Tag Archives: Kagami

Daikōtaigōgū no suke taira no tsunemori-ason ke uta’awase 33

Round Nine

Left

影きよく月をよこぎるうき雲は秋の名をさへけがしつるかな

kage kiyoku
tsuki yokogiru
ukigumo wa
aki no na sae
kegashitsuru kana
The pure light of
The moon crossing go
The drifting clouds—
The very name of autumn
Have they besmirched!

Arifusa
65

Right (Win)

照る月を浪のうへにてみる時ぞますみのかがみいる心ちする

teru tsuki o
nami no ue nite
miru toki zo
masumi no kagami
iru kokochisuru
The shining moon
Rests atop the waves, and
When I gaze upon it,
Within the clearest of mirrors
Does it lie, I feel.

Narinaka

66

What to make of the sound of the Left’s ‘besmirched the very name of autumn’? The Right does not seem to differ markedly from the conception of ‘Hundredfold Polished Mirror’[1] where it says that the moon ‘atop the waves’ is ‘all apiece with the autumn waters’ deeps’, does it. The Right should win.


[1] This is a reference to a poem by Bai Juyi, Bailianjing 百練鏡, contained in the Collected Works of Master Bai (Hakushi monjū 白氏文集), about a mirror which had been polished a hundred times. Kiyosuke quotes from the poem in his judgement, referring to the following passage: 江心波上舟中鋳 五月五日日午時 瓊粉金膏磨瑩已 化為一片秋潭水 jiangxinbo shang zhou zhong zhu / wu yue wu ri ri wushi / qiong fen jin gao mo ying yi / hua wei yipian qiu tan shui ‘In a boat atop the waves at the heart of the Yangtse / At noon on the 5th day of the Fifth Month / Polished with gemmed powdered seashells in golden oil / ‘Tis transformed and becomes all apiece with the autumn waters’ deeps.’

Kanpyō no ōntoki kisai no miya uta’awase 65

Left

ほりておきし池は鏡とこほれども影にもみえぬ年ぞ経にける

horiteokishi
ike wa kagami to
kōredomo
kage ni mo mienu
toshi zo henikeru
All dug out
The pond into a mirror
Has frozen, yet
Reflected, I cannot see
The year gone by!

127

Right

降る雪のつもれる峰は白雲のたちもさわがずをるかとぞみる

furu yuki no
tsumoreru mine wa
shirayuki no
tachi mo sawagazu
oru ka to zo miru
The falling snow
Has drifted upon the peaks
Whiteness
Arrives without a rustle
Making me wonder if it’s there at all…

128

Love VIII: 17

Left
山鳥のはつおの鏡掛けねども見し面影に音は泣かれけり

yamadori no
hatsuo no kagami
kakenedomo
mishi omokage ni
ne wa nakarekeri
A mountain pheasant’s
Tail of hempen cord this mirror
Does not suspend, yet
The face I saw there once
Makes me weep out loud…

Kenshō
1053

Right (Win)
面影をほの三嶋野に尋ぬれば行衛知られぬ鵙の草ぐき

omokage o
hono mishimano ni
tazunureba
yukue shirarenu
mozu no kusaguki
Her face
I did but briefly see at Mishimano
When I visited there;
I know not where has gone
The shrike hiding in the grasses.

Lord Takanobu
1054

The Gentlemen of the Right state: the Left’s poem has no faults to mention. The Gentlemen of the Left state: we wonder about the appropriateness of combining ‘Mishima Plain’ (mishimano) with ‘the shrike hiding in the grasses (mozu no kusaguki). Is there a poem as a precedent for this? If not, is it suitable?

In judgement: both poems have the conception of love: of imagining the pheasant and his mirror, and weeping at the memory of a lover’s face; and thinking of the shrike hiding in the grasses, visiting Mishima Plain, and recalling the past. However, what should we do about the matter of whether there is a precedent poem for ‘the shrike hiding in the grasses’ on Mishima Plain? Surely, it could be any plain, so there is no reason not to use this. The configuration of ‘I know not where has gone’ (yukue shirarenu) sounds better than that of ‘makes me weep out loud’ (ne wa nakarekeri). The Right, again, must win, I think.