Tag Archives: samidare

Eien narabō uta’awase 10

Round Three

Left (Win)

さみだれにぬるともゆかむほととぎすふたこゑきなくさとはありやと

samidare ni
nuru to mo yukamu
hototogisu
futakoe kinaku
sato wa ari ya to
By the summer showers
We will be drenched, yet let’s away!
For the cuckoo
Has come to sing and sing again
At that estate, perchance…

Retired from the world
19

Right

さ月やみくらくはくらくほととぎすこゑはかくれぬ物にぞありける

satsuki yami
kuraku wa kuraku
hototogisu
koe wa kakurenu
mono ni zo arikeru
In the Fifth Month’s gloomy
Darkness deep,
The cuckoo
Is unable to conceal his cry
With anything at all!

Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
20

Both Left and Right are workmanlike poems with little evidence of thought. With that being said, however, the conclusion of the Right’s poem is identical to that of a famous work by the Horikawa Minister. That poem is ‘The River Sao: / Mist rises, and from beyond / Come plover cries, / Their calls uninterrupted / By anything.[1] And the Right here is, at the very least, extraordinarily redolent of it! Still, I feel the Left does linger in the heart.

The Left’s poem is not particularly remarkable, yet it has no faults worth mentioning. It doesn’t contain any distasteful expressions and resembles familiar compositions. The poem of the Right’s ‘darkness deep’ sounds like something said by a black-hearted scoundrel—I don’t feel it’s poetic diction at all! In addition, on the matter of the concluding ‘unable to conceal his cry’,[i] well, this appears in a range of earlier poems, as does ‘his cry uninterrupted’, so one should be hesitant about using it. I make the faultless Left the winner.


[1] Composed on plovers for a poetry competition in Eishō 4 [1050]. 佐保川の霧のあなたに鳴く千鳥聲は隔てぬ物にぞ有ける saogawa no / kiri no anata ni / naku chidori / koe wa hedatenu / mono ni zo arikeru ‘The River Sao: / Mist rises, and from beyond / Come plover cries, / Their calls uninterrupted / By anything.’ The Horikawa Minister of the Right [Fujiwara no Yorimune] (GSIS VI: 388)


[i] The only surviving example of this usage pre-dating this match is: Written on the edge of a folding screen by a painting of geese flying in the clouds, when His Majesty ordered a celebration for the Junior Principal Handmaid. 白雲の中にまがひてゆく雁もこゑはかくれぬ物にざりける shirakumo no / naka ni magaite / yuku kari mo / koe wa kakurenu / mono ni zarikeru ‘Within the clouds, so white, / Entangled / Goes a goose, / Unable to conceal his cry / With anything at all!’ Fujiwara no Kanesuke (Kanesuke-shū 48). There is also one further example in later poetry: Composed and sent when he heard that Inspector Kinmichi had had a number of people compose poems on the bush warbler at his residence. 春霞たちへだつれど鶯の声はかくれぬものとしらずや harugasumi / tachihedatsuredo / uguisu no / koe wa kakurenu / mono to shirazu ya ‘The haze of spring / Arising, interferes, yet / The warbler / Is unable to conceal his cry— / I wonder if he know it?’ Former Consultant Tsunemori (GYS I: 50)

Entō ōn’uta’awase 23

Round Twenty-Three

Left (Tie)

時鳥山よりをちの里人はまたでや夜半の初音きくらん

hototogisu
yama yori ochi no
satobito wa
matade ya yowa no
hatsune kikuran
O, cuckoo,
Far from the mountains,
Will villagers
Without waiting, at midnight
Ever hear your first cry?

Chikanari
45

Right

うちしめる花橘の五月雨に軒もる夜半のほととぎすかな

uchishimeru
hanatachibana no
samidare ni
noki moru yowa no
hototogisu kana
When utterly drenched is
The orange blossom by
The summer showers.
Dripping from the eaves at midnight is
A cuckoo’s call!

Ie’kiyo
46

The Right’s poem has ‘Dripping from the eaves at midnight is a  cuckoo’s call!’—this sounds like it conveys the conception, but yet is stylistically unclear. The Left’s poem takes up the conception of ‘On the leg-wearying / Mountains’ far side / Folk dwell—I wonder / Do they not have to wait for the autumn / Moon to fill their gaze?’,[1] doesn’t it? Neither has any real point worth making, so they tie.


[1] This poem is: Topic unknown. あしびきの山のあなたにすむ人はまたでや秋の月をみるらんashihiki no / yama no anata ni / sumu hito wa / matade ya aki no / tsuki o miruran Former Emperor Sanjō (SKKS IV: 382).

Entō ōn’uta’awase 22

Round Twenty-Two

Left (Win)

五月雨にやすらふ暮の時鳥そなたの雲に声なへだてそ

samidare ni
yasurau kure no
hototogisu
sonata no kumo ni
koe na hedate so
In a summer shower,
Hesitating, at twilight,
O, cuckoo,
Let not the intervening clouds
Interrupt your song!

Shō
43

Right

過ぎぬなりさやはちぎりし時鳥なく音ばかりはこぞにかはらで

suginunari
saya wa chigirishi
hototogisu
naku ne bakari wa
kozo ni kawarade
And so you’ve flown by—
Is that what you vowed,
O, cuckoo?
For only the sound of your song
Is unchanged from the year before…

Nagatsuna
44

The Left’s poem doesn’t seem bad. The Right poem’s ‘For only the sound of your song is unchanged from the year before’ is somewhat difficult to grasp—if the cuckoo’s call has not changed, then what has? After all, cuckoos have ‘the voice of yesteryear’[1]—among other references—so it’s obvious that their calls don’t change, so the Left is somewhat better, I think.


[1] KKS III: 137