Tag Archives: shirushi

Eien narabō uta’awase 24

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.

Eien narabō uta’awase 23

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’.

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 21

Round Nine

Left (M – Tie)

秋くれて千草の花は残らねど独うつろふ白菊のはな

aki kurete
chigusa no hana wa
nokoranedo
hitori utsurou
shiragiku no hana
Autumn sinks to twilight, and
Of a thousand blossoms
Not one lingers, save
Alone and fading
A white chrysanthemum bloom.

Lord Shigemoto
41

Right (T – Win)

かぎりなく君が千代経むしるしにや散残るらん宿のしらぎく

kagirinaku
kimi ga chiyo hemu
shirushi ni ya
chirinokoruran
yado no shiragiku
That endless through
A thousand ages will my Lord pass
A sign there is:
Not scattering and lingering
White chrysanthemums at his house!

Lord Tadataka
42

Toshiyori states: I don’t have much to point out about the poem on ‘autumn sinking to twilight’, except that it could have had ‘indeed, linger’ in place of ‘not one lingers, yet’ to lead to ‘alone and fading’. As for the second poem, there are no other examples of saying ‘chrysanthemums scatter’, yet I do wonder about how this sounds? Nevertheless, it has a conception of Felicitation and this makes it somehow superior.

Mototoshi states: the poems of Left and Right are of the same standard in both conception and diction, so it’s not possible to tell them apart. These, too, are of the same quality.

Sumiyoshi-sha uta’awase kaō ni-nen 69

Round Nineteen

Left (Win)

やはらぐるひかりをたのむしるしにはこむよのやみをてらさざらめや

yawaraguru
hikari o tanomu
shirushi ni wa
komu yo no yami o
terasazarame ya
The God has dimmed
His light, but rely on it
As a sign, I will, that
In the darkness of the world to come
He will surely shine…

Dharma Master Yūsei
137

Right

かみにわれたのみをかけてまつなればすみよしにこそみをばやどさめ

kami ni ware
tanomi o kakete
matsu nareba
sumiyoshi ni koso
mi oba yadosame
In the God, I
Place my trust, and
Await, with the pines, so
At Sumiyoshi, surely,
Will I make my lodging!

Norimori
138

The Left’s poem does not have a particularly remarkable conception, but with that being said, while its flow appears smooth, the expression of its core sentiment is, indeed, moving. As for the poem of the Right, while ‘Place my trust, and / Await, with the pines, so’ seems charming, the elevated tone of the Left is slightly superior, I think.

Sumiyoshi-sha uta’awase kaō ni-nen 58

Round Eight

Left

よのなかをうみわたりつつとしへぬることはつもりのかみやたすけむ

yo no naka o
umiwataritsutsu
toshi henuru
koto wa tsumori no
kami ya tasukemu
In this mundane world,
An endless sea of suffering,
Have my years gone by;
Might Tsumori’s
Deity save me, I wonder?

Dharma Master Shun’e
115

Right (Win)

いへのかぜわがみのうへにすずしかれかみのしるしをあふぐとならば

ie no kaze
wa ga mi no ue ni
suzushikare
kami no shirushi o
augu to naraba
My house’s breeze of fortune
To my sorry self
I would bring cool, if
For a sign from the God
I were to seek…

Lord Sanekuni
116

The Left’s conception is charming, beginning with ‘An endless sea of suffering’ and following this with ‘Might Tsumori’s / Deity save me, I wonder?’, but ‘endless sea of suffering’ does not sound like acceptable diction. The Right’s conception of ‘For a sign from the God / I were to seek’ sounds charming, so I make it the winner.

Sane’ie-shū 301

When a lady had dropped her hair-tie, I picked it up and passed it back to her.

あさねがみもとゆひそめししるしありてとけてみゆるをこころともがな

asanegami
motoyui someshi
shirushi arite
tokete miyuru o
kokoro to mogana
That your morning bed-hair
You had started to do up
Is this a sign, but
I would see you loosen it
Together with your heart!

Fujiwara no Sane’ie (1145-1193)

Kyōgoku no miyasudokoro uta’awase 13

Original

ちりまがふかすがのやまのさくらばなひかりにきえぬゆきと見えつつ

chirimagau
kasuga no yama no
sakurabana
hikari ni kienu
yuki to mietsutsu
Tangledly scattering on
The mount of Kasuga are
The cherry blossoms—as
Not fading with the sunlight
Does this snow, it ever seems…

37

Left

さくらばななにかはきえむしろたへのいろばかりこそゆきににるらめ

sakurabana
nanika wa kienu
shirotae no
iro bakari koso
yuki ni niruramu
Cherry blossoms—
Why should they fade away?
White as mulberry cloth,
In their hue alone
Do they resemble snow, I’d say!

38

Right (Win)

やまざくらゆきにまがひてちりくれどきえぬばかりぞしるしなりける

yamazakura
yuki ni magaite
chirikuredo
kienu bakari zo
shirushi narikeru
Mountain cherry blossoms
Tangle with the snowflakes, and
Come a’scattering, yet
‘Tis only that they fade not that’s
The sign of what they are!

39

GSS XVIII: 1271

Composed when I was at a certain place and telling tales with sundry others before a lady’s curtains and heard a woman’s voice – one of her attendants, no doubt – say, ‘He seems to be strangely knowledgeable about matters of the heart for such an old man!’

あはれてふ事にしるしはなけれどもいはではえこそあらぬ物なれ

aFare teFu
koto ni sirusi Fa
nakeredomo
iFade Fa e koso
aranu mono nare
Of sensitivity
Surface signs
Are their none, yet
Saying nothing, indeed, is
What makes it plain!

Tsurayuki

Kyōgoku no miyasudokoro uta’awase 07

Original

わかなつむとしはへぬれどかすがのののもりはけふやはるをしるらむ

wakana tsumu
toshi wa henuredo
kasugano no
nomori wa kyō ya
haru o shiruramu
Plucking fresh herbs do
The years pass by, yet
On Kasuga Plain,
The wardens today
Must truly know ‘tis spring. [1]

Mitsune
19

Left (Tie)

けふ見てぞわれはしりぬるはなはなほかすがののべのものにぞありける

kyō mite zo
ware wa shirinuru
hana wa nao
kasuga no nobe no
mono ni zo arikeru
Today did I see, and
Understood it well, that
Blossom, truly,
Upon the meadows of Kasuga
Is best of all.

20

Right

ありへてもかすがののもりはるにあふはとしもわかなもつめるしるしか

arihete mo
kasuga no nomori
haru ni au wa
toshi mo wakana mo
tsumeru shirushi ka
Over passing ages,
For the wardens of Kasuga,
Encountering the springtime,
The years and the fresh herbs, both,
Have garnered as a sign, perhaps.

21


[1] A variant of this poem occurs in Shokugosenshū: In the twenty-first year of the same era, on a day when the Kyōgoku Lady of the Bedchamber visited the shrine at Kasuga, he composed this in place of the official from the province of Yamato. としごとにわかなつみつつかすが野ののもりもけふやはるをしるらん toshi goto ni / wakana tsumitsutsu / kasugano no / nomori mo kyō ya / haru o shiruran ‘Every single year / Ever plucking fresh herbs / On Kasuga Plain / The wardens, too, today / Must truly know ‘tis spring.’Mitsune (XVI: 1032/1029)