Tag Archives: frost

Winter II: 22

Left.

伎倍人のまだら衾は板間より霜置く夜半の名にこそ有けれ

kiehito no
madarabusuma wa
itama yori
shimo oku yowa no
na ni koso arikere
The Kie folk’s
Motley-coloured coverlet:

From between the boards
The falling midnight frost has
Given that name to mine!

Lord Ari’ie.

583

Right.

冴ゆる夜は天つ乙女もいかならん風もたまらぬ麻手小衾

sayuru yo wa
ama tsu otome mo
ika naran
kaze mo tamaranu
asade kobususma
On this chill, clear night
The maidens of the Heavens, too,
How must they feel?
Unable to avoid the wind,
With only a meagre hempen blanket!

The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.

584

The Gentlemen of the Right state: we don’t understand the reference to ‘Kie Folk’ (kiehito). In response, the Gentlemen of the Left state: it occurs in the Man’yōshū. We have nothing more to say than that.

Shunzei’s judgement: although various remarks have been made about ‘Kie Folk’, and it has been said that it occurs in the Man’yōshū, it is not acceptable to simply say that and then say nothing more. It does appear to be something which it is acceptable to extract from the Man’yōshū and compose with, though. The Right’s poem, too, with its conception of frost falling on a ‘meagre hempen blanket’ (asade kobususma) is in a Man’yō style [fūtei]. It is also certainly the case that it is not unreasonable for the Left to have used ‘motley-coloured coverlet’ (madarabususma). The Round should tie.

Winter II: 19

Left (Win).

冴ゆる夜に鴛鴦の衾を方敷きて袖の氷を拂ひかねつゝ

sayuru yo ni
oshi no fusuma o
katashikite
sode no kōri o
haraikanetsutu
On a freezing night
Beneath my duck-down bedding
I lie alone;
The ice upon my sleeve
I can never brush away…

A Servant Girl.

577

Right.

木の葉をや鳥の上毛に殘すらん閨の衾も冴ゆる霜夜に

ko no ha o ya
tori no uwage ni
nokosuran
neya no fusuma mo
sayuru shimo yo ni
Are there any leaves
Left by the birds
For extra feathers?
The bedding in my chamber
Is frozen with frost tonight…

Jakuren.

578

Neither Left nor Right have anything in particular to say.

Shunzei’s judgement: I wonder about accepting the Left’s ‘Beneath my duck-down bedding I lie alone’ (oshi no fusuma o katashikite). The strengths and weaknesses are plain, and so there is not much more to say than that. The Left wins.

Winter II: 10

Left (Win).

吉野山篠の假寢に霜冴えて松風早し深ぬ此夜は

yoshinoyama
suzu no karine ni
shimo saete
matsukaze hayashi
fukenu kono yo wa
Upon Mt Yoshino,
In fitful sleep upon a bed of bamboo,
The frost falls chill, indeed, and
The wind gusts through the pines,
With the fall of night.

Kenshō.

559

Right.

外山なる柴の編戸は風過て霰横ぎる松の音かな

toyamanaru
shiba no amido wa
kaze sugite
arare yokogiru
matsu no oto kana
On the mountains’ edge
My woven brushwood door
Is pierced by the wind;
Hearing hail blown horizontal
Against the pines…

Jakuren.

560

Both Left and Right are exaggerated in their insistence that the other’s poem lacks any faults.

Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘Upon Mt Yoshino, in fitful sleep upon a bed of bamboo’ (yoshinoyama suzu no karine ni) would seem to suggest an ascetic who, having travelled into the mountains, has made himself a hut from bamboo and pillowed upon the tree roots, would it not? But here he seems to have simply cut them down, spread them out and lain upon them! In addition, ‘The wind gusts through the pines’ (matsukaze hayashi) fails to sound elegant [yū ni shi kikoezaru]. The Right, by starting with ‘On the mountains’ edge’ (toyamanaru), suggests that the poet is speaking of his own dwelling’s door in the mountains. ‘Hearing hail blown horizontal against the pines’ (arare yokogiru matsu no oto) also just does not sound appropriate. Both poems have an exaggerated feeling [kotogotoshikaran to wa kokorozashite], and I cannot grasp who they are referring to. However, the Left’s poem is, still, somewhat superior.

FGS V: 522

風寒みはだれ霜降る秋の夜は山下とよみ鹿ぞ鳴くなる

kaze samumi
hadarejimo furu
aki no yo wa
yamashita toyomi
shika zo nakunaru
How chill the wind
Dusting frost
On this autumn night;
The foothills echoing with
The belling of the stags…

Fujiwara no Mototoshi
藤原基俊

This poem is also included in the Horikawa Hyakushū.

Winter II: 5

Left.

