Tag Archives: Kenshō

Spring II: 21

Left (Tie).

いつとなく思亂れて過ぐる世にうら山しきは遊ぶいとゆふ

itsu to naku
omoimidarete
suguru yo ni
urayamashiki wa
asobu itoyū
Unendingly
Suffering
I pass my time within this world;
How I envy,
The wavering haze…

Kenshō.

101

Right (Tie).

空に知れ春の軒端に遊ぶ糸の思ふ筋なき身の行衛をば

sora ni shire
haru no nokiba ni
asobu ito no
omousujinaki
mi no yukue oba
Learn from the heavens!
Above my eaves in springtime,
Wavering fronds
To my disjointed thoughts
Show the way…

Nobusada.

102

Neither team has anything special to say about the other’s poem.

Shunzei states, ‘Both poems have splendid poetic form on a theme of the poet bewailing his lot. They must tie.’

Spring II: 18

Left.

春日には空にのみこそあがるめれ雲雀の床は荒れやしぬらん

haru hi ni wa
sora ni nomi koso
agarumere
hibari no toko wa
are ya shinuran
The springtime sun
Alone, into the skies
Does seem to lift
The skylark: his nest,
I wonder, if ‘tis in disarray?

Kenshō.

95

Right (Win).

子を思ふすだちの小野を朝行ばあがりもやらず雲雀鳴也

ko o omou
sudachi no ono o
asa yukeba
agari mo yarazu
hibari nakunari
Caring for her chick,
Starting from the nest into the meadow,
With the coming of the morn,
Without taking flight,
The skylark gives call.

Jakuren.

96

The Right team state that the initial and central stanzas of the Left’s poem are ‘grating on the ear’, while the Left snap back that they ‘don’t understand the meaning’ of ‘caring for her chick, starting from the nest’ (ko o omou sudachi), and moreover, having both ‘starting from the nest’ (sudachi) and ‘take flight’ (agari) in one poem is clumsy technique as the meanings are too similar.

Shunzei judges that the initial stanza of the Left’s poem is ‘truly awful’. And, ‘in general, from what we know of how skylarks live, there is no reason to expect that they would heedlessly fly off after fouling their nests. In spring, they raise their young in the fields, and when the evenings are warm, or the spring sun is bright, they remain flying in the sky and look down on their chicks from above. They are birds which swoop and soar. Thus, one cannot say that they heedlessly foul their nests. The Right is in keeping with the skylark’s nature, and in form the poem also appropriately poetic, but because of the distance of the first stanza from the last, it is possible that one might not grasp the sense of the poem on first hearing. “Starting from the nest” (sudachi) and “take flight” (agari) are, though, too similar. However, as the Left’s poem has an unpleasant line, and is contrary to the essence of skylarks, despite its faults, the Right’s poem must win.’

Spring II: 12

Left.

妻戀のやたけの雉心せよ通ふ裾野も人あさる也

tsuma koi no
yatake no kigisu
kokoro seyo
kayou susono mo
hito asarunari
Longing for your hen,
O, peak-dwelling Pheasant,
Take care!
For in the meadows on the mountains’ skirts
Folk are seeking you!

Kenshō

83

Right (Win).

狩人の入野の雉妻戀て鳴ねばかりに身をやかへてん

karibito no
iruno no kigisu
tsuma koite
nakune bakari ni
mi o ya kaeten
Hunters
Enter the meadows and, a pheasant,
Longing for his hen,
A single call
Exchanges for his life.

Jakuren

84

The Right state that the expression ‘peak-dwelling pheasant’ (yatake no kigisu) is ‘not one we’re familiar with’ [kikinarawazu], and question the use of ‘Folk are seeking’ (hito asaru) in the Left’s poem. (The standard expression would have been kigisu asaru (‘seeking pheasants’), and they are probably indicating some resistance to the Left’s unusual phrasing.) The Left, on the other hand, simply say that the Right’s poem ‘is satisfying’ [kanshin ari].

Shunzei’s judgement: The Right’s poem says ‘a single call’ (nakune bakari ni) will cost a the pheasant his life, but is a call really enough? When hunters enter a field, they have dogs to sniff out the pheasant’s scent, so he’d be caught whether he called or not. However, in the Left’s poem, ‘peak-dwelling’ (yatake) is pretentious [kotogotoshiku], and ‘folk are seeking’ (hito asaru) sounds dreadful [ito osoroshiku kikoyu]. Thus, in any case, the Right’s poem must win.

