yuki fukami shizu no fuseya mo uzumorete keburi bakari zo shirushi narikeru
Snow so deep that The peasants’ huts, too, Are buried, and The smoke, alone, is Their only sign!
Kinshige 45
Right
花の春もみぢの秋もしるかりし松の木ずゑもみえぬ白雪
hana no haru momiji no aki mo shirukarishi matsu no kozue mo mienu shirayuki
By blossom is spring, and By scarlet leaves is autumn Known— The treetops of the pines Invisible with snow, so white.
Kūnin 46
The Left poem’s conception of ‘sign of smoke’ sounds particularly profound. As for the Right, it is possible for enough snow to fall to conceal a pine’s lower leaves, too, so the poem does not sound satisfying.
The Right state that the Left’s ‘Blowing ‘cross the field before my gates’ (kadota fuku) is grating on the ear. In addition, ‘should one really expect an answer from a house?’ The Left simply say that they find the Right’s poem ‘good’.
Shunzei’s judgement: The Gentlemen of the Right have correctly identified two faults with the Left’s poem. The Right’s poem, on the other hand, in both diction and sentiment, is extremely charming, and the final section, in particular is most profound in form. I must make it the winner.
The Right complain that the Left’s poem ‘appears to be expressing somewhat outré sentiments’. The Left state on the other hand that the Right’s poem is ‘not bad’.
Shunzei’s judgement: the type of emotional import expressed in the Left’s poem is superlative. In The Tales of Ise, after all, there is the section on ‘gathering fallen ears of rice’ – most charming! To say that this is outré suggests a deficiency of understanding. The Right’s poem, too, conveys an emotional message. I must wonder about the use of ‘Not deep at all within’ (fukakaranu), but still, the round should tie.
The Right find no fault with the Left’s poem this round. The Left wonder about the suitability of the phrase ‘folk within warding’ (hito wo moru), to which the Right respond that the expression carries the sense of wakefulness.
Shunzei’s judgement: the Left has the sound of bird clappers jointly guarding the fields, the Right, the sound of rice stirred by the autumn wind rousing folk in their huts – both poems display a particular skill in terms of form, but perhaps at the expense of feeling. Furthermore, I am unable to apprehend the Right’s ‘rice fronds; the folk within warding’. The Left wins, by a small margin.
