From the Poetry Contest held by the Empress Dowager during the reign of the Kanpyō emperor. 花薄そよともすれば秋風の吹くかとぞ聞くひとり寝る夜は
| Fanasusuki soyo tomo sureba akikaze no Fuku ka to zo kiku Fitori nuru yo Fa | When the silver grass fronds Rustle all together, I wonder if ‘tis our autumn wind Blowing that I hear, Tonight, as I sleep alone… |
Ariwara no Muneyana
A poem from the Poetry Contest held by the Empress Dowager during the reign of the Kanpyō emperor.
秋風にほころびぬらし藤袴つづりさせてふきりぎりすなく
| akikaze ni Fokorobinurasi Fudibakama tudurisasete teFu kirigirisu naku | With the autumn breeze Seem to have bloomed and twined The asters Bound together by the rasping Crickets’ cries.[1] |
Ariwara no Muneyana
[1] This poem is composed around a dual wordplay, which I have not been able to closely replicate in the translation. Hokorobu is simultaneously both ‘bloom fully’ and ‘thread (a needle)’ while tsuzuru is both ‘sew together’ and an onomatopoeic representation of the sound that a cricket makes.
On blossom.
真葛原靡く秋風吹くごとに阿太の大野の萩の花散る
| makuzu para nabiku akikaze puku goto ni ada no opono no pagi no pana tiru | The kudzu vines upon the moors Flutter in the autumn wind, As it blows Upon Ada plain The bush-clover blossoms scatter. |
On dew.
このころの秋風寒し萩の花散らす白露置きにけらしも
| kono koro no akikaze samusi pagi no pana tirasu siratuyu wokinikerasi mo |
At about this time The autumn wind is chill; Bush clover bloom Scattering silver dewdrops – Do they, perhaps, fall too? |
Anonymous
Left
人待ちし庭の淺茅生茂りあひて心にならす道芝の露
| hito machishi niwa no asajū shigeriaite kokoro ni narasu michishiba no tsuyu |
Awaiting him, The cogon-grass in my garden Has grown lush, indeed; And I have taken to my heart The dew that falls upon my lawn! |
A Servant Girl
1029
Right (Win)
秋風になびく淺茅の色よりもかはるは人の心なりけり
| akikaze ni nabiku asaji no iro yori mo kawaru wa hito no kokoro narikeri |
With the autumn wind Waves the cogon grass, Colours Changing less than her Heart’s passions… |
Ietaka
1030
The Gentlemen of the Right state: the Left’s poem has no faults to mention. The Gentlemen of the Left state: the intial part of the Right’s poem is derived from an old poem, and so does the end!
In judgement: I wonder whether the cogon-grass (asajū), mentioned initially, is as clearly conceived as the ‘lawn’ (michishiba) mentioned at the end? The Right’s poem refers to ‘So full are my thoughts, what am I to do? With the autumn wind’, but reverses the beginning and end of that poem; it is extremely old-fashioned in style, but pleasant as it is plainly intended to be understood as a variant of its model. Thus, the Right wins over the combination of ‘cogon-grass’ and ‘lawn’.
Left (Tie)
うち頼む人のけしきの秋風に心の底の萱が下折れ
| uchitanomu hito no keshiki no akikaze ni kokoro no soko no kaya ga shitaore |
I did rely on Him, but now in his look, is The autumn wind; in The depths of my heart are Broken, drooping fronds of silver grass… |
Lord Ari’ie
1025
Right
あさましやなどか思のさしも草露も置きあへずはては燃ゆらん
| asamashi ya nado ka omoi no sashimogusa tsuyu mo okiaezu hate wa moyuran |
How strange it is! Why is it that my love’s fires, like Moxa, Not completely covered by the dew Will at the end burst into flame once more? |
Jakuren
1026
The Right state: the Left’s poem has no faults to indicate. The Left state: in the Later Collection of Gleanings there is a poem about Ibuki, which uses ‘burst into flame’ (moyu). We wonder about the suitability of using ‘burst into flame’ without also using Ibuki. The Right, in response: older poems used ‘burst entirely into flame’ (sashimoyu), and this composition is the same.
In judgement: I am not accustomed to hearing ‘the depths of my heart are silver grass’ (kokoro no soko no kaya) as in the Left’s poem. The image in the Right’s poem of moxa not completely covered with dew bursting into flame seems rather overblown. The strengths and weaknesses of the two poems are unclear, so the round should tie.
On thinking sad thoughts.
古衣打棄つる人は秋風の立ちくる時に物思ふものぞ
| purugoromo ututuru pito pa akikaze no tatikuru toki ni mono’omopu mono zo |
As a worn-out robe Did he abandon me; Now the autumn wind’s Time to rise has come Sunk is he in sorry thought! |
A chrysanthemum from the beach at Fukiage in the province of Ki.
秋風の吹上に立てる白菊は花かあらぬか波のよするか
| akikaze no Fukiage ni tateru siragiku Fa Fana ka aranu ka nami no yosuru ka | In the autumn breeze Gusting at Fukiage Are the white chrysanthemums Blooms, or are the not, and just The breaking waves? |
The Suga Prime Minister [Sugawara no Michizane]
8
This poem was included in Kokinshū (V:272), where it has a somewhat longer and more explanatory headnote.
The wind across the fields (野風)
Round One
Left
けさみればはぎをみなへしなびかしてやさしの野辺の風のけしきや
| kesa mireba hagi ominaeshi nabikashite yasashi no nobe no kaze no keshiki ya | This morn when I look out Are the bush clovers and maidenflowers Waving Gently in the fields A vision of wind? |
Lord Toshiyori
15
Right (Win)
高円の野路の篠原末騒ぎそそや秋風今日吹きぬなり
| takamado no noji no shinohara sue sawagi sosoya akikaze kyō fukinu nari | In Takamado, At Shinohara in Noji, Noisy in the treetops Rustles the autumn wind As it blows today. |
Lord Mototoshi
16
In the Left’s poem, from the phrase ‘bush clovers and maidenflowers’ (hagi ominaeshi) and to the following ‘gently in the fields’ (yashi no nobe) seem singularly unremarkable. In fact, the diction seems so out of place as to be comic. The Right’s poem has an elevated style and charming diction, so one would think it should win, should it not?
The Gentlemen of the Left: the Right’s poem does use the comically forceful diction ‘rustles’ (sosoya).
In judgement: the Left’s ‘waving’ (nabikashite) is an expression giving the poem an extremely idiosyncratic style. The initial section also appears to be lacking in force. As for the Right’s poem, ‘rustles’ (sosoya) is used by Sone no Yoshitada in his poem ‘rustling, the autumn wind has blown’ (sosoya akikaze fukinu nari),[1] so it is not as if there is not a prior example of usage. Thus, it seems to me that the Right’s poem is superior.
[1]The judge, Fujiwara no Mototoshi, is mistaken here, as the poem he is remembering is by Ōe no Yoshitoki 大江嘉言 and can be found in Shikashū (III: 108). Yoshitada is the author of SKS III: 110, however, so it seems he has simply made a mistaken identification of authorship over two poems which are more or less adjacent to each other in that anthology.
Lingering Heat (残暑)
秋風の荻の葉はわくるおとはしてまだころもでのあつくも有るかな
| akikaze no ogi no ha wakuru oto wa shite mada koromode no atsuku mo aru kana | The autumn breeze Parting fronds of silver grass I hear; Yet my sleeves Are heavy with heat… |
Higo