さびしさの始とぞ見る朝まだきはだれ霜降る小野の篠原

sabishisa no
hajime to zo miru
asa madaki
hadarejimo furu
ono no shinohara
The loneliness
Has begun, I feel,
Early in the morning, with
The dusting frost
On the arrow bamboo groves…

Lord Suetsune.

549

Right (Win).

朝戸明けて都の辰巳眺むれば雪の梢や深草の里

asado akete
miyako no tatsumi
nagamureba
yuki no kozue ya
fukakusa no sato
Opening my door one morning, and
South-east of the capital
Turning my gaze,
The snow-laden treetops recall
The depths of the estate at Fukakusa.

The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.

550

Both teams say the other’s poem ‘isn’t bad’ [ashikaranu].

Shunzei’s judgement: Although I feel that this topic of ‘Winter Mornings’ should express the conception of the latter half of winter [fuyu no nakaba sugitaru kokoro], the Left’s poem sounds like one from the beginning of winter, and I wonder about that. ‘South-east of the capital’ (miyako no tatsumi) is taken from the poem by Kisen on Mt Uji, which states ‘South east of the Capital, and so I dwell’ (miyako no tatsumi sika zo sumu). This conception [kokoro] of being there and ‘gazing south-east of the capital’ (miyako no tatsumi nagamureba) to the Fukakusa Estate, is charming [okashiku haberu]. Snow on the treetops in the morning, too, sounds pleasant [yoroshiku kikoyu]. Thus, the Right should win.

Winter I: 16

Left (Win).

霜枯るゝ野原に秋の忍はれて心のうちに鹿ぞ鳴ぬる

shimo karuru
nohara ni aki no
shinobarete
kokoro no uchi ni
shika zo nakinuru
Burnt by frost
The fields autumn
Bring back to me, and
Within my heart
A stag cries out.

Lord Suetsune.

511

Right.

鹿の音も蟲もさまざま聲絶えて霜枯はてぬ宮城野の原

shika no oto mo
mushi mo samasama
koe taete
shimogarehatenu
miyagino no hara
The sound of stags and
All the insects varied
Cries are gone;
Completely burned by frost is
The plain of Miyagino.

Ietaka.

512

The Right say that the Left’s poem is ‘fine, perhaps’ [yoroshiki ka]. The Left reply that the Right’s ‘lacks any faults.’

Shunzei’s judgement: Both poems are on the topic of ‘withered fields’ and the Right has a fine final section with ‘the plain of Miyagino’ (miyagino no hara), but the initial section with ‘stags’ and ‘insects’ sounds as if the poet is enumerating members of list [kazoetatetaru yō ni ya kikoyu]. The Left, with its ‘The fields autumn bring back to me’ (nohara ni aki no shinobarete), followed by ‘Within my heart a stag cries out’ (kokoro no uchi ni shika zo nakinuru), is most fine. The Left should win.

Winter I: 15

Left.

色いろの花ゆへ野邊に立出でし眺めまでこそ霜枯にけれ

iroiro no
hana yue nobe ni
tachi’ideshi
nagame made koso
shimogarenikere
Many were the shades
Of blossom in the fields
I went to see;
Even that view, now, is completely
Burned by frost.

Lord Ari’ie.

509

Right (Win).

冬更くる野邊を見るにも思出る心のうちは花ぞ色いろ

fuyu fukuru
nobe o miru ni mo
omoi’izuru
kokoro no uchi wa
hana zo iroiro
In the depths of winter
Gazing o’er the fields
What I recall
Within my heart
Are the blossoms’ many hues.

The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.

510

The Right wonder about the appropriateness of having a ‘view’ (nagame) of frost burn. The Left suggest that ‘depths of winter’ sounds a poor expression [kikiyokarazu] [because ‘depths of night’ was a more standard usage].

Shunzei’s judgement: Both poems refer to the many colours (iroiro) of the blooms of autumn, and this is certainly not lacking in taste [yūnarazaru ni wa arazu]. When gazing over the frost-burned winter fields, saying ‘even that view’ (nagame made) is not a fault as such [toga nakarubekeredomo], but I feel it would be better to avoid encompassing everything within a ‘view’. On ‘depths of winter’ (fuyu fukuru), we have the same old opinion that it ‘sounds poor’ but, I ask you, what sounds poor about it? What is to be criticised in ‘depths of winter’? As a piece of diction, ‘depths’ (fukuru) can be used about anything. Thus, the Right must win.

Winter I: 14

Left (Win).

殘ゐて霜をいたゞく翁草冬の野守と成やしぬらん

nokori’ite
shimo o itadaku
okinagusa
fuyu no nomori to
nari ya shinuran
Left behind and
Draped with frost,
Old Man Chrysanth
A winter warden for the fields
Has he become?

