Tag Archives: Kenshō

Love I: 9

Left (Win).

憂き身とてさのみはいかゞ包むべきいはで悔しきこともこそあれ

ukimi tote
sa nomi wa ikaga
tsutsumubeki
iwade kuyashiki
koto mo koso are
How pitiful am I!
How can I simply
Conceal my feelings
And say nothing? But painful
Events might unfold…

Kenshō.

617

Right.

色に出でいはぬ思ひの慰めは人のつらさを知らぬばかりぞ

iro ni ide
iwanu omoi no
nagusame ha
hito no tsurasa o
shiranubakari zo
Rather than burst out with words of love,
Leaving them unspoken, my feelings does
Console; then
Her coldness
Remains unknown…

Ietaka.

618

The Right find no fault with the Left’s poem, nor do the Left with the Right.

Shunzei’s judgement: ‘Once more neither poem loses or gains to the other in terms of form [utazama wa itaku shōretsu naku haberedo], but the Right has the poet being consoled by his silence, while the Left regrets what may happen. This emotional overtone is slight more refined [isasaka kokoro kashikoki] and so the Left should win.’

Love I: 5

Left (Win).

錦木に書き添へてこそ言の葉も思ひそめつる色は見ゆらめ

nishikigi ni
kakisoete koso
koto no ha mo
omoisometsuru
iro wa miyurame
Upon the spindle trees
He writes
His words, yet will those leaves
With the first shadings
Of passionate hues, she see…

Kenshō.

609

Right.

思ふより憂きに馴れたる袂かな涙や戀の先に立つらん

omou yori
uki ni naretaru
tamoto kana
namida ya koi no
saki ni tatsuran
From these soft feelings
To heartbreak accustomed are
My sleeves!
Do tears always love
Precede, I wonder?

Jakuren.

610

The Gentlemen of the Right state: while it is well known that spindle trees are an expression of love, it is certainly not the case that letters are attached to them. In response, the Left: in the writings of Nōin, he says, ‘A spindle tree is one to which the country folk attach letters.’ The Gentlemen of the Left state: the Right’s poem is irredeemably archaic [muge ni furumekashi]. In addition, ‘From these soft feelings to heartbreak accustomed’ (omou yori uki ni naretaru) is poorly linked, and the use of ‘precede’ (saki ni tatsu), in the absence of the mention of a path in the poem, lacks connection.

Shunzei’s judgement: the Left’s use of ‘spindle tree’ (nishikigi) is familiar from many Love poems and so seems quite tediously mundane [rei no koto]. The Right seems to have followed to some extent the conception of a poem by the former Nijō Lord’s serving woman, Chikuzen. I included it in the Senzaishū, and will note it down after this. As a result, the poem using the spindle tree must win. Note:

思ふよりいつしかぬるゝたもとかな涙ぞ戀のしるべなりける

omou yori
itsu shika nururu
tamoto kana
namida zo koi no
shirube narikeru
From these soft feelings
How swiftly soaked are
My sleeves;
Tears, indeed, of love
Are such a sign!

The positioning of certain words does not differ to any great extent.

Winter II: 25

Left.

唱へつる三世の佛の中の夜になぞ栢梨を勧め置きけん

tonaetsuru
miyo no hotoke no
naka no yo ni
nazo kaenashi o
susume’okiken
Reciting the names
Of all three world’s Buddhas;
In the midst of that night
Why is Kaenashi’s sake
Proffered?

Kenshō.

589

Right.

唱へつる三世の佛のよそに又大宮人の名乘るべしやは

tonaetsuru
miyo no hotoke no
yoso ni mata
ōmiyabito no
nanorubeshi ya wa
Reciting the names
Of all three world’s Buddhas;
On departing, once more
Do the palace folk
Announce their names?

Lord Tsune’ie.

590

The Gentlemen of the Left and Right state jointly: why be bothered about proffering Kaenashi sake, or courtiers giving their names?

Shunzei’s judgement: the poems of both Left and Right merely recall the order of events at the ceremony of reciting the Buddhas’ names. In conception and quality [kokoro mo uta hodo mo] they are equal.

Winter II: 21

Left.

厚衾和やが下は思やる心のみこそ夜をかさぬらめ

atsubusuma
nagoyaka ga shita wa
omoiyaru
kokoro nomi koso
yo o kasanurame
My piled bedding is
Soft, and beneath it
I am lost in thought;
Only those feelings
Come to me night after night…

Kenshō.

581

Right (Win).

いたづらに明くる夜をのみ重ぬれば獨り衾の床ぞさびしき

itazura ni
akuru yo o nomi
kasanureba
hitori fusuma no
toko zo sabishiki
Pointless
Dawn breaks night
Time and again;
A single blanket on
My bed is sad, indeed…

Nobusada.

582

Neither Left nor Right has anything to say.

Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s ‘piled bedding’ (atsubusuma) is similar in style to the poems of the previous round. The Right’s ‘single blanket’ (hitori fusuma) is a comparable piece of bedding, but the configuration of ‘pointless dawn breaks night’ (itazura ni akuru yo o nomi) is elegantly beautiful [sugata yūbi ni kikoyu]. Thus I make the Right the winner.

Winter II: 14

Left.

山人の便りなりとも岡邊なる椎の小枝は折ずもあらなむ

yamabito no
tayori naritomo
okabenaru
shii no koyade wa
orazu mo aranamu
For the mountain folk
Essential they may be, but
Upon the hillside
The brushwood branches
I would have them leave unbroken…

Kenshō.

567

Right.

山深く賤の折りたく椎柴の音さへ寒き朝ぼらけかな

yama fukaku
shizu no oritaku
shiishiba no
oto sae samuki
asaborake kana
Deep within the mountains
Woodsmen break and burn
The brushwood;
That sound brings the chill
To me this dawning…

Ietaka.

