Nine poems in reply by the maidens.
はしきやし翁の歌におほほしき九の子らや感けて居らむ
pasikiyasi okina no uta ni opoposiki kokono no kora ya kamakete woramu |
Well, By the old man’s poem While taking our ease Are we nine maids Entranced? |
In ancient times, there was an old man. His name was Bamboo Cutting Ancient (takatori no okina). In the Third Month, this old man climbed a hill to gaze into the distance, whereupon he suddenly came upon nine maidens brewing fresh greens. Their beauty was beyond description, with faces fairer by far than flowers. The maidens called mockingly to the old man, “Come here, old fellow! Blow on our fire!” “Oho!” said the Old Man, and slowly made his way up to them, arriving close by in due course. After a while, the Maidens said to one another, laughing, “Who called this old man here?” The Bamboo Cutting Ancient replied quickly, “Unintentionally have I encountered divinity. In my confused heart, I had no ill intent. Let me pay for the sin of approaching too closely with a poem.” This is the poem he promptly composed.
みどり子の 若子髪には たらちし 母に抱かえ ひむつきの 稚児が髪には 木綿肩衣 純裏に縫ひ着 頚つきの 童髪には 結ひはたの 袖つけ衣 着し我れを 丹よれる 子らがよちには 蜷の腸 か黒し髪を ま櫛持ち ここにかき垂れ 取り束ね 上げても巻きみ 解き乱り 童になしみ さ丹つかふ 色になつける 紫の 大綾の衣 住吉の 遠里小野の ま榛持ち にほほし衣に 高麗錦 紐に縫ひつけ 刺部重部 なみ重ね着て 打麻やし 麻績の子ら あり衣の 財の子らが 打ちし栲 延へて織る布 日さらしの 麻手作りを 信巾裳成者之寸丹取為支屋所経 稲置娘子が 妻どふと 我れにおこせし 彼方の 二綾下沓 飛ぶ鳥 明日香壮士が 長雨禁へ 縫ひし黒沓 さし履きて 庭にたたずみ 退けな立ち 禁娘子が ほの聞きて 我れにおこせし 水縹の 絹の帯を 引き帯なす 韓帯に取らせ わたつみの 殿の甍に 飛び翔ける すがるのごとき 腰細に 取り装ほひ まそ鏡 取り並め懸けて おのが顔 かへらひ見つつ 春さりて 野辺を廻れば おもしろみ 我れを思へか さ野つ鳥 来鳴き翔らふ 秋さりて 山辺を行けば なつかしと 我れを思へか 天雲も 行きたなびく かへり立ち 道を来れば うちひさす 宮女 さす竹の 舎人壮士も 忍ぶらひ かへらひ見つつ 誰が子ぞとや 思はえてある 如是所為故為 いにしへ ささきし我れや はしきやし 今日やも子らに いさにとや 思はえてある 如是所為故為 いにしへの 賢しき人も 後の世の 鑑にせむと 老人を 送りし車 持ち帰りけり 持ち帰りけり
midorigo no wagikogami ni pa taratisi papa ni mudakape pimutuki no papukogami ni pa yupukataginu pitura ni nupiki unatuki no warapagami ni pa yupata no sodetukegoromo kisi ware wo niopiyoru kora ga yoti ni pa mina no wata kagurosikami o makusi moti koko ni kakitare toritukane agetemo makimi tokimidare warapa ni nasimi sani turapu iro natukasiki murasaki no opoaya no kinu sumi no e no toposato wono no mahari moti nipoposi kinu ni koma nisiki pimo ni nupituke ***** namikasanekite utisoyasi omi no kora arikinu no takara no kora ga ututape pa pete oru nuno pizarasi no asa tedukuri wo ***** ******* ***** inaki wotome ga tumadopu to ware ni okosesi otikata no puta ayasitagutu tobu tori no asuka wotoko ga nagame imi nupisi kurogutu sasipakite nipa ni tatadume makari na tati to sapuru wotome ga ponokikite ware ni okosesi miwapada no kinu no obi wo pikiobinasu karaobi ni torase watatumi no tono no iraka ni tobikakeru sugaru no gotoki kosiboso ni toriyosopopi masokagami torinamekakete wono ga nari kaperapi mitutu paru sarite nope wo megureba omosiromi ware wo omope ka sano tu tori kinaki kakerapu aki sarite yamape wo yukeba natukasi to ware o omope ka amakumo mo yukitanabiku kaperitati miti wo kureba utipisasu miyawomina sasutake no toneri wotoko mo sinoburapi kaperapimitutu ta ga ko sotoya omowapetearu ******* inisipe sasakisi ware ya pasikiyasi kepu ya mo kora ni isanitoya omowapetearu ******* inisipe no sakasiki pito mo noti no yo no kagami ni semu to oipito o okurisii kuruma motikaperi motikaperi |
As a babe with Downy hair I was By my droop-breasted Mother cradled, and then Wrapped in swaddling, with My locks new grown; then In common mulberry garb Sewn back and front, was dressed; When to my neck hung My infant hair, In tie-dyed Garb with sleeves Was I dressed; Radiant Is your beauty: Snail-gut Pure black tresses Carefully combed Drape down; Gathered all together and Lifted up, entwined In artful disarry On either side; Ruddy-cheeked Hues do charm me, Violet Broad-patterned robes, in Sumiyoshi’s Distant villages and meadows, Dyed with alder Hues your garb; Of fine brocade Is your belt embroidered ***** Worn one atop the other; As softened hemp are, The spinner-maids, Well-dressed, Jewel maidens; Soft-beaten mulberry Makes the weft for weaving; Sun-dried Hemp, hand-made ***** ******* ***** Country maidens, Husband seeking, Have sent to me From distant lands Twin-coloured socks; A soaring bird A man from Asuka Confined by the rain Has sewn black socks; He pulls them on and Goes into the garden, ‘Don’t leave!’ cries A maiden that I faintly hear; I was sent A sky-blue Belt of silk, To fasten o’er my robe, A belt from Cathay From the Sea-King’s Palace rooftops Take flight Like wasps So slim my waist I take it, and put it on; Clear mirrors I stand before me, and My own reflection See repeated time and time again; In the springtime, I went round the meadows, Handsome Did they think me? The meadow-birds Come flying for to sing for me; In the autumn When I went to the mountains, Fondly Did they think of me? Heaven’s clouds Drifting across; On my homeward Path I found As shining sunlight A palace lady; Bamboo-straight The guards in attendance, too, Secretly Looked back on her, Who was she and wither bound We wondered. ******* It was long ago that I had fortune; And so, and so Today, are you Real or not I wonder. ******* Those who long ago Had fortune, too, For the world to come Should take as a model An old man’s Cart and Take it home! Yes, take it home! |
A envoy in a certain book.
