’awase 30

Round Two

Left (Win)

君がよはあまのいはとをいづるひのいくめぐりてふかずもしられず

kimi ga yo wa
ama no iwato o
izuru hi no
iku meguri chō
kazu mo shirarezu
My Lord’s reign:
Since from the stone door in the heavens
Emerged the sun,
‘How many circuits has she made?’, they ask—
A number quite unknown.

Lord Saburō
59

Right

みかさやまふもとのさとはあめのしたふるにおもひもあらじとぞ思ふ

mikasayama
fumoto no sato wa
ame no shita
furu ni omoi mo
araji to zo omou
At Mikasa Moutain’s
Foot, in a hamlet
‘neath the heavens
Passing time—painful thoughts
There I’d have not a one, I feel!

Ushigimi
60

The Left’s poem goes beyond the general flow of diction, containing mystery and depth. I have to say it is truly superior. While the Right’s poem has no faults to mention, it has yet to emerge from prosaic expression. Thus, the Left wins.

The ‘stone door in the heavens’ is that which the supreme sun-deity Amaterasu stood before and then entered. But when we’re talking about dawn breaking at the end of night, we say ‘gates of heaven’. Which of these two was did the poet have in mind, I wonder? If he was thinking of dawn breaking, then the usage is erroneous, but even if he did mean ‘stone door of the heavens’, then do we use this about the circuits of the sun? This is vague. In addition, the final ‘they ask’ is difficult to pronounce. As for the Right’s poem, ‘‘neath the heavens’ lacks emotion. The dual use of ‘thoughts’ and ‘feels’, as I have already remarked, is not an error, but does grate on the ears a bit.

Eien narabō uta’awase 27

Round Six

Left

ふるゆきに山のほそみちうづもれてまれにとひこし人もかよはず

furu yuki ni
yama no hosomichi
uzumorete
mare ni toikoshi
hito mo kayowazu
With the falling snow
The mountain’s narrow pathways
Are buried;
But rarely did he visit and now
Cannot make his way at all.

Cell of Fragrant Cloud
53

Right

あしたつるみわのひばらにゆきふかみみやぎひくをのかよひぢもなし

ashi tatsuru
miwa no hibara ni
yuki fukami
miyagi hiku o no
kayoiji mo nashi
Reeds stand tall in
Miwa, where the cypress groves
Are deep with snow;
To cut sacred timber, the woodsman
Has no path to tread at all.

Cell of Compassionate Light
54

The Left’s poem, in terms of style and diction, entirely grasps the way someone might feel. What a sense of grief! The Right’s poem is composition that fairly drips and delves into playfulness, but in so doing lacks feeling. Truly, the former poem has superlative qualities, resembling a black dragon’s pearl![i] Thus, the Left must win.

The Left does seem to have been composed but simply stated. It possesses a calm elegance. The Right seems to have been created after a great deal of thought. This poem shows effort and the former such calm that I wish to declare them a tie. This may enrage the poets, but the ignorant may give the appearance of being knowledgeable, as they say. I wonder who composed these…


[i] Riju 驪珠 as an abbreviation of riryū no tama 驪龍の珠 (‘black dragon’s pearl’). Mototoshi uses this analogy deliberately as black dragons were associated with winter. The pearl, which they were often depicted as holding or being located in their throat, was a symbol of the dragon’s spiritual development and a marker of its immortality. This is thus an effusive statement of praise for Shōchō’s poem.

Eien narabō uta’awase 26

Round Five

Left (Tie)

うちきらしあまぎるそらと見しほどにやがてつもれる雪の白山

uchikirashi
amagiru sora to
mishi hodo ni
yagate tsumoreru
yuki no shirayama
Suddenly concealed
By mist, the skies
I glimpsed and
In a moment drifted
Snow covered Shira Mountain with white.

Controller’s Graduate
51

Right

としをへてふし見の山にふるゆきはとこめづらにもおもしろきかな

toshi o hete
fushimi no yama ni
furu yuki wa
tokomezura ni mo
omoshiroki kana
Through all the passing years
Upon Fushimi Mountain
The falling snow
Feels ever fresh
And full of charm!

Kerin’in Graduate

52

The poem of the Left’s ‘Suddenly concealed / By mist, the skies’ is a clear case of repeating the same meaning. In addition, ‘snow covered Shira Mountain’ is one which is snow-capped regardless of whether it’s summer or winter. It’s not a mountain where one would be startled at seeing it ‘suddenly concealed’. The poem of the Right says that ‘through all the passing years the estate at Fushimi…feels ever fresh’, which seems as if this poem is specifying a period when this applies. It’s certainly a bit of a reach to say that this would be charming, but it’s not incongruous. Thus, I make this a tie.

