Left
きみをわれおきてしゆけばあさつゆのきえかへりてもあはむとぞおもふ
| kimi o ware okiteshi yukeba asatsuyu no kiekaerite mo awamu to zo omou | With you, my love, I Having risen and departed With the morning dew, Vanishing away, only To meet once more, I feel. |
28
Right
あさぼらけあかぬわかれをわびつつもゆふぐれをこそなぐさめにすれ
| asaborake akanu wakare o wabitsutsu mo yūgure o koso nagusame ni sure | At the pale edge of dawn, Unsatisfied, parting Leaves me ever desolate— The evening is sure to be My consolation! |
29
Left
ゆふざれもさらにまたれずあさぼらけおきゆくみちのつゆとけぬべし
| yūzare mo sara ni matarezu asaborake okiyuku michi no tsuyu to kenubeshi | For eventide, Again, I cannot wait, but At the dawning Rise and go—my path filled With lasting dew, it seems. |
24
Right
あはぬよはわびてもねにきあかつきのわかれのみちはまどはれぞする
| awanu yo wa wabite mo ne ni ki akatsuki no wakare no michi wa madoware zo suru | Nights we fail to meet Are desolate, but when I have come and slept with you The dawn’s Parting path Leaves me lost! |
25
Sent when he had returned home from a lady’s house on a day when the snow was falling.
あけぬればくるる物とはしりながらなほうらめしきあさぼらけかな
| akenureba kururu mono to Fa sirinagara naFo uramesiki asaborake kana | Dawn has broken, and That dusk will come I know for certain, but Still, I hate The morning light! |
Fujiwara no Michinobu
Sent on the morning that the Sanjō Regent Junior Consort was presented at court.
あさぼらけおきつる霜の消えかへりくれまつほどの袖を見せばや
| asaborake okitsuru shimo no kiekaeri kure matsu hodo no sode o miseba ya | With dawn’s first light The fallen frost Vanishes away; Waiting for the evening, for Then would I show you my sleeves… |
Former Emperor Kazan
First snow seen at dawn (暁見初雪)
Left
鏡山あか月方に見わたせばあまぎりあひて初雪ぞふる
| kagamiyama akatsukikata ni miwataseba amagiri aite hatsuyuki zo furu | When Mirror Mountain At the edge of dawn I do survey Blended with the misting rain is The first fall of snow. |
Fujiwara no Akinobu, Secretary of Music
27
Right
あさぼらけまだふみ分けぬ初雪にいづれを道とわきぞかねつる
| asaborake mada fumiwakenu hatsuyuki ni izure o michi to waki zo kanetsuru | By dawn’s first light As yet no feet have marked This first fall of snow; How long can the path Remain untrodden? |
Akichika, Ranked without office
28
Left.
山人の便りなりとも岡邊なる椎の小枝は折ずもあらなむ
| yamabito no tayori naritomo okabenaru shii no koyade wa orazu mo aranamu |
For the mountain folk Essential they may be, but Upon the hillside The brushwood branches I would have them leave unbroken… |
567
Right.
山深く賤の折りたく椎柴の音さへ寒き朝ぼらけかな
| yama fukaku shizu no oritaku shiishiba no oto sae samuki asaborake kana |
Deep within the mountains Woodsmen break and burn The brushwood; That sound brings the chill To me this dawning… |
568
The Right wonder what the intention is in the Left’s poem of regretting the breakage of ‘brushwood branches’. The Left say that the Right’s poem, ‘recalls a famous poem by one of the other gentlemen of the Right.’
Shunzei’s judgement: Simply using the old-fashioned koyade in place of the more current shiishiba does not improve the sound of the poem, I think. Starting ‘Deep within the mountains’ (yama fukaku) and then continuing ‘Woodsmen break and burn’ (shizu no oritaku) – is this supposed to convey the conception of felling trees [shiba o koru kokoro ni ya]? I hardly think that if one lived in the mountains, the sound of trees being cut and burnt would make one feel the chill. The diction of ‘deep within the mountains’ does not seem appropriate [‘yama fukaku’ no kotoba, kanai mo sezaru]. Given that it does sound old-fashioned, koyade does not sound like a winner, either. The poems are of equal quality.
