Left.
夏草の野嶋が崎の朝霧を分てぞ來つる萩の葉の摺り
natsukusa no
nojima ga saki no
asagiri o
wakete zo kitsuru
hagi no ha no suri |
Summer grass grows high
On Nojima Point;
Through the morning mists
Have I come forging,
Robes patterned with bush-clover leaves. |
Kenshō.
197
Right (Win).
茂き野と夏もなりゆく深草の里はうづらの鳴かぬばかりぞ
shigekino to
natsu mo nariyuku
fukakusa no
sato wa uzura no
nakanu bakari zo |
Ever thicker grow the grasses and
With the summer’s passing, too,
At Fukakusa – deep within the greenery –
The quails
Let out not a cry – that’s all… |
Ietaka.
198
The Right have no criticisms to make of the Left’s poem. The Left, however, say, ‘Using “summer’s passing, too” (natsu mo) appears to suggest a foundation upon something definite. What is it, however?’ The Right reply, ‘As the source poem is “A quail I shall become and cry” (udura to narite nakiworan), the impression given is of Autumn. Thus, “summer’s passing, too”.’
Shunzei judges, ‘The Left’s poem has as its final line, “Robes patterned with bush-clover leaves” (hagi no ha no suri), and before it, where one would expect to find the reason why the poet is forging across Nojima Point, is only “summer grass” (natsukusa no). This is repetitive. The Right’s poem, though, commencing with “ever thicker grasses” (shigeki no) is particularly fine in terms of configuration [sugata yoroshiki ni nitari]. Thus, it is the winner, this round.’