如是為而也 尚哉将老 三雪零 大荒木野之 小竹尓不有九二
kakusite ya napo ya oinuramu miyuki puru opoarakino no sino ni aranaku ni | Is this how it is to be? Have I yet grown old Though covered with fair snow On Ōaraki Plain An arrow-bamboo I am not… |
Anonymous
池の辺の小槻の下の小竹な刈りそねそれをだに君が形見に見つつ偲はむ
ike no pe no wotuki no sita no sino na kari so ne sore wo dani kimi ga katami ni mitutu sinopamu |
Beside the pond, Beneath the young zelkova tree, Reap not the arrow bamboo! For that, alone, Is my keepsake of you, and I would gaze on it and remember what is gone… |
Hitomaro kashū
人麻呂歌集
Composed on the conception of thinking about flowers in the meadows.
今はしも穂に出でぬらむ東路の石田の小野の篠の小薄
ima wa simo Fo ni idenuramu adumadi no iFata no wono no sino no wosusuki |
Now it is that Their fronds seem to appear: On the eastern roads, Through Iwata meadows, Fresh silver-grass among the arrow bamboo. |
Fujiwara no Kore’ie
藤原伊家
Composed during the Engi Period for a folding screen, on the spirit of sacred music in the summer:
川社しのにおりはへ乾す衣いかに乾せばか七日干ざらん
kawa yashiro shino ni orihae hosu koromo ikani hoseba ka nanoka hizaran |
At a river shrine Stems of bamboo wave freely The clothes I’d dry How should I do so? Seven days still damp… |
Ki no Tsurayuki
Left.
さびしさの始とぞ見る朝まだきはだれ霜降る小野の篠原
sabishisa no hajime to zo miru asa madaki hadarejimo furu ono no shinohara |
The loneliness Has begun, I feel, Early in the morning, with The dusting frost On the arrow bamboo groves… |
549
Right (Win).
朝戸明けて都の辰巳眺むれば雪の梢や深草の里
asado akete miyako no tatsumi nagamureba yuki no kozue ya fukakusa no sato |
Opening my door one morning, and South-east of the capital Turning my gaze, The snow-laden treetops recall The depths of the estate at Fukakusa. |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
550
Both teams say the other’s poem ‘isn’t bad’ [ashikaranu].
Shunzei’s judgement: Although I feel that this topic of ‘Winter Mornings’ should express the conception of the latter half of winter [fuyu no nakaba sugitaru kokoro], the Left’s poem sounds like one from the beginning of winter, and I wonder about that. ‘South-east of the capital’ (miyako no tatsumi) is taken from the poem by Kisen on Mt Uji, which states ‘South east of the Capital, and so I dwell’ (miyako no tatsumi sika zo sumu). This conception [kokoro] of being there and ‘gazing south-east of the capital’ (miyako no tatsumi nagamureba) to the Fukakusa Estate, is charming [okashiku haberu]. Snow on the treetops in the morning, too, sounds pleasant [yoroshiku kikoyu]. Thus, the Right should win.
Left.
初霜や秋をこめても置きつらん今朝色變る野路の篠原
hatsujimo ya aki o kometemo okitsuran kesa iro kawaru noji no shinohara |
Have the first frosts In the midst of autumn Fallen? This morning has brought a change of hue To the arrow-bamboo groves in Noji! |
465
Right (Win).
いかに又秋は夕と眺め來て花に霜置く野邊の明ぼの
ika ni mata aki wa yūbe to nagamekite hana ni shimo oku nobe no akebono |
How much more striking Than an autumn evening Spent gazing, is The frost fallen on the flowers In the fields at dawn! |
466
Neither team finds any fault with the other’s poem this round and say as much.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘frost’ (shimo) on the ‘arrow-bamboo groves in Noji’ (noji no shinohara) is certainly elegant [yū ni wa haberubeshi]. The Right’s ‘frost fallen on the flowers’ (hana ni oku shimo) is, too; although there is no difference in formal quality [uta no sama wa ikuhodo sabetsu naku] between them, ‘frost fallen on the flowers’ at ‘dawn’ (akebono) is more arresting [midokoro ya haberu] than ‘arrow-bamboo groves’.
Left.
昨日まで蓬に閉ぢし柴の戸も野分に晴るゝ岡の邊の里
kinō made yomogi ni tojishi shiba no to mo nowaki ni haruru oka no be no sato |
Until yesterday Sealed by mugwort was This brushwood door; Swept clear by the gale The hills around my dwelling. |
357
Right.
假にさす庵までこそ靡きけれ野分に堪へぬ小野の篠原
kari ni sasu iori made koso nabikikere nowaki ni taenu ono no shinohara |
Roughly thatched, Even my hut Has blown away: Unable to endure the gales Amongst the arrow bamboo groves… |
358
Both teams say they can appreciate the sentiment of the opposing team’s poem.
Shunzei agrees: ‘Both the Left’s “hills around my dwelling” (oka no be no sato) and the Right’s “arrow bamboo groves” (ono no shinohara) are charming. “Sealed by mugwort was this brushwood door; swept clear by the gale” (yomogi ni tojishi shiba no to mo nowaki ni haruru) and “Even my hut has blown away: unable to endure the gales” (iori made koso nabikikere nowaki ni taenu) have no failings in form between them. Thus, the round ties.’