我が命は惜しくもあらずさ丹つらふ君によりてぞ長く欲りせし
wa ga inoti wa wosiku mo arazu sani turau kimi ni yorite zo nagaku porisesi |
My life I do not regret, for My ruddy-cheeked Lord’s sake I wanted it to be long… |
Of the above poems, it is said, ‘Once there was a maiden. Her family name was Kurumamochiuji. Her husband went away and many years passed without his return. All that time, the maiden thought fondly of him, suffering, and eventually took to her bed, ill, wasted away day-by-day, and soon was close to death. Then she sent a messenger to her husband, asking him to return. After she did so, with tears streaming down her face, the maiden whispered these poems to herself, and finally died.’
A poem composed yearning for her husband.
さ丹つらふ 君がみ言と 玉梓の 使も来ねば 思ひ病む 我が身ひとつぞ ちはやぶる 神にもな負ほせ 占部据ゑ 亀もな焼きそ 恋ひしくに 痛き我が身ぞ いちしろく 身にしみ通り むらきもの 心砕けて 死なむ命 にはかになりぬ 今さらに 君か我を呼ぶ たらちねの 母のみ言か 百足らず 八十の衢に 夕占にも 占にもぞ問ふ 死ぬべき我がゆゑ
sani turaru kimi ga mikoto to tamadusa no tukapi mo koneba omopiyamu wa ga mi pitotu zo tipayaburu kami ni mo na opose urape suwe kame mo na yaki so kopisiku ni itaki a ga mi zo itisiroku mi ni simitopori murakimo no kokoro kudakete sinamu inoti nipaka ni narinu ima sara ni kimi ka wa wo yobu taratine no papa no mikoto ka momo tarazu yaso ni timata ni yupuke ni mo ura ni mo zo topu sinubeki wa ga yuwe |
Ruddy-cheeked My Lord’s words In bejewelled letters By messenger come not, so I am sick at heart, and All alone; The mighty Gods’ burden it is not; Forget your fortune-teller, and Don’t bother burning tortoise shells! For love Am I suffering In extreme Agony sunk; All my many innards With my heart are broken into pieces, and Death will end my life Soon; Now Will you call for me? O’erflowing with love Will my honoured mother, Not yet one hundred At the eighty partings of the ways In the evening Find my fortune? For I am to die… |
So, I composed in reply to her.
言とはぬ木にはありともうるはしき君が手馴れの琴にしあるべし
koto topanu ki ni pa aritomo urupasiki kimi ga tanare no koto ni siarubesi |
No speech Has a tree, yet A glorious Lord’s favourite Zither will you certainly be! |
The zither maid replied, ‘I thank you for your kind words. I am truly and humbly grateful.’ I swiftly awoke and moved by the words of the maiden in my dream, I could not remain silent, so I entrusted this zither to an official bound your way, that he might deliver it to you.
Sent by messenger on the 7th day of the Tenth Month Tenpyō 1 [645], to his Most Glorious Excellency of the Inner Palace Guards.
Poems respectfully presented by Ōtomo no Tabito, to accompany a Japanese zither made from wood taken from the top of a parasol tree growing on Yuishi in Tsushima:
I dreamed this zither transformed into a maiden who said to me, ‘I placed my roots in the care of the sacrd heights of a distant island; my trunk was dried by the peaceful light of the ninefold sun. Ever was I enveloped by the smoky haze drifting from the mountain streams, and beheld from afar the winds and the waves, finding myself between a tree and a goose. Yet, after a hundred years, I was afraid I would simply be left to rot away in a moat or a ditch somewhere, but by good fortune I met a talented craftsman, who shaped my wood into this meagre zither. My form may be coarse, and my sound grating, but I hope that I may rest, as my Lord’s zither, at his left hand.’ Then, she composed.
いかにあらむ日の時にかも声知らむ人の膝の上我が枕かむ
ika ni aramu pi no toki ni kamo kowe siramu pito no piza no pe wa ga makurakamu |
When will The day come that I shall sing With his lap For my pillow? |