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今こむと言ひし許に長月のありあけの月を待ちいでつる哉
ima komu to iFisi bakari ni nagatuki no ariake no tuki o mati’ideturu kana |
‘I will come now,’ He had said, but Until the Longest Month’s Dawntime moon Appeared, have I been waiting… |
The Monk Sosei
Left (Tie).
たどりつる道に今宵は更けにけり杉の梢に在明の月
tadoritsuru michi ni koyoi wa fukenikeri sugi no kozue ni ariake no tsuki |
Trailing along The roads, tonight Has ended, with The cedar tops touched By the dawntime moon. |
657
Right.
心こそ行方も知らぬ三輪の山杉の木ずゑの夕暮の空
kokoro koso yukue mo shiranu miwa no yama sugi no kozue no yūgure no sora |
My heart’s Heading I know not! On Mount Miwa above The cedar tops lies The dusking evening sky. |
658
The Gentlemen of both the Left and Right state that they find no faults in the opposing poem.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left has ‘cedar tops touched by the dawntime moon’ (sugi no kozue ni ariake no tsuki) and the Right has ‘cedar tops lies the dusking evening sky’ (sugi no kozue no yūgure no sora) – both poems are charming [okashiku mo haberu]. While the Left lacks a reference to Mount Miwa, this makes it sound all the more charming, I think. ‘Dawntime moon’ is particularly fine in its tranquillity, but the Right’s ‘dusking evening sky’ is by no means inferior, so, again, the round should tie.
Left (Tie).
雲深き嶺の朝明けのいかならん槇の戸白む雪の光に
kumo fukaki mine no asake no ika naran maki no to shiramu yuki no hikari ni |
Deep within the clouds, Morning to the peaks must come, But how? I wonder, With whitening round my cedar door, Brightened by the snow… |
551
Right.
眺めやる衣手寒し有明の月より殘る峰の白雪
nagameyaru koromode samushi ariake no tsuki yori nokoru mine no shirayuki |
Gazing on, How chill my sleeves; The dawntime Moon will linger less than The snowfall on the peaks… |
552
Both teams say they find the other’s poem moving.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s poem has ‘deep snow’ (yuki fukaki), ‘whitening round my cedar door’ (maki no to shiramu), and the Right has ‘the dawntime moon will linger less than’ (ariake no tsuki yori nokoru) – the conception and diction of both are splendid [kokoro kotoba tomo ni yoroshiku koso haberumere]. It seems to me that is exactly how winter mornings are. Thus, it is difficult to say which is better. This must be a good tie [yoki ji].
Left (Tie).
吉野山花の故郷跡たえてむなしき枝に春風ぞ吹く
yoshino yama hana no furusato ato taete munashiki eda ni haru kaze zo fuku |
Upon Mount Yoshino – The home of blossom – Footprints fade away; Now purposeless, the branches, Shudder in the winds of spring. |
179
Right (Tie).
山の端ににほひし花の雲消えて春の日數は有明の月
yama no ha ni nioishi hana no kumo kiete haru no hikazu wa ariake no tsuki |
Along the mountains’ edge The glow of blossom Clouds has faded; The numbered days of Spring, Revealed by the dawntime moon. |
180
Both teams proclaim themselves moved by the other’s poem.
Shunzei, however, has this to say. ‘The Left’s poem contains “purposeless, the branches, shudder in the winds of spring” (munashiki eda ni harukaze zo fuku), and despite the fact that poems on Mount Yoshino have a somewhat old-fashioned air, and that one might wonder on which peaks it is such clouds of blossom remain, even these moss-covered sleeves have become thoroughly soaked with tears at the thought that the Way of poetry has not reached its end; the Right’s poem has “The numbered days of Spring, revealed by the dawntime moon” (haru no hikazu wa ariake no tsuki), and this has moved even this old heart to thoughts of such a dawning sky, so it is impossible to distinguish between the two in quality. Of old, Spring poems had style, indeed, and to think that such form and spirit still combine to torment the soul is something for which I am thoroughly grateful. Truly, these moss-covered sleeves have been drenched by both Left and Right!’