Round Thirty-Eight
Left
今更にふしもさだめぬ鹿の音よ木葉の数のつもるよごとに
| ima sara ni fushi mo sadamenu shika no ne yo ko no ha no kazu no tsumoru goto ni | At around this time, With his bedding undecided, The stag bells out! Just as the leaves’ from on the trees numbers Do mount up… |
Shō
75
Right (Win)
木葉ちる夜半の嵐の月影に心すみてや鹿も鳴くらん
| ko no ha chiru yowa no arashi no tsukikage ni kokoro sumite ya shika mo nakuran | Leaves scatter from the trees In the midnight storm In the moonlight From his wild and earthy thoughts Does the stag, too, cry out? |
Nagatsuna
76
The Left’s ‘just as the leaves from on the trees numbers do mount up’ at night and so forth, appears to be a novel style, yet the Right poem sounds more gorgeous, so it wins.
Around the Ninth Month, when I had gone to stay at the palace for a certain reason, and I heard someone’s voice from the adjoining chamber, wrote this on the edge of my mat and had it left there.
うきよには嵐の風にさそはれてこしやまがはに袖もぬらしつ
| ukiyo ni wa arashi no kaze ni sasowarete koshiyamagawa ni sode mo nurashitsu | In this world of sorrows The storming wind Has invited me, and Koshi Mountain’s torrents Have soaked my sleeves. |
Round Five
Left (Win)
きく人の袖もぬれけり秋ののの露分けて鳴くさをしかのこゑ
| kiku hito no sode mo nurekeri aki no no no tsuyu wakete naku saoshika no koe | Folk who hear him Have dampened sleeves, too— Across the autumn meadows As he forges through the dewdrops The stag’s bell. |
Lord Kinshige
33
Right
鹿の音の吹きくるかたにきこゆるはあらしやおのがたちどなるらん
| shika no ne no fukikuru kata ni kikoyuru wa arashi ya ono ga tachidonaruran | The stag’s bell Comes, blown, I do hear— Has the storm, himself, Arisen there, I wonder? |
Lord Kiyosuke
34
I do wonder about the Left, which implies that one would soak one’s sleeves with tears on hearing a stag belling, given that I am unable to bring to mind any prior poems composed in this vein. What are we to make of the fact that, while the poem by Toshiyori, which I mentioned earlier, was composed about tears, there is still no trace of this usage in any other poetry match? It does seem poetic overall, though. The Right’s ‘Has the storm, himself, arisen’ is remarkably startling, so it’s a personal poem. While it’s not the case that there are no prior compositions in this manner, poems for poetry matches have a certain way about them and that’s simply how it is. Thus, the Left wins.
Composed on drizzle, for a notebook match held at the residence of Fujiwara no Chikako, Junior Second Rank.
しぐれつつかつちるやまのもみぢ葉をいかにふくよのあらしなるらん
| siguretutu katu tiru yama no momidiba wo ika ni fuku yo no arashi naruran | Constant drizzle falls All over the mountain’s scattered Scarlet leaves, so It may as well blow through the world: The storming wind! |
Master of the Palace Repairs Office Akisue
