Tag Archives: cedar

Kinkai wakashū 635

On the shrine at Miwa.[i]

いまつくるみわのはふりがすぎ社すぎにし事はとはずともよし

ima tsukuru
miwa no hafuri ga
sugi yashiro
suginishi koto wa
towazu tomo yoshi
Newly invested,
At Miwa, a junior priest
For the cedar shrine, but
What has occurred
It would be better not to ask!

635


[i] This is Ōmiwa Shrine (Ōmiwa jinja 大神神社) which is located on the western slopes of Mount Miwa 三輪山, in what is now Sakurai in Nara prefecture. Mount Miwa is covered by a cedar forest and the trees thus became an object of veneration at the shrine, something which was reinforced by: Topic unknown. 我が庵は三輪の山もと戀しくは訪らひ來ませ杉立てる門 wa ga io wa / miwa no yama moto / koishiku wa / toburaikimase / sugi tateru kado ‘My hut is / At Mount Miwa’s foot; / How I long / For you to come visiting / My gate where cedars stand.’ Anonymous (Kokinshū XVIII: 982). This poem was attributed to the deity of Ōmiwa Shrine, Miwa Myōjin 三輪明神, and firmly cemented the link between Miwa and cedars in poetry. See McAuley (2020, 577–578) for more details and example poems.

Kinkai wakashū 634

The summer moon above a shrine.[i]

ながむれば吹く風すずしみわの山杉の木ずゑをいづる月影

nagamureba
fuku kaze suzushi
miwa no yama
sugi no kozue o
izuru tsukikage
While I was staring into space,
How cool the gusting breeze, as
Above Mount Miwa’s
Cedar treetops
Emerges the moon…[ii]

634


[i] As with poem 631, the topic here, ‘The summer moon above the shrine’ (shatō kagetsu 社頭夏月) was generally used when the poet had a specific shrine in mind—in this case, Ōmiwa Shrine (Ōmiwa jinja 大神神社).

[ii] See: As part of a hundred-poem sequence. ながむれば衣手すゞしひさかたのあまのかはらの秋のゆふぐれ nagamureba / koromode suzushi / hisakata no / ama no kawara no / aki no yūgure ‘While I was staring into space, / How chill my sleeves became; / Upon eternal / Heaven’s riverbed / Comes an autumn evening.’ Princess Shokushi (Shinkokinshū IV: 321)

Kinkai wakashū 629

Frost at a shrine.

さよ深けていなりの山の杉のはにしろくも霜のおきにけるかな

sayo fukete
inari no yama no
sugi no ha ni
shiroku mo shimo no
okinikeru kana
Brief night breaks
O’er Inari Mountain, and
The cedar needles
Turn white with frost
A’falling![i]

629


[i] See: Drinking vessels [mizunomi]. いなり山しるしのすぎの年ふりてみつのみやしろ神さびにけり inariyama / shirushi no sugi no / toshi furite / mitsu no miyashiro / kamisabinikeri ‘Mount Inari’s / Symbolic cedars / Carry years’ weight: / The three sacred shrines  / Are venerable, indeed!’ Bishop Yūkei (Senzaishū XVIII: 1178); and: On warblers on the road to the barrier, while at the Poetry Office. 鶯のなけどもいまだふる雪に杉の葉しろき逢坂の山 uguisu no / nakedomo imada / furu yuki ni / sugi no ha shiroki / ausaka no yama ‘The warbler / Has sung, yet still / Falling snow / Turns white the cedar needles / On the mount of Meeting Hill.’ The Senior Retired Emperor (Shinkokinshū I: 18)

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 07

Round Seven

Left (Both Judges – Win)

音にさへ袂をぬらす時雨かな槙の板屋のよはの寝覚に

oto ni sae
tamoto o nurasu
shigure kana
maki no itaya ni
yowa no nezame ni
Even the sound
Does soak my sleeves with
A shower
Striking my roof of cedar boards,
Awaking at midnight…

Lord Sadanobu
13

Right

しぐれとて柞の杜にたちよれば木のはとともに降りかかるかな

shigure tote
hahaso no mori ni
tachiyoreba
ko no ha to tomo ni
furikakaru kana
When with a shower’s fall
Within the oak forest
I head to stand
Together with the leaves,
It strikes me as it falls!

