はるたつとおもひもあへぬあさいでにいつしかかすむおとは山かな
| haru tatsu to omoi mo aenu asa ide ni itsu shika kasumu otowayama kana | Spring’s arrival I had not felt, but This morning, stepping out, Suddenly all hazed o’er was Otowa Mountain![i] |
[i] See: Composed on the day spring arrived. 逢坂の關をや春もこえつらむ音羽の山のけさはかすめる ausaka no / seki o ya haru mo / koetsuramu / otowa no yama no / kesa wa kasumeru ‘At Meeting Hill / The barrier will spring, too, / Pass beyond? / In the Otowa Mountains / This morning is all hazed.’ Tachibana no Toshitsuna (Goshūishū I: 4)
Willow
Left (Win in a certain text)
あをやぎのえだにかかれるいとなくははるのくるをもしらずやあらまし
| aoyagi no eda ni kakareru ito naku wa haru no kuru o mo shirazu ya aramashi | If, from the green willow Branches hanging Were there no threads, then Of spring’s coming Would there be any knowing? |
15
Right (Win)
あさごとにまづもみるかなあをやぎのいとはよるよるいろやまさると
| asa goto ni mazu mo miru kana aoyagi no ito wa yoruyoru iro ya masaru to | Every single morning First will I behold them! For the green willow Threads after each night Might be the best hue of all? |
16
Sent in the morning after he had first visited the Fifth Lady of the Hon’in mansion.
あさまだき露わけきつる衣手のひるまばかりにこひしきやなぞ
| asa madaki tuyu wakekituru koromode no Firu ma bakari ni koFisiki ya na zo | So early in the morning Did I make my way through the dew Upon my sleeves, By brief noon will dry, but Why do I yearn for you more, even so? |
Taira no Yukitoki
Topic unknown.
さをしかのあさたつ野べの秋はぎに玉とみるまでおけるしらつゆ
| saoshika no asa tatsu nobe no akihagi ni tama to miru made okeru shiratsuyu | Stags Stand in the morning meadows, where Upon the autumn bush clover As gemstones appearing Have fallen silver dewdrops. |
Middle Counsellor Yakamochi[i]
[i] This poem is included in Man’yōshū (VIII: 1598).
Snow
Round One
Left (Win)
たまのきにははそのもりもなりにけりふるしらゆきのきえぬかぎりは
| tama no ki ni hahaso no mori mo narinikeri furu shirayuki no kienu kagiri wa | Into trees of gems has The oak forest Turned While the falling snow Does not fade away… |
Lord Dainagon
43[i]
Right
ゆきふればあをばの山も見がくれてときはのきをやけさはをるらむ
| yuki fureba aoba no yama mo migakurete tokiwa no ki o ya kesa wa oruramu | Snow has fallen, so The verdant mountain Vanishes from sight— Might the evergreens Be broken the morning? |
Lord Chūnagon
44[ii]
The poem of the Left is entirely lacking in any interest. Isn’t this a sage’s jewelled tree? It really leaves me grief-stricken. The poem of the Right contains two faults in a single work. First, this is not the right time of year to be referring to a ‘verdant mountain’. Second, ‘vanishes from sight’ refers to disappearing in water. In the Collection of a Myriad Leaves ‘vanishing from sight’ is written as ‘hidden in the water’. Thus we have lines such as, ‘swarming frogs hiding in the weeds beneath the waves’. There are no prior poems mentioning ‘mountains vanishing from sight’ in either ancient or modern times.
On the matter of the ‘tree of gems’, I heard a long time ago that this might have appeared in an important source, but as this is something I know little about, even if this is a fault, it’s difficult for me to say anything about it. Well, in any case, it doesn’t sound bad. Would someone who knows all about this compose poorly? The Right’s poem lacks elegance, but it doesn’t sound like it has any other faults. It’s inferior to the Left only in ornamentation.
[i] Some sources identify Mototoshi as the composer of this poem.
[ii] This poem is included in Toshiyori’s personal collection, Sanboku kikashū (670), with the headnote, ‘Composed in place of someone for a poetry match in Nara’,
Love
Left
淡く濃く染めはじめたるもみぢ葉になどわが恋をおもひそむらむ
| usuku koku somehajimetaru momijiba ni nado wa ga koi o omoisomuramu | Both lightly and deeply Have begun to colour The scarlet leaves, so Why should my love Seem to occupy my thought so? |
25
Right
白露のおきてわかれし朝より消えかへりても恋ひわたるかな
| shiratsuyu no okite wakareshi ashita yori kiekaeritemo koiwataru kana | Silver dewdrops Fell as we parted— With the morning They may vanish, yet My love for you continues on! |
26
Round Six
Left
あきの夜のありあけのつきはくまもなしあさくらやまもなのみこそあらめ
| aki no yo no ariake no tsuki wa kuma mo nashi asakurayama mo na nomi koso arame | At an autumn night’s Dawn, the moon Has not a cloud before it; The Mount of Morning Dark May be so in name alone! |
Cell of Fragrant Cloud
39
Right (Win)
秋の月あかしのうらはなびきもにすむわれからのかずも見つべし
| aki no tsuki akashi no ura wa nabikimo ni sumu warekara no kazu mo mitsubeshi | The autumn moon is Bright above Akashi Bay; Among the trailing seaweed Dwell tiny shrimp, Their number now clear to my eyes. |
Cell of Compassionate Light
40
The poem of the Left is an entirely tedious composition. It simply states that a cloudless autumn moon does not fit with the place name, Mount Asakura. The moon at ‘dawn’ is the same as the moon at ‘dawntime’, while Mount Asakura is used when dawn has completely finished. As for the poem of the Right, while the moon is described as bright, it doesn’t seem right to then make it a poem about trailing seaweed—this does not seem charming at all. This round, too, there’s not much more I can say than that.
As I have already mentioned, ‘moon at dawn’ in the poem of the Left is an expression which it is impossible to say is praiseworthy. Even more so, really, the concluding ‘may be so in name alone’ just says ‘is so in name alone’, doesn’t it? It’s contrary to reason to say that it’s fluent and thus, and I say this reluctantly, it’s difficult to understand. As for the Right’s poem, I don’t understand this either: it ought to be ‘their numbers, too, I have been able to see’—saying ‘their number now clear to my eyes’ implies that you haven’t previously been able to see them up to that point, and it’s vague about when you have. Even so, it’s getting light, so the light of the moon at dawn seems superior.