Kenshō.

507

Right.

さむしろに野邊やさながら成ぬらん霜にし枯れぬ草の葉ぞ無き

samushiro ni
nobe ya sanagara
narinuran
shimo ni shi karenu
kusa no ha zo naki
Has a blanket of chill
Across the fields
Been laid?
By frost unburned
Is there not a single grassy leaf!

Lord Tsune’ie.

508

The Right find no fault with the Left’s poem this round. The Left query whether ‘blanket of chill’ (samushiro) is not somewhat forced.

Shunzei’s judgement: While ‘Old Man Chrysanth’ (okinagusa) is a formulation I find myself particularly unable to accept, the conception produced by ‘winter warden for the fields’ (fuyu no nomori) is most tasteful [fuyu no nomori to omoiyoreru kokoro wa yūtarubeshi]. The final section, ‘By frost unburned’ (shimo ni shi karenu) is extremely fine in both diction and configuration [sugata kotoba ito yoroshiku miehaberu], but this makes it all the more regrettable that a thin blanket is turned into a chill one. In this poem, one really needs a coverlet! The ‘winter warden for the fields’ should win.

Winter I: 13

Left (Win).

見し秋を何に殘さん草の原ひとつに變る野邊のけしきに

mishi aki o
nani ni nokosan
kusa no hara
hitotsu ni kawaru
nobe no keshiki ni
Of the sights of autumn
What should I recall?
The fields of grasses
Have become but one
Single plain within my view…

A Servant Girl.

505

Right.

霜枯の野邊のあはれを見ぬ人や秋の色には心とめけむ

shimogare no
nobe no aware o
minu hito ya
aki no iro ni wa
kokoro tomekemu
A frost-burned
Plain – so sad:
Can one who’s viewed it not
Hold the hues of autumn
Within his heart?

Lord Takanobu.

506

The Right state that the phrase ‘fields of grasses’ (kusa no hara) ‘sounds poor’ [kikiyokarazu]. The Left state that the Right’s poem is ‘antiquated’ [furumekashi].

Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘What should I recall? The fields of grasses’ (nani ni nokosan kusa no hara) is charming [en ni koso haberumere]. The gentlemen of the Right’s reasoning for finding fault with ‘fields of grasses’ is highly flawed [mottomo utata aru ni ya]. Murasaki Shikibu was better at writing prose than composing poems. Thus, The Festival of the Cherry Blossoms is particularly charming [koto ni en’naru mono nari]. It is highly regrettable for one to compose poetry without having read The Tale of Genji. The Right’s poem does not appear poor in diction and conception [kokoro kotoba ashiku wa miezaru]. However, it is extremely mundane in style [tsune no tei narubeshi]. The Left’s poem is better, and I make it the winner.

Winter I: 11

Left (Win).

白菊も紫深く成にけり秋と冬とに色や分くらん

shiragiku mo
murasaki fukaku
narinikeri
aki to fuyu to ni
iro ya wakuran
The white chrysanthemums
A deeper violet
Have taken on;
Are autumn and winter, then
Divided by their hues?

Lord Ari’ie.

501

Right.

霜枯の菊にしあらば紫に移ろふ色も嬉しとや見む

shimogare no
kiku ni shiaraba
murasaki ni
utsurou iro mo
ureshi to ya mimu
If frost-burned
Chrysanthemums there were, then
To violet,
Would a shift of hue
Be a source of joy?

The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.

502

The Right state that the Left’s poem expresses the topic only in its initial part. The Left comment that the Right’s poem is ‘little different from’ [Minamoto no] Koremitsu (d.1127)’s poem:

霜枯るゝ花とも見ずは白菊の移ろふ色を歎かさらまし

shimogaruru
hana to mo mizu wa
shiragiku no
utsurou iro o
nagekazaramashi
If frost-burned
Flowers I failed to spot,
White chrysanthemums’
Shifting hues
Might not cause me grief…

Shunzei’s judgement: The criticism that ‘the Left’s poem expresses the topic only in its initial part’ is pointless. It is common practice [tsune no narai] in poetry for the topic to be mentioned the initial part of a poem, and not in the latter; or not mentioned initially and then referred to in the final section. This section, too, just as in the Right’s poem in Winter I: 9, follows the Theory of the Five Elements. On the fact of the Right’s poem resembling Koremitsu’s: as I have said before, it is difficult to entirely avoid reference to poems outside of the Anthologies. However, if this is a poem on the topic of ‘lingering chrysanthemums’ from the Poetry Contest held in the younger years of the Lord of Hosshōji, that is all the more reason to avoid it. Thus, although in form [sama de] it may be somewhat lacking, the Left’s poem is most tasteful [yū ni haberubeshi]. The Left wins.