Kindling 薪
折りくぶる柴さまざまにみゆれどもけぶりはひとつ色にこそたて
orikuburu shiba samazama ni miyuredomo keburi wa hitotsu iro ni koso tate | Broken for kindling, The brushwood in many shapes Does appear, yet The smoke in but one Shade does rise. |
Kanemasa
Kindling 薪
折りくぶる柴さまざまにみゆれどもけぶりはひとつ色にこそたて
orikuburu shiba samazama ni miyuredomo keburi wa hitotsu iro ni koso tate | Broken for kindling, The brushwood in many shapes Does appear, yet The smoke in but one Shade does rise. |
Kanemasa
橡の衣の色はかはらねど一重になればめづらしき哉
turubami no koromo no iro Fa kaFarenedo FitoFe ni nareba medurasiki kana |
An oak-dyed Robe’s shade Does never change, yet When but a single layer has it become, How rare it is, indeed! |
Minamoto no Akinaka
源顕仲
When the Go-nijō Regent [Fujiwara no Moromichi] was angry about some problematic circumstances, Nakamasa was at his residence, and did not present this to him directly, but said to the ladies in waiting.
三笠山さすがに蔭に隱ろへてふるかひもなきあめの下哉
mikasayama sasuga ni kage ni kakuroFete Furu kaFi mo naki ame no sita kana |
On Mount Mikasa Indeed, by the shade I am concealed, yet Continuing on seems pointless Under such a rain. |
Minamoto no Nakamasa
源仲正
Left.
打ち寄する浪より秋の龍田川さても忘れぬ柳陰かな
uchiyosuru nami yori aki no tatsutagawa satemo wasurenu yanagikage kana |
Approaching on The waves, comes autumn to The Tatsuta River; And yet, I cannot forget The willows’ shade. |
311
Right.
秋淺き日影に夏は殘れども暮るゝ籬は荻の上風
aki asaki hikage ni natsu wa nokoredomo kururu magaki wa ogi no uwakaze |
Faintly autumnal is The sunlight, with summer Yet remaining; At evening by the rough-woven fence Blows a breeze o’er the silver-grass. |
312
The Right say the Left’s poem is ‘particularly good.’ The Left state that, ‘“Faintly autumnl” (aki asaki) grates on the ear, and we also cannot grasp the use of “evening by the rough-woven fence” (kururu magaki).’
Shunzei states, ‘The Left’s “approaching on the waves” (nami yori aki no), seems particularly charming, but when taken together with “willows’ shade” (yanagi kade)– the Tatsuta River has long been the subject of composition on “flowing scarlet autumn leaves”, and even now this gives a slightly poetic effect; “willows’ shade” has been used in composition, both in ancient times and more recently, but does it not seem commonplace now? The Right’s poem is in the same vein as that of the Right in Round One Hundred and Fifty-Two, yet I do not find “faintly autumnal” to be unpleasant. “Evening by the rough-woven fence”, too, has charm. The Left’s poem has vocabulary in accordance with the contents; the Right unusual expressions. In this combination, the round must tie.’
Left.
秋來ても猶夕風を松が根に夏を忘れし陰ぞたち憂き
aki kitemo nao yū kaze wo matsu ga ne ni natsu o wasureshi kage zo tachi uki |
Though the autumn has come, Still, for an evening breeze, Must I abide beneath the pines, As did I to forget the summer, Loath to leave the shade… |
309
Right.
夏衣まだ脱ぎやらぬ夕暮は袖に待たるゝ萩の上風
natsukoromo mada nugiyaranu yūgure wa sode ni mataruru hagi no uwakaze |
My summer garb Have I not yet put away; In the evening My sleeves await A breeze over the bush-clover. |
310
Neither team can find any fault with the other’s poem.
Shunzei, however, says, ‘With regard to the Right’s poem, one marks the change of clothing at the end of spring into summer, and the passage from autumn and the entrance to winter. Does one say that now it is autumn, one changes from summer clothes? The Left’s ‘beneath the pines’ must win, must it not?’
Left.
影ひたす水さへ色ぞみどりなるよもの木ずゑのおなじ若葉に
kage hitasu mizu sae iro zo midorinaru yomo no kozue no onaji wakaba ni |
Steeped in shade Even the water’s hue Has turned to green: All around, the treetops Loft the same new leaves… |
187
Right (Win).
をしなべて緑に見ゆる音羽山いづれか花のこずゑなりけむ
oshinabete midori ni miyuru otowayama izure ka hana no kozue narikemu |
All has Turned to green on Otowa mountain; Which were the blossomed Treetops, I wonder? |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
188
The Right state, ‘The use of “steeped” (hitasu) is not at all laudable,’ to which the Left reply that it is ‘in the spirit of “shade-steeped southern mountain”’, referring to a line in a famous xinyuefu (新楽府; ‘new ballad’ – a Chinese poetic form), ‘Kunming Spring’ (昆明春). They then continue, ‘Why the particular reference to Otowa Mountain? In addition, doesn’t the poem seem redolent of a reversal of Lord [Minamoto no] Yorimasa’s “the cherries do appear in bloom” (sakura wa hana ni arawarenikeri)?’ The Right, rather tersely reply, ‘Such things are only to be expected.’
Shunzei acknowledges the Chinese model for the Left’s poem: ‘ “Shade-steeped southern mountain” appears in the Baishiwenji, yet in this poem it appears to give an inappropriate emphasis [on the water rather than the trees]. In the Right’s poem, Otowa Mountain could certainly be any mountain. As for the reference to Lord Yorimasa’s poem – this type of technique is becoming increasingly common nowadays. The Right should win.’
Left (Tie)
みな人の春の心のかよひ來てなれぬる野邊の花の陰哉
mina hito no haru no kokoro no kayoikite narenuru nobe no hana no kage kana |
Everyone who Loves the springtime Come to These familiar fields and rest ‘Neath the blossoms’ shade! |
71
Right (Tie)
思ふどちそこともいはず行暮ぬ花の宿かせ野邊の鶯
omoudochi soko tomo iwazu yukikurenu hana no yado kase nobe no uguisu |
My friends, Heedless of our place Has darkness fallen: Lend us your lodging ‘mongst the blooms, O, warbler, in the fields! |
72
Neither side has any comments to make about these two poems.
Shunzei says both poems possess a ‘scintillating beauty’, but wonders whether the Right’s hasn’t borrowed too heavily from the Monk Sosei’s poem:
Composed as a Spring Poem
おもふどち春の山邊に打群れてそこともいはぬ旅寢してしか
omoFudoti Faru no yamabe ni utimurete soko tomo iFanu tabine sitesika |
My friends, In springtime in the mountain meadows Did we gather, Heedless of our place, Wanted we to sleep out on our trip! |
KKS II: 126
However, using the variation to borrow lodging from a warbler is, indeed, ‘scintillating’ and neither poems ‘sounds the least bit old-fashioned’. Hence, the round must be a tie.