Spring II: 1

Left (Tie).

若菜摘む野邊をし見れば竹取の翁もむべぞたはれあひける

wakana tsumu
nobe o shimireba
takatori no
okina mo mube zo
taware aikeru
Fresh greens are picked from
The field I gaze upon;
The Bamboo Cutting
Ancient, too, perhaps
Once gambolled there!

Kenshō

61

Right (Tie).

若菜摘み子の日に出づる友なくは家路思はぬ旅寢せましや

wakana tsumi
ne no hi ni izuru
tomo naku wa
ieji omowanu
tabine semashi ya
Plucking fresh greens:
If, on the Rat’s Day, travelling
Comrades had I none,
Unthinking of the homeward path,
Might I sleep the night away?

Jakuren

62

The Right team state that ‘Bamboo Cutter’ (takatori), in the Left’s poem, is usually pronounced taketori, and wonder if the Left can cite an earlier poem as proof that this reading is possible. In reply, the Left say that both takatori and taketori can be found in the Man’yōshū, and in the Hundred Poem Sequence Composed for Former Emperor Horikawa, Minamoto no Morotoki had used this reading.

The Left then wonder whether ‘unthinking of the homeward path, sleeping away’, in the Right’s poem is something which would only be done on an excursion to the fields. The Right reply that the poem was most likely composed when recalling an excursion to pick fresh greens on the Day of the Rat, and thinking of the fields.

In his judgement, Shunzei states first of all that there is no doubt that both taka and take are possible readings for the Old Bamboo Cutter. As poetic evidence that takatori is a possible reading for the Old Man in this case, in the Man’yōshū, just in a headnote, it says, ‘In ancient times, there was an old man. His name was Bamboo Cutting Ancient (takatori no okina). In the Third Month, this old man climbed a hill to gaze into the distance, whereupon he suddenly came upon nine maidens brewing fresh greens. Their beauty was beyond description, with faces fairer by far than flowers. The maidens called mockingly to the old man, “Come here, old fellow! Blow on our fire!” “Oho!” said the Old Man, and slowly made his way up to them, arriving close by in due course. After a while, the Maidens said to one another, laughing, “Who called this old man here?” The Bamboo Cutting Ancient replied quickly, “Unintentionally have I encountered divinity. In my confused heart, I had no ill intent. Let me pay for the sin of approaching too closely with a poem.” This is the poem he promptly composed.’ (MYS XVI: 3791).

After this lengthy quotation, Shunzei goes on to say that it is ‘not unreasonable’ to refer to this in a poem on the topic of ‘Field Pleasures’. However, the Left have already mentioned that both readings are given in the Man’yōshū. After this anthology was converted to modern language by Minamoto no Shitagō, kana readings were attached to the Chinese characters. However, it is now impossible to refer to this text, and it is unclear who assigned the readings take and taka. Lord Morotoki’s reasoning agrees with this. Furthermore, in the poem by the old man to the nine maidens, the character ‘bamboo’ (take) does not appear – it is only in the head-note – and so this reading may not have been given by Shitagō.

In general, on the point that both readings are possible, take would be more usual – taka is written with the character for ‘bamboo grove’, and this accords too with Chinese rhyming patterns. It is also used for the name of the poet, Ono no Takamura. Thus, normally, take could be said to be correct. Regardless of which reading is used, however, besides the fact that there is nothing exceptional in this poem’s construction, it is undesirable to include the expression ‘Ancient, too, perhaps’ (okina mo mube zo) in a poem. Although the Right’s poem appears more commonplace, it is impossible to decide on a victor between the two, and so a tie is awarded.

Spring I: 29

Left (Tie).

梓弓射手引く春のかひありてけふの諸矢は世にひゞく也

azusa yumi
ite hiku haru no
kai arite
kyō no moroya wa
yo ni hibiku nari
Catalpa bows,
Archers drawing them in springtime
Has an effect, indeed:
Today, the paired arrows
Resound throughout the world!

Kenshō

57

Right (Tie).

梓弓はる九重に散る雪をけふ立舞の袖に見るかな

azusa yumi
haru kokonoe ni
chiru yuki o
kyô tachimai no
sode ni miru kana
Catalpa bows:
Drawn in the ninefold palace walls, yet
Falling snow
This day’s dancing
Sleeves do seem!

