Left.
我戀は布留野の道の小笹原いく秋風に露こぼれ來ぬ
| wa ga koi wa furuno no michi no osasawara iku akikaze ni tsuyu koborekinu |
My love is as The path to Furuno through The bamboo groves: With the coming of the autumn winds An endless fall of dewdrops. |
Lord Ari’ie.
779
Right.
戀そめし心はいつぞ石上宮この奧の夕暮の空
| koi someshi kokoro wa itsu zo isonokami miyako no oku no yūgure no sora |
When did this love First touch my soul? The ancient Capital’s heart, gazing At the evening skies. |
Nobusada.
780
The Right wonder with it sounds appropriate for the Left’s poem to end with kinu. The Left say that the Right’s ‘Capital’s heart’ (miyako no oku) is a vague expression.
In judgement: ‘The faults of both poems this round are so minor as not to be worth criticism. The Left’s ‘path to Furuno through the bamboo groves’ (furuno no michi no osasawara) followed with ‘the coming of the autumn winds an endless fall of dewdrops’ (iku aki kaze ni tsuyu koborekinu) sounds particularly fine [yoroshiku koso kikoe]. I wonder whether the Right’s ‘ancient’ (Isonokami) followed by ‘capital’s heart’ (miyako no oku) is really that vague? People who make such criticisms must not read poetry in the same way as this old fool. What a sad situation this is! However, the round is a good tie.’
Left.
龍田姫今はの比の秋風に時雨をいそぐ人の袖かな
| tatsuta hime ima wa no koro no aki kaze ni shigure o isogu hito no sode kana |
Princess Tatsuta, At this time, now, With the autumn winds Does hurry along the showers Upon folks’ sleeves. |
479
Right.
あはれなる身のたぐひとも思来し秋も今はの夕暮の空
| awarenaru mi no tagui tomo omoikoshi aki mo ima wa no yūgure no sora |
How sad Am I and so, too, I’d thought was Autumn, now ended With the evening skies. |
480
The Right state that ‘hurry along the showers’ (shigure o isogu) is lacking in technique [jutsu nashi]. The Left merely say that the Right’s poem ‘isn’t bad.’
Shunzei’s judgement: Both poems use ‘now’ (ima wa) in their diction [kotoba], in conjunction with a powerful [sechinaru] conception [kokoro] of regretting autumn’s passing. Nevertheless, the Gentleman of the Left has said the Right’s poem ‘isn’t bad’ and the Gentleman of the Right has said that of the Left ‘lacks technique’. I feel, however, that the initial conception ‘Princess Tatsuta, at this time, now’ (tatsuta hime ima wa) does not refer only to autumn [but could be used for winter, too]. The Right’s ‘Autumn, now ended with the evening skies’ (aki mo ima wa no yūgure no sora) is also somewhat lacking in technique, is it not? Thus, the round lacks a clear winner, or loser.
Left (Win).
宇津の山越えし昔の跡古りて蔦の枯れ葉に秋風ぞ吹く
| utsu no yama koeshi mukashi no ato furite tsuta no kareba ni akikaze zo fuku |
Utsu Mountain, Crossed in times of old by Ruins, ageing; on The withered ivy leaves The winds of autumn are a’blowing… |
431
Right.
淺茅たつ庭の色だにあるものを軒端の蔦はうち時雨つゝ
| asaji tatsu niwa no iro dani aru mono o nokiba no tsuta wa uchishiguretsutsu |
The cogon-grass grows In my garden, but the only hint of colour Is in The ivy by my eaves, Wet with constant showers… |
432
As the previous round.
Shunzei’s judgement: Both Left and Right seem superb in form and diction [sugata kotoba wa yoroshiku miehaberu], but the Right’s ‘cogon-grass grows’ (asaji tatsu) is pretentious [yauyaushiku], and I wonder what to make [ikaga to oboehaberu] of the final ‘wet with constant showers’ (uchishiguretsutsu), but the conception [kokoro] of the Left’s ‘Utsu Mountain’, with its ‘ancient ruins’ brought back to memory by ‘on the withered ivy leaves the winds of autumn a’blowing’, is particularly tasteful [en]. Thus, the Left certainly wins.