568

The Right wonder what the intention is in the Left’s poem of regretting the breakage of ‘brushwood branches’. The Left say that the Right’s poem, ‘recalls a famous poem by one of the other gentlemen of the Right.’

Shunzei’s judgement: Simply using the old-fashioned koyade in place of the more current shiishiba does not improve the sound of the poem, I think. Starting ‘Deep within the mountains’ (yama fukaku) and then continuing ‘Woodsmen break and burn’ (shizu no oritaku) – is this supposed to convey the conception of felling trees [shiba o koru kokoro ni ya]? I hardly think that if one lived in the mountains, the sound of trees being cut and burnt would make one feel the chill. The diction of ‘deep within the mountains’ does not seem appropriate [‘yama fukaku’ no kotoba, kanai mo sezaru]. Given that it does sound old-fashioned, koyade does not sound like a winner, either. The poems are of equal quality.

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.

Winter II: 1

Left.

山里は朝川渡る駒の音に瀬々の氷の程を知るかな

yamazato wa
asakawa wataru
koma no oto ni
seze no kōri no
hodo o shiru kana
Dwelling in the mountains,
Crossing the river in the morning,
The horses’ footfalls
Upon the ice within the shallows
Tells to me its depth…

Kenshō.

541

Right (Win).

谷河の氷るだにある山里に人も音せぬ今朝の白雪

tanikawa no
kōru dani aru
yamazato ni
hito mo oto senu
kesa no shirayuki
The streamlet,
Even, has frozen
At my mountain home;
No folks’ footfalls
On this snow-white morning…

Ietaka.

542

The Right have no criticisms to make of the Left’s poem. The Left just remark that the Right’s use of ‘even’ (dani aru) is ‘poor’ [yokarazu].

Shunzei’s judgement: Despite the Left starting their poem with ‘dwelling in the mountains’ (yamazato wa), even if it is on a winter morning, where must it take place? It must be at a riverside estate, or village. In addition, the only element of the conception of morning, is ‘crossing the river in the morning’ (asa kawa wataru). I do wonder about the sound of ‘even, has frozen’ (kōri dani aru), but the snow in the morning is more moving and charming [aware mo okashiku mo] than the Left’s mere sound of horses’ hooves on ice, so the Right’s is the better poem.

Winter I: 24

Left.

宇津の山夕越え來れば霙降り袖ほしかねつ哀この旅

utsu no yama
yū koekureba
mizore furi
sode hoshikanetsu
aware kono tabi
Gloomy in the Utsu Mountains,
Crossing them at dusk
In a fall of sleet;
I cannot dry my sleeves,
On this lonely journey.

Kenshō.

527

Right.

今日も又交野の御野に霙してかはく間もなき狩衣かな

kyō mo mata
katano no mino ni
mizore shite
kawaku ma mo naki
karigoromo kana
Today once more
On the royal hunting grounds at Katano
Sleet falls;
No time at all to dry
My hunter’s garb…

Lord Tsune’ie.

528

The Right find no faults with the Left’s poem. The Left merely say that the Right’s poem sounds old-fashioned [furumekashi].

Shunzei’s judgement: ‘The Left’s ‘I cannot dry my sleeves, on this lonely journey’ (sode hoshikanetsu aware kono tabi) has a strong sound of loneliness about it [sabite wa kikoehaberu], but there is a lack of anything connected to utsu no yama in this poem. In The Tales of Ise where it says ‘By Utsu Mount in reality‘ (utsu no yamabe no utsutsu ni mo), it does not seem that sleet was falling. If there is no reason for including utsu no yama to express the sense of sleet falling, there are many other places which could have been used to express a lonely journey. As there is no reason for including it, formally [sama de] there is a lack of connection to it. The Right’s katano no mino, too, as in the poem ‘To lend lodging to keep me dry, is there no one‘ is about hail, though hawking does take place there, so the poem does sounds slightly charming [sukoshi okashiku kikoyu]. Both Left and Right use utsu no yama and katano no mino, respectively, unnecessarily – anywhere would have done as well. Both poems are equal for this reason.’

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: 9

Left.

霜降れば若紫の色映へて菊は老せぬ花にぞ有ける

shimo fureba
wakamurasaki no
iro haete
kiku wa oisenu
hana ni zo arikeru
With frost-fall,
A fresh violet
Hue shines out;
Chrysanthemums show not their age –
Such blooms are they!

Kenshō.

497

Right (Win).

染めかふる籬の菊の紫は冬にうつろふ色にぞ有ける

somekauru
magaki no kiku no
murasaki wa
fuyu ni utsurou
iro ni zo arikeru
Stained a different hue,
The chrysanthemums by my lattice fence
With violet
Show the shift to winter –
Such is their hue!

Lord Tsune’ie.

498

Neither Left nor Right have any criticisms to make.

Shunzei’s judgement: Both poems are on ‘violet chrysanthemums’, and the Left’s ‘Chrysanthemums show not their age’ (kiku wa oisenu) is elegant [yū naru], but in terms of diction [kotoba] I find myself unable to accept [shokisubekarazu] ‘hue shines out’ (iro haete). The Right’s ‘Show the shift to winter – such is their hue!’ (fuyu ni utsurou iro ni zo arikeru), sounds pleasant [yoroshiku kikoe habere] and is in line with the Theory of the Five Elements. Violet is a colour obtained by adding black to red. Thus, it is a suitable hue to place between Autumn and Winter. The Right have composed upon such a conception most naturally [sono kokoro shizen ni yomaretaru]. It seems he is most knowledgeable about the elemental turning of the seasons [go gyō no rinten o shireru ni nitari]. The poem is pleasant in conception and configuration [kokoro sugata yoroshiki]. Again, the Right should win.