Written down on a pieice of folded paper when the snow was falling, around when he was deciding to become a monk.
世の中にふるぞはかなき白雪のかつはきえぬる物としるしる
| yo no naka ni Furu zo Fakanaki sirayuki no katu Fa kienu mono to sirusiru | Through this mundane world Fleetingly falling The snow, so white, Is swift to vanish— That I know only too well… |
Fujiwara no Takamitsu
Poems matched by the retainers of the Reikeiden Junior Consort, around the Third Month, Tenryaku 10.
Haze
Left (Tie)
あさひさすみねのしらゆきむらぎえてはるのかすみはたなびきにけり
| asahi sasu mine no shirayuki muragiete haru no kasumi wa tanabikinikeri | Morning sun shines upon The snow upon the peak, so white, All vanishing with The haze of spring A’trailing. |
Kanemori
1
Right
みよしのはゆきふりやまずさむけれどかすみぞはるのしるべなりける
| miyoshino wa yuki furiyamazu samukeredo kasumi zo haru no shirube narikeru | In fair Yoshino, where Never does the snow stop falling, ‘Tis cold, yet Haze of spring Is a sign. |
2
Round Seven
Left (Win)
しらゆきのふりしきぬればかづらきやくめのいはばしそことしられず
| shirayuki no furishikinureba kazuraki ya kume no iwabashi soko to shirarezu | Snow, so white Has fallen, scattering Upon Kazuraki, that The broken stone bridge of Kume Is there no one knows at all. |
Lady Kazusa
55
Right
まきもくのあなしひばらもうづもれてかかるみゆきもふればふりけり
| makimoku no anashi hibara no uzumorete kakaru miyuki mo fureba furikeri | In Makimoku Anashi’s cypress groves Are buried, Such a fair fall of snow Has there been. |
Lady Shikibu
56
The Left has neither positives nor negatives. Up to ‘the broken stone bridge of Kume’ shows some imagination. It feels overly remote. The Right’s ‘Anshi’s cypress groves’ is something I’ve not encountered in a poem before. The standard usage is ‘cypress groves of Anashi’. Compared to this, I feel the expression is more unsatisfactory. ‘Such a fair fall of snow / Has there been’ is surprising, too, and not something I’m accustomed to seeing, so the Left seems a bit better at present.
The Left does not appear to have any significant faults. ‘That’ in ‘upon Kazuraki, that’ sounds a bit distant. If you’re talking about a bridge, you should say that you can see across it, shouldn’t you. It is a bridge which it’s impossible to cross, so that’s difficult to say. The Right’s expression ‘Anashi’s cypress groves’ is pedestrian so I would have preferred it omitted. In addition, the final ‘has there been’ feels commonplace. A win for the Left, perhaps.
Round Three
Left
おぼつかないづれいづちのみちならむしをりも見えずふれるしらゆき
| obotsukana izure izuchi no michi naramu shiori mo miezu fureru shirayuki | How strange! Which is which Path, I wonder? Even the laden branches go unseen In the falling snow, so white. |
Retired from the World
47
Right
雪ふかみとなりのさともうづもれてけぶりのみこそしるしなりけれ
| yuki fukami tonari no sato mo uzumorete keburi nomi koso shirushi narikere | So deep the snow, that The estate next door Is buried; Trails of smoke are the only Sign it’s there! |
Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
48
The poem of the Left’s ‘even the laden branches go unseen’ and what follows is both poetic and a familiar usage. As for the Right’s poem, how can ‘the estate next door be buried’ unless it’s the only place that snow is falling and nowhere else? Thus, I feel that the snow falling to conceal the broken branches has more feeling to it.
The Left’s ‘which path’ gives me the impression that there are many of them. This sense of multiplicity is something I can imagine—which is a good thing—and, I think, see me using myself. ‘Laden branches’ are something which occur on peaks deep in the mountains. It might be a bit remiss of me, but I wonder whether I can imagine snow drifting so high on a mountain peak?
As for the Right’s poem, we use ‘next door’ when there’s a fence of some sort between one estate and another, don’t we? As such, saying that the smoke is the sign is rather vague. Even if there’s been a quite extraordinary snowfall, there would be something other to notice as well as the smoke, so this is an error, isn’t it. It would be acceptable to refer to smoke if the estate were further away.
Round Two
Left
ゆきふればしるしのすぎもはなさきてみわの山べもいかがたづねむ
| yuki fureba shirushi no sugi mo hana sakite miwa no yamabe mo ikaga tazunemu | When the snow has fallen, The symbolic cedars, too, Bloom with blossom— To Miwa’s mountainside How might I make my way? |
Lord Saburō
45
Right (Win)
しらゆきにふるの山みちうづもれてたどるばかりになりもゆくかな
| shirayuki ni furu no yamamichi uzumorete tadoru bakari ni nari mo yuku kana | In snow, so white, Furu’s ancient mountain paths Are buried, so Simply I must feel my way As I go along! |
Ushigimi
46
The Left’s poem is an entirely transparent adaptation of an earlier work. This poem is:
ふる雪に印の杉もうづもれていづこなるらむ三輪の山本
| furu yuki ni shirushi no sugi mo uzumorete izuko naruruamu miwa no yamamoto | In the falling snow, Even the symbolic cedars Are buried Where might be Miwa mountain’s foot?[i] |
The Right’s poem has nothing of interest about it, nor does it have any faults to indicate. Thus, there are insufficient grounds for judgement.