Nobusada

58

The Right team have no comments to make about the Left’s poem, but the Left remark that ‘catalpa bow’ is a makura kotoba (a conventionalised poetic image) used with ‘spring’, and it is difficult to think that it is being used appropriately if related to ‘New Year archery’. (The complaint here seems to be related to the fact that in his original Nobusada writes haru, which I’ve translated here as ‘drawn’, phonetically, rather than with a Chinese character, making it initially seem like the verb haru ‘draw (a bow)’, rather than the homophonous ‘spring’.) The Left go on to make the aside that dancing took place within the palace on many other occasions besides the New Year Archery festival.

Shunzei, however, states bluntly that both poems contain ‘unnatural associations’ of ‘catalpa bow’ with ‘springtime effects’ for the Left, and ‘drawn in the ninefold palace’ for the right, so neither can be declared a winner.

Spring I: 19

Left (Tie).

荒れめれば縄絶つ駒をいかにしてつなぎとむらん野邊の初草

aremereba
nawa tatsu koma o
ika ni shite
tsunagitomuran
nobe no hatsugusa
Seeming driven wild and
Tether snapping is my steed:
How might
He be tied,
By the fresh grasses on the plain?

Kenshō

37

Right (Tie).

けさ見れば澤の若芹下根とけ緑にはゆる雪のむら消え

kesa mireba
sawa no wakazeri
shitane toke
midori ni hayuru
yuki no mura kie
Looking this morning on
The fresh dropwort by the marsh,
Melting round the roots –
So greenly growing –
Snow spots were vanishing.

Lord Takanobu

38

The Right team comment here that the Left’s poem is in the same spirit as Shun’e’s poem in the Shikashū (SKS I: 12). Into this has been inserted the additional idea of ‘tether snapping’ (nawa tatsu), and this is ‘grating on the ear’.

The Left team, in turn, say that the Right’s poem contains both ‘melting’ (toke) and ‘vanishing’ (kie) and this is an error. (Japanese poetics held that a poem should not contain two words with identical meanings.) It is also ‘undesirable’ to use ‘growing’ (hayuru).

Shunzei comments that the Right team have correctly identified the resemblance of the Left’s poem to that by the Monk Shun’e, and in such poems, it is commonplace not to avoid this. However, as in Taira no Sadafun’s poem in the Shūishū (SIS XVIII: 1185). ‘Tether snapping’ (nawa tatsu) is used of approaching a woman. (Nawa tatsu 縄絶つ ‘tether snapping’ is homophonous with na wa tatsu 名は立つ ‘one’s name would arise (in conversation)’ – in other words, ‘be gossiped about’.) Here, though, it is simply used about breaking a rope, or cord, and ‘is this not mundane?’ The Right’s poem starts ‘very well’, but to use ‘growing’ (hayuru) is ‘not good at all’. Both poems are ‘commonplace’ and so neither deserves a win.

Spring I: 13

Left (Win).

つらゝゐし汀を渡る春風に池のこゝろも解けやしぬらん

tsuraraishi
migiwa o wataru
harukaze ni
ike no kokoro mo
toke ya shinuran
The ice-bound
Waters’ edge a’crossing goes
The breath of spring;
Has the mere’s heart, too,
Melted?

Kenshō

25

Right.

雪つもろ峰に春日やさしつらむ谷の小川の水まさり行

yuki tsumoru
mine ni haruhi ya
sashitsuramu
tani no ogawa no
mizu masariyuku
Upon the snow-laden
Peaks has the spring sun
Shone?
For the valley streamlets are
With water overflowing…

Lord Tsune’ie

26

Neither team had anything deep to say about the other’s poem this round.

Shunzei states that, while both are of the same quality, the phrase ‘spring sun’ (haruhi) was not one that he liked to see used (why remains unclear, although there is speculation that it was because it was an ancient term dating from the Man’yōshū), and so the Left’s poem was just the winner.

Spring I: 9

Left (Win).

信樂の外山は雪も消えにしを冬を殘すや谷の夕風

shigaraki no
toyama wa yuki mo
kienishi o
fuyu o nokosu ya
tani no yūkaze
From Shigaraki’s
Mountains, the snow
Has gone, yet
Does winter remain in
The valleys’ evening breeze?

