Round Twelve

Left

うつり行く花の下道跡もなしながめも白き春の山風

utsuriyuku hana no shita michi ato mo nashi nagame mo shiroki haru no yamakaze

The shifting Blossom on the paths beneath Leaves no footprints there; My gaze with whiteness filled By spring’s breezes in the mountains.

Dōchin
23

Right (Win)

身にかへておもふもくるし桜花さかぬみ山に宿もとめてん

mi ni kaete omou mo kurushi sakurabana sakanu miyama ni yado mo tometen

It should be me instead, I think, but even that brings pain; Where cherry blossoms Fail to bloom, deep within the mountains Should I make my home.

Dharma Master Nyokan
24

The Left’s poem does not sound poor, but has ‘gaze with whiteness’—a long time ago, Lay Priest Toshinari repeatedly said that it is not appropriate to compose about looking at something specific using ‘gaze’. The initial and concluding section of the Right’s poem sound fine—it should win.