Same as before.
ふりはへて折りに来たればこまにしきくれなゐふかき岡つつじかな
furihaete orinikitareba koma nishiki kurenai kaki okatsutsuji kana | I exhaust myself When I come to pick Goryeo brocade Scarlet painted Azaleas on the hillside! |
Sagami
Left
駒なべてめも春の野にまじりなむ若菜摘みつる人は有りやと
koma nabete me mo haru no no ni majirinamu wakana tsumitsuru hito wa ari ya to | Mounts all over The springtime meadows before my eyes Are mixed; A’plucking of fresh herbs, Are there folk there, I wonder? |
21[1]
Right
鶯の谷よりいづる声なくは春くることを誰かつげまし
uguisu no tani yori izuru koe naku wa haru kuru koto o tare ka tsugemashi | If the bush-warbler From the valleys Did not sing his song, That spring is coming Would anyone announce it at all? |
22[2]
[1] Shisen manyōshū 13; Kokin rokujō II: 1137, ‘Springtime meadows’
[2] A minor variant of this poem occurs in Kokinshū (I: 14), attributed to Ōe no Chisato: 鶯の谷よりいづる声なくは春来ることを誰かしらまし uguisu no / tani yori izuru / koe naku wa / haru kuru koto o / tare ka shiramashi ‘If the bush-warbler / From the valleys / Did not sing his song, / That spring is coming / Would anyone realise at all?’; also Shinsen man’yōshū 261.
Left (Win)
唐国の虎臥す野邊に入るよりもまどふ戀路の末ぞあやうき
karakuni no tora fusu nobe ni iru yori mo madou koiji no sue zo ayauki |
In far Cathay are Meadows where tigers lie, But rather than entering there, The confusing paths of love Are, at the end, more dangerous… |
Lord Ari’ie
1063
Right
我宿は人もかれ野の淺茅原通ひし駒の跡もとゞめず
wa ga yado wa hito mo kareno no asajiwara kayoishi koma no ato mo todomezu |
At my home Is only a withered field Of cogon grass; The mount who once did cross it Has left no lingering tracks… |
Ietaka
1064
The Gentlemen of the Right state: how can love be dangerous? The Gentlemen of the Left state: the Right’s poem has no faults to mention.
In judgement: saying that the ‘paths of love are, at the end’ (koiji no sue) dangerous is perfectly commonplace. ‘Is only a withered field of cogon grass’ (hito mo kareno no asajiwara) seems to simply have taken the poem ‘Sedge fields lie / Around the estate of Fushimi, / All long overgrown; / He who passed across them / Has left no tracks at all…’ and swapped in ‘mount who once did cross it’ (kayoishi koma). Changing a man into a mount is discomposing, indeed. Again, the Left should win.
Left (Tie)
いかにしてつれなき中を渡るべき足の音もせぬ駒のありとも
ika ni shite tsurenaki naka o watarubeki ashi no oto mo senu koma no aritomo |
How, indeed, To one so heartless Can I make my way across? Even a silent-footed Steed had I to ride… |
Lord Suetsune
1059
Right (Win)
道遠み妹がりがりいそぐその駒に草取り飼はんなづみもぞする
michi tōmi imogari isogu sono koma ni kusa torikawan nazumi mo zo suru |
Long is the road To go swiftly seek my darling, so For my steed I’ll go gather grasses That he not tire along the way… |
The Supernumerary Master of the Empress’ Household Office
1060
The Gentlemen of the Right state: we wonder about the appropriateness of making one’s way across when there is no ‘bridge’? The Gentlemen of the Left state: there are no faults to indicate in the Right’s poem.
In judgement: the gentleman of the Left has composed his poem referring to the conception of the Man’yō poem ‘A silent-footed / Colt I’d have: / In Kashitsuka, / The clapper bridge at Mama / To ceaselessly traverse!’, but must have misplaced the bridge somewhere. Truly, I do wonder how it is possible to make one’s way across in the absence of a bridge. Although to say ‘for my steed I’ll go gather grasses’ (sono koma ni kusa torikawan) is something commonplace, doing it to prevent one’s mount getting tired, despite the length of the journey, seems better than lacking a bridge.