Kenshō

17

Right.

春風は吹くと聞けども柴の屋はなをさむしろにいこそ寢られね

haru kaze wa
fuku to kikedomo
shiba no ya wa
nao samushiro ni
i koso nerarene
The spring breeze
Blows, I hear, yet
My twig-roofed hut is
Yet chill: beneath a threadbare blanket
I cannot fall asleep.

Lord Tsune’ie

18

Shunzei states the first part of the Left’s poem is ‘elevated in tone’, but that the final line is problematic: a reference to ‘morning’ might have been better, or just to the ‘valleys’ breeze’, but this would not have fitted the syllable count. If the intention had been to add a sense of ‘darkness’ to the poem, an expression such as ‘the valleys, shadowed by the crags’ would have been better. As for the Right’s poem, the image of the ‘twig-roofed hut’ is lonely, but the overlaying of the ‘cold’ with ‘blanket’ (in the original poem ‘samushiro’ is a play-on-words with both senses) is pedestrian, and so the Left’s poem, despite its faults, is adjudged the winner.

Spring I: 5

Left (Tie).

むつき立けふのまとゐや百敷の豊明のはじめなるらん

mutsuki tatsu
kyô no matoi ya
momoshiki no
toyo no akari no
hajimenaruran
On the year’s turn
Today, with a congenial gathering
At the hundredfold palace,
Do the banquets – rubicund faces all –
Perhaps, begin?

Kenshō

9

Right (Tie).

百敷や袖を連ぬる盃にゑひをすゝむる春の初風

momoshiki ya
sode o tsuranuru
sakazuki ni
ei o susumuru
haru no hatsukaze
At the hundredfold palace,
Arrayed sleeves and
Wine cups are
Pressed to a pleasant drunkenness by
The first breeze of spring.

 

Jakuren

10

The Right state that ‘on the year’s turn’ (mutsuki tatsu) is an expression they ‘are not accustomed to hearing’ [kikinarezu oboyu]. The Left, in response, say that this expression occurs in the Man’yōshū. The Right then state that ‘rubicund faces all’ (toyo no akari) is unclear. The Left reply that the various Imperial seasonal banquets are referred to as such in Imperial proclamations. The Left have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.

Shunzei’s judgement: The gentlemen of the Right have stated that mutsuki tatsu is something particularly worthy of criticism, but I do not feel this to be the case at all [makoto ni oboehaberazu]. I definitely recall seeing poems containing mutsuki tatsu in the Man’yōshū. However, even if something occurs in the Man’yōshū, I do not feel either Left or Right should cite it in support [sayū naku shōko to subeshi to mo oboehaberazu]. Someone now dead once told me that we should pick the tasteful sections of the Man’yōshū [man’yōshū wa yūnaru koto o toru beki]. Meaning that in that anthology there are many poems which sound unpleasant [kikinikuki], such as ‘Dig it from Lord Yamada’s nose!‘ and ‘Drinking wine, weeping drunkenly‘ which it would be difficult to select now. To the time of that anthology, they did not avoid poetic faults [uta no yamai]. Therefore, such poems should definitely not be used as sources for poetry competitions [kanarazushimo uta’awase no toki wa rei to nasubekarazaru]. This is not the case with the poem in question, but it needs to be said. Moreover, in Imperial Proclamations,toyo no akari (豊明) appears to be written 豊楽. Both Left and Right have already given their opinions on the poem’s overall conception [fūtei]. In terms of its sense, in one area alone is it surprising: instead of ‘custom’ (narai wa) which is normal in poetry in these situations, it uses ‘congenial gathering’ (matoi), which evokes the plucking of a catalpa bow; when one uses toyo no akari, one would normally then continue with expressions such as “cloudless world” (kumori naki yo ). In the present poem, however, there is nothing for it to connect to. The Right’s poem simply concludes ‘first breeze of spring’ (haru no hatsukaze), and while one can hear the New Year in this, the scenery of ‘Pressed to a pleasant drunkenness’ (ei o susumuru) is more that of the Twisting Waters banquet (gokusui no en) or of composition on ‘peach blossom skies‘. In sum, then, the poem fails to sound elegant in style [uta no tei mo yū ni shi mo kikoehaberazarubeshi]. The Left’s matoi, too, has no links within the poem. Neither is worthy of a win I feel. Thus, this round is, again, a tie.