obotsukana izure urago no yama naran mina kurenai ni miyuru momijiba
How strange it is— Where is Urago Mountain, I wonder? When all the same scarlet Seem the autumn leaves…
Kiyosuke 93
Right (Win)
大ゐ河きしのもみぢのちるをりは浪にたたするにしきとぞみる
ōigawa kishi no momiji no chiru ori wa nami ni tatasuru nishiki to zo miru
At the River Ōi, When the scarlet leaves upon the bank Come to fall, Cut out by the waves, Does their brocade appear!
Mikawa 94
When I listen to the Left I wonder what on earth it’s actually about—the end seems redolent of love. The Right doesn’t seem to have any particular faults, so it should win.
sakurabana yukitourumeri mikasayama iza tachiyoramu nani kakuru ya to
The cherry blossom Seems to pass as falling snow On Mikasa Mountain— Say, let’s shelter ‘neath umbrellas there, Whether they’ll conceal us or not…[1]
Mitsune 28
Left (Tie)
やまのなにたちしもよらじさくらばなゆきとふるともいろにぬれめや
yama no na ni tachishi mo yoraji sakurabana yukitouru to mo iro ni nureme ya
Based on the mountain’s name, I would take no shelter from The cherry blossoms, for Even should they pass as falling snow Would their hues wet my sleeves?
29
Right
かくるれどやまずゆきこそふりかかれみかさのやまははなやもるらん
kakururedo yamazu yuki koso furikakare mikasa no yama wa hana ya moruran
I have concealed myself, yet Incessantly those snows Do fall; From Mikasa Mountain, will The blossom drip, I wonder?
30
[1] This poem occurs in Mitsune-shū (328) with the same headnote as that for poem 22 (above). This is a somewhat facetious poem in that Mitsune is punning on the name of the mountain, Mikasa, which could be read to mean ‘honoured umbrella’. Both of the ladies composing this round pick up on his wordplay, with the author of (29) saying that there’s no need to take shelter as blossom will not leave a stain, as snow would, and the author of (30) wondering rhetorically if the blossom would drip from an umbrella as melting snow would.
Around the Ninth Month, when I had gone to stay at the palace for a certain reason, and I heard someone’s voice from the adjoining chamber, wrote this on the edge of my mat and had it left there.
うきよには嵐の風にさそはれてこしやまがはに袖もぬらしつ
ukiyo ni wa arashi no kaze ni sasowarete koshiyamagawa ni sode mo nurashitsu
In this world of sorrows The storming wind Has invited me, and Koshi Mountain’s torrents Have soaked my sleeves.
kimi shi nao kaku shi kayowaba isonokami furuki miyako mo furiji to zo omou
O, my Lady, Should you thus ever visit Isonokami, where at Furu, the ancient capital, too, Never stales, I feel![1]
Mitsune 22
Left (Win)
かよふともしられじものをふるさとはかすがのやまのふもとならねば
kayou tomo shirareji mono o furusato wa kasuga no yama no fumoto naraneba
To ever visit there is something Folk might not know, for The ancient capital Among Kasuga Mountain’s Foothills does not lie…
23
Right
はるごとにきてはみるともいそのかみふりにしさとのなにはかはらじ
haru goto ni kite wa miru tomo isonokami furinishi sato no nani wa kawaraji
Every single spring I come to gaze, yet At Isonokami, Furu’s ancient capital Does nothing ever change?
24
[1] A variant of this poem occurs in Mitsune’s personal collection: When the Priestly Emperor’s Rokujō Lady of the Bedchamber visited Kasuga, I met and conversed with Lord Tadafusa, the Governor of Yamato, and he mentioned that he had been asked to compose eight quality poems in the name of his province, so I sent him two of my own. The date was the 7th day of the Third Month, Engi 21 [17.4.921]. きくになほかくしかよはばいそのかみふるきみやこもふりしとぞおもふ kiku ni nao / kaku shi kayowaba / isonokami / furuki Miyako mo / furishi to zo omou ‘O, I hear that / Should you ever thus visit / Isonokami, where at / Furu, the ancient capital, too, / Has grown old, I feel.’(Mitsune-shū 323)