Lord Munekuni
14

Toshiyori states: the first poem’s composition on one’s sleeves getting soaked on hearing a sound is extremely charming. It sounds like that’s really how it is. The latter poem, too, is smooth, and the final line appears to have had some thought put into it, so I dread having to say that the first poem wins.

Mototoshi states: ‘a shower at midnight upon a roof of cedar boards’ is a particularly superlative image, and that this would drench one’s sleeves is also extremely charming. While ‘the oak forest’ does not appear bad, it’s not that remarkable, and ‘waking at midnight’ is something that certainly occurs, I feel.

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 06

Round Six

Left (M – Tie)

さもこそは槙のまやぶき薄からめもるばかりにもうつ時雨かな

samo koso wa
maki no mayabuki
usukarame
moru bakari ni mo
utsu shigure kana
Truly,
A roof of cedar boughs
Seems scanty, for
It simply leaks when
Struck by a shower!

Lord Morotoshi
11

Right (T – Win)

木の葉のみ染むるかとこそおもひしに時雨は人のみにしみにけり

ko no ha nomi
somuru ka to koso
omoishi ni
shigure wa hito no
mi ni shiminikeri
‘Is it the leaves upon the trees alone
It dyes?’
I wondered once, but
A shower on folk’s
Flesh does leave a mark…

Lord Masamitsu
12

Toshiyori states: the first poem deliberately starts with ‘A roof of cedar boughs’ and then concludes with ‘Struck by a shower’ which is vague. It does sound like the poet might have had ‘the lonely sighing sound of rain beating against my window’ in mind when composing. In any case, this is something which would have been better avoided. If he wished to compose on this sort of thing, and had done so without this element, then the poem would not be unpleasant. As for the Right, well, this does sound somewhat scanty! Still, what kind of colour might the poet’s flesh be marked? If it was the colour of the leaves, then this would be pretentious, wouldn’t it. If he wanted to refer to the hue of the wind in the pines, then why didn’t he say so? As a composition about a shower, though, this sounds slightly better.

Mototoshi states: having such a thin roof of cedar boughs struck by a passing shower feels frightening for the people under it. At the beginning of the world, rain as thick as axles fell, I hear—what a terrifying shower that must have been! The expression ‘rain beating against my window’ occurs in a poem from Cathay, referring, it seems, to rain blown by the wind horizontally striking one’s fence. Thus, it does sound extremely moving to compose about rains striking one’s window and keeping one awake, but, then again, while it’s certainly true that showers dye the treetops on the mountains in all directions, what sort of mark would they leave on a person’s flesh? It sounds like the old tale of the well-warden’s sign, doesn’t it! This round, both poems are about the same.

Sumiyoshi-sha uta’awase kaō ni-nen 74

Round Twenty-Four

Left (Tie)

なにごとをまつとはなしにすみよしのかみにこころをかけぬまぞなき

nanigoto o
matsu to wa nashi ni
sumiyoshi no
kami ni kokoro o
kakenu ma zo naki
Nothing in particular
Have I to expect, but
Sumiyoshi’s
Deity within my heart
Dwells not for no moments at all!

Shōkaku
147

Right

いたづらにおいにけるかないにしへの人のうゑけむすぎならなくに

itazura ni
oinikeru naka
inishie no
hito no uekemu
sugi naranaku ni
How brief it’s been, but
I have grown old, though
By ancient
Folk a planted
Cedar tree I’m not…

Jakuchō
148

The conception of the Left’s poem, saying ‘Have I to expect, but’ sounds extremely charming, but the configuration of the poem of the Right, composing ‘Folk a planted / Cedar tree I’m not’ also appears pleasant. Thus, these tie.