Gentian
りんだうの花の本こそさかりなれなべての秋はあさぢふのすゑ
rindō no hana no moto koso sakari nare nabete no aki wa asajū no sue | The gentian Blooms’ roots Grow lush, as All of autumn lies In the tips of tangled cogon grass… |
Teika

Composed as an autumn poem.
ゆふさればをののあさぢふ玉ちりてこころくだくる風の音かな
yuFu sareba wono no asadiFu tama tirite kokoro kudakuru kaze no oto kana | When the evening comes All across the cogon-grass plain Scatter gemstones— Heart-tangling is The sound of wind! |
The Regent and Former Minister of the Right
Left (Win)
あだなりと人やみるらん年毎にとまらぬあきををしむこころは
ada nari to hito ya miruran toshigoto ni tomaranu aki o oshimu kokoro wa | Deceitful does it Appear to her? Every single year When autumn lingers not, that My heart is filled with regret… |
3
Right
よそ人も秋はをしきを浅茅生のむべもこゑごゑ鹿やなくらん
yosobito mo aki wa oshiki o asajū no mube mo koegoe shika ya nakuran | Does even a stranger Feel regret in autumn, when From among the cogon grass, Indeed, the belling of The stags seems to sound? |
4
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.
蟲の音の弱るもしるく淺茅生に今朝は寒けくはだれ霜降る
mushi no ne no yowaru mo shiruku asajū ni kesa wa samukeku hadare shimo furu |
The insects’ cries Have plainly weakened; Cogon grass, where On this chilly morning Patchy frost has fallen. |
463
Right.
思ふより又あはれは重ねけり露に霜置く庭の蓬生
omou yori mata aware wa kasanekeri tsuyu ni shimo oku niwa no yomogyū |
I feel Yet more sadness Laid upon me: Upon the dew has frost fallen In my tangled mugwort garden… |
464
The Right find no fault with the Left’s poem. The Left wonder about the appropriateness of ‘upon the dew has frost fallen’ (tsuyu ni shimo oku).
The Right respond, ‘This refers to when frost falls upon something where dew has already fallen.’ In reply, the Left say, ‘Surely, it is when both of them fall together. We do wonder about frost falling on top of dew.’
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s poem has an unclear link between its initial and final sections. On the matter of the Right’s ‘frosty dew’, this has the same sense as in the Right’s poem in the previous round. The dew has frozen into frost, surely? However, as the Left’s poem is not worthy of a victory, the round must tie.