沖つ波來よる荒磯の敷たへの枕と枕きて寢せる君かも
| oki tu nami kiyöru ariso nö sikitapë nö makura tö makite naseru kimi ka mo |
The waves against the seashore Rushing to the rocky coast, are the Folded mulberry-cloth Pillowed bed, Where you will sleep for evermore. |
妻もあらば採みてたげまし佐美の山野の上(へ)のうはぎ過ぎにけらずや
| tuma mo araba tumite tagemasi sami nö yama no nö pë nö upagï suginikerazu ya |
Had you but a wife, She would, no doubt, pluck for your food On the mount of Sami Asters from the peak; But now, it is too late by far |
A poem composed by Lord Kakinomoto no Hitomaro on seeing a dead man among the rocks of Samine Island in Sanuki Province.
玉藻よし 讚岐の國は 國柄か 見れども飽かぬ 神柄か ここだ貴き 天地 日月とともに 滿りゆかむ 神の御面と 繼ぎて來る 中の水門ゆ 船浮けて わが漕ぎ來れば 時つ風 雲居に吹くに 沖見れば とゐ波立ち 邊見れば 白波さわく 鯨魚取り 海を恐み 行く船の 梶引き折りて をちこちの 島は多けど 名くはし 狹岑の島の 荒磯面に いほりて見れば 波の音の 繁き濱べを 敷たへの 枕になして 荒床に 自伏す君が 家知らば 行きても告けむ 妻知らば 來も問はましを 玉桙の 道だに知らず おぼぼしく 待ちか戀ふらむ 愛しき妻らは
| tamamo yosi sanuki nö kuni pa kunikara ka miredömo akanu kamukara ka kököda taputoki amëtuti pitukï tö tömo ni tariyukamu kamï nö miomo tö tugitekuru naka nö minato yu pune ukete wa ga kögikureba töki tu kaze kumowi ni saku ni oki mireba töwinami tati pe mireba siranami sawaku izana töri umi wo kasikomi yuku pune nö kadi pikiworite wotiköti nö sima pa opokedö na kupasi samine nö sima nö arisomo ni iporite mireba nami nö to nö sigeki pamabe wo sikitapë nö makura ni nasite aradökö ni koropusu kimi ga ipe siraba yukitemo tukemu tuma siraba ki mo topamasi wo tamapokö nö miti dani sirazu obobosiku mati ka kopuramu pasiku tumara pa |
Jewelled seaweed, Province of Sanuki: Is it your nature that The sight of you will never sate? Is it that your guardian god Is paramount? With heaven and earth, And sun and moon, May you endure. Toward one divine face, We continue on our journey, Out the rivermouth at Naka, Floating in our boat. As we come rowing, The seasonal wind Blows from the distant sky; From offshore, I see The crashing breakers; I see the coast, Among the roaring white caps; Hunting whales The sea, I fear it. Our bobbing boat, Warps its oars. All around There are many islands, yet On the famous Isle of Samine, On the rocky, wave-wracked sea coast We make landfall and see Among the waves’ sound Ever on the seashore, A folded mulberry-cloth Pillow have you made, On a rough and rocky bed You lay down: If I knew your home I would go and tell them; If your wife knew She would come inquiring; Jeweled spear straight Your path, though she knows it not; Worriedly, Is she waiting, loving you That darling wife of yours |
A poem composed by Hitomaro, Lord Kakinomoto on the death of a lady-in-waiting from Tsu in Kibi.
秋山の したへる妹 なよ竹の とをよる子らは いかさまに 思ひ居れか 栲繩の 長き命を 露こそば 朝に置きて 夕は 消ゆといへ 霧こそば 夕に立ちて 朝は 失すといへ 梓弓 音聞く我れも おほに見し こと悔しきを 敷栲の 手枕まきて 劍太刀 身に添へ寢けむ 若草の その嬬の子は 寂しみか 思ひて寢らむ 悔しみか 思ひ戀ふらむ 時ならず 過ぎにし子らが 朝露のごと 夕霧のごと
| akiyama nö sitaperu imo nayotakë nö töwoyöru kora pa ikasama ni omopiwore ka takunapa nö nagaki inöti wo tuyu kösö ba asita ni okite yupupe pa kiyu tö ipe kiri kösö ba yupupe ni tatite asita ni pa usu tö ipe adusa yumi otö kiku ware mo opo ni misi kötö kuyasiki wo sikitapë nö tamakura makite turugi tati mï ni sope nekemu wakakusa nö sono tuma nö ko pa sabusimi ka omopite nuramu kuyasimi ka omopi kopuramu töki narazu sugi ni si kora ga asa tuyu nö götö yupugiri nö götö |
As autumn mountains Tinged with scarlet were you, maiden, A pliable bamboo, Supply bending, lady, Of what Were you thinking? A rope of hemp Should stretch your life long; The dew Falls with the morning And with the evening Vanishes, ’tis said; The mist Rises with the evening And with the morn Is lost, ’tis said; As a catalpa bow, The rumours, I, too, heard them, and Saw you only briefly. How sad: As folded linen, Pillowed on your arm, A well-honed sword, His body by yours in sleep, As young grass, Is your husband. How lonely must he be ? With thoughts of you will he sleep, Grieving; Fondly feeling, It was not your time, And you are gone, oh lady, As is the morning dew, As is the evening mist. |
ひさかたの天知らしぬる君故に日月も知らず戀ひわたるかも
| pisakata nö amë sirasinuru kimi yuwe ni pi tukï mo sirazu kopïwataru ka mo. |
To the far-reaching Heavens has gone My prince, so Unaware of passing days and nights Will I love him still. |