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.
kage kiyoku tsuki yokogiru ukigumo wa aki no na sae kegashitsuru kana
The pure light of The moon crossing go The drifting clouds— The very name of autumn Have they besmirched!
Arifusa 65
Right (Win)
照る月を浪のうへにてみる時ぞますみのかがみいる心ちする
teru tsuki o nami no ue nite miru toki zo masumi no kagami iru kokochisuru
The shining moon Rests atop the waves, and When I gaze upon it, Within the clearest of mirrors Does it lie, I feel.
Narinaka
66
What to make of the sound of the Left’s ‘besmirched the very name of autumn’? The Right does not seem to differ markedly from the conception of ‘Hundredfold Polished Mirror’[1] where it says that the moon ‘atop the waves’ is ‘all apiece with the autumn waters’ deeps’, does it. The Right should win.
[1] This is a reference to a poem by Bai Juyi, Bailianjing 百練鏡, contained in the Collected Works of Master Bai (Hakushi monjū 白氏文集), about a mirror which had been polished a hundred times. Kiyosuke quotes from the poem in his judgement, referring to the following passage: 江心波上舟中鋳 五月五日日午時 瓊粉金膏磨瑩已 化為一片秋潭水 jiangxinbo shang zhou zhong zhu / wu yue wu ri ri wushi / qiong fen jin gao mo ying yi / hua wei yipian qiu tan shui ‘In a boat atop the waves at the heart of the Yangtse / At noon on the 5th day of the Fifth Month / Polished with gemmed powdered seashells in golden oil / ‘Tis transformed and becomes all apiece with the autumn waters’ deeps.’
kaze samumi ise no hama ogi wakeyukeba koromo kari ga ne nami ni naku nari
The wind’s so chill, as Through the silver grass upon the beach at Ise I forge my way, that I’d borrow a robe with goose cries Sounding ‘cross the waves!
[1]Goshūishū XVI: 906: Around the time the Naka Chancellor had begun visiting her, on the morning following a night when he had failed to call, she composed this to say that this night’s dawn had been particularly hard to bear.
[2] This poem does not appear in any other collection in the canon.