The Left’s poem follows the conception of a poem which appeared in the Kaya Palace Poetry Match.[ii] Although this is an earlier work, truly, it’s not that good, and so this poem doesn’t seem that superlative. Why couldn’t one visit if blossom has simply bloomed? The former poem says it would be difficult to get there because it’s buried in snow. The Right’s poem isn’t that good, but it seems better than the Left, so it should win.
[i] The source of this poem is unclear, however,
[ii] Snow. ふるゆきにすぎのあをばもうづもれてしるしも見えずみわのやまもと furu yuki ni / sugi no aoba mo / uzumorete / shirushi mo miezu / miwa no yamamoto ‘In the falling snow / The green cedar needles / Are buried, so / The symbol goes unseen, / Of Miwa mountain’s foot.’ Lady Settsu (Kaya no in shichiban uta’awase 55). This poetry match, Kaya no in shichiban uta’awase 高陽院七番歌合 (‘Seven Round Poetry Match held at the Kaya Palace’), was sponsored by Fujiwara no Morozane 藤原師実 (1042-1101) and held on the 19th day of the Eighth Month, Kahō 1 [1.10.1094]. The judge, Minamoto no Tsunenobu 源経信 (1016-1097), approved of this poem, saying it was ‘extremely charming’. It was later included in Kin’yōshū (IV: 285), with the headnote, ‘Composed on the conception of snow at the Poetry Match held at the Residence of the Former Uji Chancellor’.
Snow
Round One
Left (Win)
たまのきにははそのもりもなりにけりふるしらゆきのきえぬかぎりは
| tama no ki ni hahaso no mori mo narinikeri furu shirayuki no kienu kagiri wa | Into trees of gems has The oak forest Turned While the falling snow Does not fade away… |
Lord Dainagon
43[i]
Right
ゆきふればあをばの山も見がくれてときはのきをやけさはをるらむ
| yuki fureba aoba no yama mo migakurete tokiwa no ki o ya kesa wa oruramu | Snow has fallen, so The verdant mountain Vanishes from sight— Might the evergreens Be broken the morning? |
Lord Chūnagon
44[ii]
The poem of the Left is entirely lacking in any interest. Isn’t this a sage’s jewelled tree? It really leaves me grief-stricken. The poem of the Right contains two faults in a single work. First, this is not the right time of year to be referring to a ‘verdant mountain’. Second, ‘vanishes from sight’ refers to disappearing in water. In the Collection of a Myriad Leaves ‘vanishing from sight’ is written as ‘hidden in the water’. Thus we have lines such as, ‘swarming frogs hiding in the weeds beneath the waves’. There are no prior poems mentioning ‘mountains vanishing from sight’ in either ancient or modern times.
On the matter of the ‘tree of gems’, I heard a long time ago that this might have appeared in an important source, but as this is something I know little about, even if this is a fault, it’s difficult for me to say anything about it. Well, in any case, it doesn’t sound bad. Would someone who knows all about this compose poorly? The Right’s poem lacks elegance, but it doesn’t sound like it has any other faults. It’s inferior to the Left only in ornamentation.
[i] Some sources identify Mototoshi as the composer of this poem.
[ii] This poem is included in Toshiyori’s personal collection, Sanboku kikashū (670), with the headnote, ‘Composed in place of someone for a poetry match in Nara’,
From the Poetry Match held by Tsurayuki in the Second Month. Tengyō 2 – The Middle of Winter.
しら雪の降りつもりぬるおく山はあからがしはもうづもれにけり
| shirayuki no furitsumorinuru okuyama wa akaragashiwa uzumorenikeri | Snow, so white, Has fallen, drifted high, Deep within the mountains The scarlet-leaved oaks Are completely buried. |
Anonymous
Tsurayuki’s Poetry Match,[i] 28th day of the Second Month, Tengyō 2[ii]
The beginning of spring.
Left
白雪のみにふりながら梅の花をりつるほどに春は来にけり
| shirayuki no mi ni furinagara mume no hana oritsuru hodo ni haru wa kinikeri | Snow, so white, Falling upon my flesh, While the plum blossom, Branches are breaking Spring has come! |
1
Right
鶯の巣立ちし日よりはるばるとおもひは音にぞまづなかれける
| uguisu no sudachishi hi yori harubaru to omoi wa ne ni zo mazu nakareru | Since the day the bush warbler Departed his nest, Endlessly Have I thought his song For the present has not been here. |
2
[i] Tsurayuki uta’awase 貫之歌合
[ii] 21 March 939
