Love and the moon.
| kazu naranu mi wa ukigumo no yoso nagara aware to zo omou aki no yo no tsuki | Unlike all those countless Others, I, drifting with the clouds So distant, Feel so fondly for The moon this autumn night. |
523
Monthly Archives: March 2026
Kinkai wakashū 522
Kinkai wakashū 521
Kinkai wakashū 520
Kinkai wakashū 519
Eien narabō uta’awase 25
Round Four
Left
水のおももみなふるゆきにうづもれてたちゐやなげくいけのにほどり
| mizu no omo mo mina furu yuki ni uzumorete tachi’i ya nageku ike no niodori | The surface of the water Entirely by the falling snow Is buried— Do they sorrow for their diving, The grebes around the pond? |
Cell of the Fragrant Elephant
49
Right (Win)
みよしのに雪ふりぬれば我がやどのならのかれ葉はいとどさびしも
| miyoshino ni yuki furinureba wa ga yado no nara no kareba wa itodo sabishi mo | In fair Yoshino Snow has fallen, so At my house The withered oak leaves are All the more alone… |
Cell of the Everlasting Truth
50
The poem of the Left’s ‘surface of the water entirely buried by snow’ is something that I have never heard before. ‘Grieving grebes’, too, are something I have yet to encounter. Really, what sort of poem is this? As for the poem of the Right, while ‘all the more alone’ and what precedes it fails to sound elegant, at the current time I feel it’s a little bit superior.
It’s extremely difficult to conceive of the surface of a body of what which hasn’t yet frozen being buried in snow. If snow fell extremely heavily, then, surely, the water would overflow, then freeze, and then get buried, wouldn’t it? I might be going a little too far here, though. As for the Right’s poem, is ‘my house’ in Yoshino? Or is it on an estate elsewhere? If it’s on an estate, is the poet looking at the falling snow and imagining Yoshino? It’s vague. Then again, as the poem doesn’t say explicitly that the oaks are buried by the snow, is it only imagining this? How might something be which has not been seen for sure? The oaks here, too, would be like that, as snow is something which doesn’t distinguish where it falls…
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’.
Eien narabō uta’awase 22
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’,
Eien narabō uta’awase 21
Round Seven
Left
秋の夜はながゐのうらにとまりしてのどかにてらすありあけの月
| aki no yo wa nagai no ura ni tomarishite nodoka ni terasu ariake no tsuki | Autumn nights Are long at Nagai Bay Lodging, and Gently shining The dawntime moon. |
Lady Kazusa
41
Right (Win)
秋の夜のくもふきはらふあらしこそ月みるひとのこころなりけれ
| aki no yo no kumo fuki’harau arashi koso tsuki miru hito no kokoro narikere | On an autumn night The clouds a’blowing away, The storm wind, truly, As someone gazing upon the moon Has the selfsame heart! |
Lady Shikibu
42
The poem of the Left certainly imagines the scene just as it is. With that being said, however, the dawntime moon is not present long enough. The Right’s poem simply sounds like one composed by Atsutaka for the ‘Poetry Match held at the Residence of the Former Captain of the Outer Palace Guards, Left Division’.[i] Thus, it’s impossible for me to determine a winner or loser.
It’s a poem which we see in the Poetry Match at Lord Moroyori’s Residence.
冬のよの雲ふきはらふ木枯や月見る人の心なるらむ
| fuyu no yo no kumo fuki’harau kogarashi ya tsuki miru hito no kokoro naruramu | On a winter’s night The clouds a’blowing away, The bitter wind, indeed, As someone gazing upon the moon The same heart seems to have![ii] |
In the poem of the Left, is it the moon or the poet who is lodging at Nagai Bay? If it’s the moon, then ‘lodging’ is erroneous; if it’s the poet, then ‘gently shining’ doesn’t work. In addition to this vagueness, I do also question whether ‘dawntime’ sounds appropriate. As for the Right’s poem, ‘as someone gazing at the moon / Has the selfsame heart!’ is an elegant conception, and the diction is also smooth. It reminds me of an earlier work by someone else. Thus, it wins.
[i] This match has a several different titles, Mototoshi refers to here as both: Zen sa-hyōe no kami no ie no uta’awase 前左兵衛督家歌合 and also Moriyori-kyō no ie uta’awase 師頼卿家歌合, but it is also known as the ‘Poetry Match held by the Late Master of the of the Crown Prince’s Household’ (Ko-tōgū daibu ie uta’awase 故東宮大夫家歌合) and the ‘Poetry held by Moroyori, Captain of the Outer Palace Guards, Right Division’ (U-hyōe no kami moroyori uta’awase 右兵衛督師頼歌合): the text of this match is no longer extant, but it is known to have taken place in the winter Tennin 天仁 2 (1109). Fujiwara no Kiyosuke notes that it was judged by Toshiyori, but Mototoshi disagreed with his assessments and submitted at set of judgements of his own in appeal (Fujioka 1995, 212).
[ii] This poem is included in Shoku shikashū (VI: 293), attributed to Moroyori, with the headnote, ‘Composed on the moon in winter’.