Round Thirty-Six
Left
秋をおもふ涙やもろき夕月夜木葉がくれに鹿ぞ鳴くなる
aki o omou namida ya moroki yūzukuyo ko no hagakure ni shika zo nakunaru Filled with autumn feelings Do tears drip down? On a moonlit evening Hidden ‘mong the leafy trees, A stag does call.
Dōchin 71
Right (Win)
を山田に風の吹きしくいなむしろよなよな鹿のふしどなりけり
oyamada ni kaze no fukishiku inamushiro yonayona shika no fushidonarikeri Across the mountain paddies The wind blows, spreading The rice into a coverlet, where Night after night, the stag Does lay his head.
Dharma Master Nyokan 72
The Left’s poem does not appear to have any faults worth indicating, yet the Right’s poem is still more pleasant. It should win.
Winter
Left
冬くれば紅葉ふりしく神無月佐保の山辺はむべもりぬらん
fuyu kureba momiji furishiku kaminazuki saho no yamabe wa mube morinuran When the winter comes, Scarlet leaves, falling and scattering In the Godless Month, Upon the slopes of Mount Saho, Indeed, are at their finest.
19
冬ごもりかれてみゆらん梅がえは今はた花の春はにほはん
fuyugomori karete miyuran ume ga e wa ima hata hana no haru wa niowan Sealed in winter, and All withered seeming, The plum tree’s branches, Now, for sure, the blossoms’ Spring will scent.
20
冬みれば水もまかせぬ小山田にいつすき返し種をまきけん
fuyu mireba mizu mo makasenu oyamada ni itsu sukikaeshi tane o makiken ‘Tis winter, I see, so There’s no water to draw for The little mountain paddies: O, when might I till them, and Sow my seeds, I wonder?
21
Right
時雨降る宿にすまへば冬の夜に錦とみゆる木木の花かな
shigure furu yado ni sumaeba fuyu no yo ni nishiki to miyuru kigi no hana kana Showers fall Upon the house where I do dwell, so Upon a winter’s night As brocade do seem The blossoming trees!
22
ゆふだすき神の社にかけつればしもし降るにもたのもしきかな
yūdasuki kami no yashiro ni kaketsureba shimo shi furu ni mo tanomashiki kana Sacred mulberry cords Around the God’s shrine Are hung, so Even amidst the frost fall, The future does seem bright!
23
白雲のふたへふりしくときは山うらはへとしはみどりなりけれ
shiragumo no futae furishiku tokiwa yama ura hae toshi wa midori narikere Clouds of white Lie scattered, twofold, upon The unchanging mountain: Stretching out behind, the year Is simply green.
24
Left.
逢ふ事は苗代水を引き止めて通しはてぬや小山田の關
au koto wa
nawashiro mizu o
hikitomete
tōshihatenu ya
oyamada no seki
Can a meeting, like
The waters round the rice seedlings
Be stopped
In their endless flow
Past the Oyamada Barrier?
Kenshō
997
Right (Win).
衣手は清見が關にあらねども絶ゆるよもなき涙也けり
koromode wa
kiyomi ga seki ni
aranedomo
tayuru yo mo naki
namida narikeri
My sleeves as
The Barrier at Kiyomi
Are not, yet
Without cease
Are my tears…
Lord Tsune’ie .
998
The Right state: we are unfamiliar with the expression ‘Oyamada Barrier’ (oyamada no seki ). The Left state: it sounds as if it is tears that are ceaseless at the Barrier at Kiyomi.
In judgement: the Left’s poem is stylistically tasteful, but with only ‘can a meeting, like the waters round the rice seedlings’ (au koto wa nawashiro mizu ) the conception of love is weak is it not? The Right’s poem metaphorically has tears ceaseless at the Barrier at Kiyomi, and with the ta present, I accept the Left’s point to a certain extent, but this type of thing is not unusual in metaphorical poems. In addition, there is little reason to imagine the waters round the rice-seedlings being blocked. As it has a stronger focus on Love, the Right wins.
逢ふことを苗代水にまかせてはこさんこさじは小山田のせき
aFu koto wo
naFasiro midu ni
makasete Fa
kosan kosazi Fa
oyamada no seki
Our meeting
The waters round the seedlings
Does resemble:
Passing and yet not passing,
The Oyamada Barrier.
Anonymous
'Simply moving and elegant'