Tag Archives: obune

Chūgū nyōbō uta’awase 1

難波潟漕げど小舟は葦わかのえざるほどこそ久しかりけり

naniwagata
kogedo obune wa
ashiwaka no
ezaru hodo koso
hisashikarikeri
Through Naniwa Inlet
I row, yet my little boat
The reed shoots
Cannot navigate—the time
Lasts forever![i]

1[ii]


[i] This poem is an acrostic containing the hidden expression kanoesaru 庚申 (‘senior metal monkey’), which was the fifty-seventh in the Sinitic calendrical cycle. The Sino-Japanese reading of 庚申 is kōshin, and it was every sixty days when kanoesaru came up that kōshin was observed by Heian aristocrats (and others). Motozane cleverly works the reference into his poem, with the final line referring to how the time dragged when one had to stay up all night.

[ii] Motozane-shū (60) with the additional headnote (topic), ‘Kōshin’.

Kinkai wakashū 572

Boats

世中はつねにもがもななぎさこぐあまの小船のつなでかなしも

yo no naka wa
tsune ni mogamo na
nagisa kogu
ama no obune no
tsunade kanashi mo
This mundane world,
I would be ever so!
Rowing through the calm,
A fisher’s tiny boat’s
Hawsers move me most! [i]

572


[i] See: A poem from Michinoku. みちのくはいづくはあれどしほがまの浦こぐ舟のつなでかなしも michinoku wa / izuku wa aredo / shiogama no / ura kogu fune no / tsunade kanashi mo ‘O, Michinoku, / This may be true elsewhere, too, but / At Shiogama / Bay, a rowing boat’s / Hawsers move me most!’ Anonymous (Kokinshū XX: 1088)

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 04

Round Four

Left (M – Win)

水鳥の青葉の山やいかならん梢をそむる今朝のしぐれに

mizutori no
aoba no yama ya
ika naran
kozue o somuru
kesa no shigure ni
Waterfowl fly above
Aoba Mountain—
O, what is to become
Of the treetops dyed
By this morning’s shower?

Lord Akinaka
7

Right (T – Win)

かきくもり蜑の小ぶねにふく苫の下とほるまで時雨れしにけり

kakikumori
ama no obune ni
fuku toma no
shita tōru made
shigureshinikeri
Clouds rake in above
The fisher’s tiny boat—
Through its rush-woven roof
And even beneath
A shower has fallen.

Lord Michitsune
8

Toshiyori states: Continuing on from ‘Waterfowl fly above / Aoba Mountain’ with ‘the treetops dyed’ is simple and straightforward. The latter poem’s emphasis on the fisher’s tiny boat is an unexpected expression, yet because it is not a fault, I make this poem the winner.

Mototoshi states: saying ‘Waterfowl fly above / Aoba Mountain’ is extremely hackneyed, yet the poem of the Right has ‘Clouds rake in above / The fisher’s tiny boat— / Through its rush-woven roof’: both spring showers and summer ones, too, are not things which fall constantly, so it is difficult to believe that they could fall ‘even beneath’. So, I have to determine that a shower dyeing the treetops is a little better.

Horikawa-in enjo awase 6

A further poem, from the same gentleman.

つらさには思ひ絶えなんとおもへどもかなはぬ物はなみだなりけり

tsurasa ni wa
omoi’oenan to
omoedomo
kanawanu mono wa
namida narikeri
Your cruelty
You might wish to cease,
I thought, yet
Entirely matchless are
My tears.

The Consultant
11

In reply.

うけひかぬあまの小船のつなで縄たゆとて何か苦しかるらん

ukehikanu
ama no obune no
tsunade nawa
tayu tote nanika
kurushikaruran
You’ll not draw in
A fisher-girl’s skiff with
A rope that’s
Snapped, I think, and what
Might be painful about that?

Higo, from the Palace
12