I am unable to grasp the sense of the Left poem’s ‘suddenly concealed’. If it had been ‘concealed with falling’ then that would be better. In addition, I don’t understand the final ‘snow covered Shira Mountain’ either. I would have preferred it if the order had been ‘Shira Mountain’s snow’, but putting the ‘snow’ first seems to lack fluency and so, regretfully I would change this.

The Right’s ‘Fushimi Mountain’ is difficult to understand. It seems that ‘estate’ is a more standard composition, and ‘mountain’ is a novel usage. Having ‘Fushimi’ ‘feel fresh’ is evidence of thought, but even so, ‘mountain’ is vague.

Eien narabō uta’awase 22

Snow

Round One

Left (Win)

たまのきにははそのもりもなりにけりふるしらゆきのきえぬかぎりは

tama no ki ni
hahaso no mori mo
narinikeri
furu shirayuki no
kienu kagiri wa
Into trees of gems has
The oak forest
Turned
While the falling snow
Does not fade away…

Lord Dainagon
43[i]

Right

ゆきふればあをばの山も見がくれてときはのきをやけさはをるらむ

yuki fureba
aoba no yama mo
migakurete
tokiwa no ki o ya
kesa wa oruramu
Snow has fallen, so
The verdant mountain
Vanishes from sight—
Might the evergreens
Be broken the morning?

Lord Chūnagon
44[ii]

The poem of the Left is entirely lacking in any interest. Isn’t this a sage’s jewelled tree? It really leaves me grief-stricken. The poem of the Right contains two faults in a single work. First, this is not the right time of year to be referring to a ‘verdant mountain’. Second, ‘vanishes from sight’ refers to disappearing in water. In the Collection of a Myriad Leaves ‘vanishing from sight’ is written as ‘hidden in the water’. Thus we have lines such as, ‘swarming frogs hiding in the weeds beneath the waves’. There are no prior poems mentioning ‘mountains vanishing from sight’ in either ancient or modern times.

On the matter of the ‘tree of gems’, I heard a long time ago that this might have appeared in an important source, but as this is something I know little about, even if this is a fault, it’s difficult for me to say anything about it. Well, in any case, it doesn’t sound bad. Would someone who knows all about this compose poorly? The Right’s poem lacks elegance, but it doesn’t sound like it has any other faults. It’s inferior to the Left only in ornamentation.


[i] Some sources identify Mototoshi as the composer of this poem.

[ii] This poem is included in Toshiyori’s personal collection, Sanboku kikashū (670), with the headnote, ‘Composed in place of someone for a poetry match in Nara’,

Eien narabō uta’awase 17

Round Three

Left (Win)

いかにしてあきはひかりのまさるらんおなじみかさの山のはの月

ika ni shite
aki wa hikari no
masaruran
onaji mikasa no
yama no ha no tsuki
Why is it that
In autumn your light
Should be best of all?
Though always upon Mikasa
Mountain’s edge you rest, O moon…

Retired from the world
33

Right

秋のよはくもるといへどこと月のさやけきよりもさやけかりけり

aki no yo wa
kumoru to iedomo
koto tsuki no
sayakeki yori mo
sayakarikeri
On an autumn night
Cloudy it may be, yet
Compared to another moon’s
Brightness, ‘tis still
More bright.

Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
34

Both the configuration and diction of the Left’s poem seem comprehensible. The poem of the Right’s use of ‘moon’ is dubious and blameworthy. Thus, the Left wins.

The poem of the Left doesn’t sound bad. I feel it has a well-trodden ending for a poem and it reminds me of the old line ‘what is this light’[1]—it’s extremely charming. In the Right’s poem, I wonder if ‘another moon’ might be referring to the calendar month, but listening to it, it really does sound as if there are two moons in the sky! Furthermore, the poem lacks fluency and is further case of a hasty retreat from the topic, isn’t it.  It’s an excess of technique to say that the autumn moon is not inferior to any other, even if it’s covered with cloud.


[1] Composed for the Palace Poetry Match held on the 10th day of the Eighth Month, Kanna 1. いつもみる月ぞとおもへどあきのよはいかなるかげをそふるなるらん itsumo miru / tsuki zo to omoedo / aki no yo wa / ika naru kage o / sourunaruran ‘Always, do I see / The moon, I thought, yet / On an autumn night / What is this light / That trails over all?’ Fujiwara no Nagayoshi (GSIS IV: 256)

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!