夏木立軒端にしげくなるままにかずそひまさる蝉の諸声
| natukodati nokiba ni sigeku naru mama ni kazu soFimasaru semi no morogowe |
Clustered summer trees Beneath my eaves grow thickly And while they do In numbers most excessive Do the cicadas chorus. |
Shun’e
俊恵
Tag Archives: eaves
SZS I: 29
Winter II: 3
Left (Win).
訪へかしな庭の白雪跡絶えてあはれも深き冬の朝を
| toekashi na niwa no shirayuki ato taete aware mo fukaki fuyu no ashita o |
I would go a’calling; In my garden the white snowfall Has covered all the tracks; How deep is my sorrow, On this winter morning! |
545
Right.
軒のうち雀の聲は馴るれども人こそ知らぬ今朝の白雪
| noki no uchi ni suzume no koe wa naruredomo hito koso shiranu kesa no shirayuki |
From underneath the eaves To the sparrows’ chirps Have I grown accustomed, yet No one noticed This morning’s fall of snow so white… |
545
The Right state that the Left’s initial line makes their poemsound like a reply. In addition, the final line is ‘overly forceful’ [itau tsuyoku]. The Left merely comment that the Right’s use of ‘sparrow’ (suzume) is ‘inappropriate’.
Shunzei’s judgement: Even though the Left’s poem is not a reply, starting with ‘I would go a’calling’ (toekashi na) is common in the reply style [zōtōtei]. In addition, ‘Winter Mornings’ is not a topic which one needs to approach obliquely. There are only the good and bad points of the poetry. ‘From underneath the eaves to the sparrows’ chirps have I grown accustomed’ (noki no uchi ni suzume no koe wa naruru) is not an expression much used about morning snow. However, the final section of the poem appears fine. ‘Sparrows’ chirps’ (suzume no koe) is, perhaps, somewhat colloquial [zoku no chikaku]. Despite the comment by the gentlemen of the Right that the final section of the Left’s poem is ‘overly forceful’, it is a better ‘Winter Morning’ poem.
Autumn III: 6
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.
Autumn III: 5
Left.
蘆の屋の蔦這ふ軒の村時雨音こそ立てね色は隱れず
| ashi no ya no tsuta hau noki no murashigure oto koso tatene iro wa kakurezu |
My roof of reeds, Ivy twining on the eaves, is struck By a soft shower Sound is there none, but The hues cannot hide… |
429
Right.
今朝見れば蔦這う軒に時雨して忍のみこそ青葉也けり
| kesa mireba tsuta hau noki ni shigureshite shinobu nomi koso aoba narikeri |
When I looked this morning, The ivy twining on the eaves Was struck by a shower; Only the ferns remember To remain green-leaved. |
430
Neither team has any criticisms to make of the other’s poem, and say as much.
Shunzei’s judgement: Both poems are concern ‘a shower falling on ivy-clad eaves’, with the Left mentioning no sound from a ‘roof of reeds’ and the Right the different hues of ‘fern-remembered eaves’ (shinobu no noki). Thus, there is not much between them. I make them the same quality.
Autumn II: 12
Left (Win).
秋よたゞ眺め捨ても出なまし此里のみの夕と思はば
| aki yo tada nagamesutetemo idenamashi kono sato nomi no yūbe to omowaba |
O, Autumn! Could I escape you I would leave This dwelling, were it alone Enveloped in evening.. |
383
Right.
眺めつる軒端の萩の音信て松風になる夕暮の空
| nagametsuru nokiba no hagi no otozurete matsukaze ni naru yūgure no sora |
Gazing At the bush clover ‘neath my eaves, A visitor’s step Awaiting, carried by the pine-brushed wind, From the evening skies… |
384
Neither team has any criticisms of the other’s poem.
Shunzei’s judgement: There is no distinction to make between the diction or emotional import of either poem. There is, of course, no reason to expect the wind not to blow through the pine trees, when it brushes the bush clover. I feel that the sentiment of this poem’s ‘pine-brushed wind’ (matsukaze ni naru) resembles that of Round One Hundred and Ninety’s ‘Insects sing from the cogon grasses in my garden’ (mushi no ne ni naru niwa no asajū), but is somewhat inferior. The Left, though, truly captures the feeling.