Left (Win).
月ぞ澄む里はまことに荒れにけり鶉の床を拂ふ秋風
| tsuki zo sumu sato wa makoto ni arenikeri uzura no toko o harau aki kaze |
Clear shines the moon, dwelling O’er a house truly Gone to ruin; The quail’s bed Brushed by autumn breezes… |
347
Sada’ie’s poem alludes obliquely to a famous poetic exchange from the Kokinshū, initiated by Ariwara no Narihira.
Right.
繁き野と荒果てにける宿なれや籬の暮に鶉鳴く也
| shigeki no to arehatenikeru yado nare ya magaki no kure ni uzura nakunari |
Overgrown are these fields, and Is that a deserted Dwelling? By the fence at evening time The quails are crying. |
348
Both teams concur that there are no faults at all this round.
Shunzei agrees: ‘Both poems are on the theme of now deserted dwelling places and are equally beautiful in expression, with the Right’s work reminiscent of “Fushimi at evening time”, but this implies a broad vista, and is not “the fence at evening time” too narrow? The Left’s final section is better, and wins, I think.’
Left (Win).
ひとり寢る葦の丸屋の下露に床を傡べて鶉鳴く也
| hitori nuru ashi no maruya no shimo tsuyu ni toko o narabete uzura nakunari |
Sleeping singly In a reed-roofed hut, Dripped with dew, Beside my bed The quails are crying. |
345
Right.
秋風に靡く尾花の夕露や鶉が閨の雨と散るらむ
| akikaze ni nabiku obana no yūzuyu ya uzura ga neya no ame to chiruramu |
In the autumn breeze Flutter fronds of silvergrass, Scattering dewdrops On the quails’ roost – How like rain… |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
346
The Right state that the Left’s poem has no faults. The Left state that, ‘“On the quails’ roost – how like rain” (uzura ga neya no ame) suggests that this is what it actually is.’
Shunzei disagrees: ‘It is not the case that uzura ga neya no ame definitely implies that it is actually rain, particularly with the scene set by dew on silvergrass. However, “beside my bed” (toko o narabete) is particularly attractive in expression. It should win.’
Left (Win).
小萱原吹來る秋の夕風に心亂れと鶉鳴くなり
| ogayawara fukikuru aki no yūkaze ni kokoro midare to uzura naku nari |
Across the sedge fields Come blowing the autumn Evening winds; My heart’s in disarray, The quails are crying… |
339
Right.
秋風を厭ひやすらん夕間暮淺茅が下に鶉鳴く也
| aki kaze o itoi ya suran yūmagure asaji ga shita ni uzura naku nari |
The autumn wind: Do they dislike it, I wonder? In the dark of evening From beneath the sparse stalks of cogon grass The quails are crying… |
340
The Right feel that, ‘Just having “my heart’s in disarray” (kokoro midare to) is lacking something.” The Left have no particular criticisms of the Right’s poem.
Shunzei responds, ‘The gentlemen of the Right have remarked upon the lack in the Left’s poem, wondering, no doubt, if this should be “feeling my heart’s in disarray” (kokoro midare tote). If one were to say that this is definitely the way the poem should have been composed, it would be something of a loss to the Way of Poetry, I feel. If we permit poets to say they are “moved” (aware nari), why not that their “heart’s in disarray”? The Right’s poem has a superlative final section, but one cannot know whether quails dislike the autumn wind or not. In Springtime, the warblers frolic in the mists; in Autumn, the insects cry from beneath the dewdrops – but each only at their allotted time, and from this one can tell the season. The quails’ cries make one feel the chill of the autumn wind. If one composes that they hid themselves from dislike of it, it restricts the imagination about quails too much. The Left wins.’