Autumn II: 4
Left.
古の人を聞くにも秋の夜の窓打つ雨はさびしかりけり
| inishie no hito o kiku ni mo aki no yo no mado utsu ame wa sabishikarikeri |
Long ago The ladies, I hear, On autumn nights With rain beating ‘gainst the window Were lonely, as am I… |
367
Right.
軒近き松の風だにある物を窓打ち添ふる秋の村雨
| noki chikaki matsu no kaze dani aru mono o mado uchisouru aki no murasame |
Close by my eaves, Waiting, with the wind through the pines, Striking, The window, beaten by Autumn showers. |
368
The Right complain, ‘In the Left’s poem, the poet seems to hear of the appearance of “long ago ladies”, but what is it that he hears – one would usually expect more, would one not?’ The Left have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.
Shunzei broadly agrees: ‘The Left’s poem, in saying “ladies, I hear” would certainly seem to be recollecting the concubines at the court of Xuanzong, but I wonder if this is clearly enough expressed in the poem? The Right’s final section “The window, beaten by Autumn showers” (mado uchisouru aki no murasame) sounds particularly fine. Thus, the Right wins.’
Autumn II: 3
Left.
秋の夜は窓打つ雨に夢覺めて軒端にまさる袖の玉水
| aki no yo wa mado utsu ame ni yume samete nokiba ni masaru sode no tamamizu |
On an autumn night Rain beating ‘gainst my widow Wakes me from my dreams, Falling from the eaves, Yet many more are the droplets on my sleeves. |
365
Right.
見る夢も窓打つ雨に驚きて枕に秋の哀をぞ知る
| miru yume mo mado utsu ame ni odorokite makura ni aki no aware o zo shiru |
Dreaming, Rain beating ‘gainst my window Starts me awake; Upon my lonely pillow, autumn’s Sharp sadness do I feel. |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
366
Neither team has any criticisms of the other’s poem this round.
Shunzei agrees: ‘Both poems are superb in both style and form and, in addition, the initial sections are generally similar, but in terms of the concluding sections, the Left’s is slightly deeper. Thus, the Left wins.’
Summer II: 22
Left (Win).
夕立の雲の水脈より伝ひきて軒端に落つる瀧の白玉
| yūdachi no kumo no mio yori tsutaikite nokiba ni otsuru taki no shiratama |
An evening shower: The clouds form channels Trailing onto My eaves’ edge and dropping A cataract of silver droplets. |
283
Right.
鳴神の空かきくらす夕立にかゝらぬ里もありとこそ聞け
| narukami no sora kakikurasu yūdachi ni kakaranu sato mo ari to koso kike |
Thunder Darkens the sky; This evening shower: A dwelling where it falls not There is, I’ve heard… |
284
The Right have no criticisms to make of the Left’s poem, while the Left merely wonder, ‘Where is the dwelling where the shower “falls not”?’
Shunzei: ‘“The eaves’ edge and dropping a cataract of silver droplets” is particularly well-formed. It must win.’
Summer II: 21
Left (Win).
あづまやの軒にしづくをとゞめをきて程なく晴れぬ夕立の空
| azumaya no noki ni shizuku o todomeokite hodo naku harenu yūdachi no sora |
On all four sides From the eaves droplets Yet hang; Quickly clearing is The evening shower from the sky. |
281
Right.
夕立のほどこそしばしとまりつれなごりも涼しみ山木の陰
| yūdachi no hodo koso shibashi tomaritsure nagori mo suzushi miyamagi no kage |
The evening shower’s Span, but briefly Would I rest here; Coolness, a memento In the shade of mountain trees. |
282
The Right query, ‘The use of “from the eaves droplets” (noki ni shizuku). Surely it should be “on the eaves droplets” (noki no shizuku)?’ The Left respond, ‘These are identical in meaning and have no real difference.’ They then wonder, ‘Whether the Right’s poem has not changed in topic to tree shade?’
Shunzei says simply, ‘Both Left’s latter section, and the Right’s initial section are particularly pedestrian in expression, but the Left’s “From the eaves droplets” is slightly superior.’