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.
ochikata ya kumoi no yama no hototogisu ama tsu yoso ni mo nakiwataru kana
From the distant Mount within the clouds A cuckoo In yonder heavens Sings his song!
Lord Saburō 17
Right
ほととぎすしのだのもりのしのびねをたづねざりせばいかできかまし
hototogisu shinoda no mori no shinobine o tazunezariseba ikade kikamashi
A cuckoo In Shinoda’s sacred grove Lets out a hushed cry; Had I not come to visit here, How might I have heard it?
Ushigimi 18
In regards the poem of the Left’s ‘from the distant’ and what follows, extremely recently and colloquially, at the Nakatomi purification ceremony it seems there was a composition, ‘in the distance, below the trees so lush’. This diction is contrary to the expected style of waka and something which occurs only extremely rarely. Truly, one does not compose using such diction in a poetry match. The poem of the Right has nothing of interest about it, yet it also lack faults to mention, so it wins.
This round, neither poem appears bad. The Left has a novel style, while the Right seems cliched, but its expression is smooth. I wonder if we could see these as a tie.
shiranami no tatsuta no kawa ni shikiru kana yama no sakura wa chirinikerashi mo
Whitecaps On Tatsuta River Constant are! Upon it the mountain cherries Have scattered it seems…
Lady Kazusa 13
Right
花ざかりゆきとぞ見ゆるとしをへてよしのの山はふゆはふたたび
hanazakari yuki to zo miyuru toshi o hete yoshino no yama wa fuyu wa futatabi
The profusion of blossom Seems like snow, so Passing through the year To Mount Yoshino Winter comes twice!
Lady Shikibu 14
The poem of the Left’s ‘Whitecaps / On Tatsuta River / Constant are!’ is an expression I have not heard before. I have reviewed a large number of collections, and it has not been previously used. The Right’s poem is one from the Poetry Match held by the Sage of Ungo Temple.[i] Thus, it is difficult to determine a winner or loser.
The Left poem’s central line ‘constant are!’ sounds a bit distant. In addition, looking at the flowing of water is not part of the essential meaning of the topic. If one views the treetops, then one should say something like ‘Hidden in the mountains’ depths / These blossoms – would any wish to see them?’[1] –that’s an appropriate expression to be directed toward such blossoms. This poem is lacking in the sentiments required for a poetry match. The poem of the Right, stating that blossoms resemble snow, is something that has been used frequently and so sounds very well-worn, indeed. The final ‘Winter comes twice!’ also lacks elegance and, in addition, seems insufficient. I would think these should tie?
[1] A poem from a poetry competition held by Her Majesty, the Empress, during the Kanpyō period. 吹風と谷の水としなかりせば深山がくれの花を見ましや fuku kaze to / tani no mizu to shi / nakariseba / miyama gakure no / hana o mimashi ya ‘The gusting wind and / The valley’s waters / Were there none, then / Hidden in the mountains’ depths / These blossoms – would there be any chance to see them?’ Tsurayuki (KKS II: 118)
[i] It is unclear which poetry match Mototoshi is referring to here. The Sage of Ungo Temple (Ungoji no hijiri 雲居寺聖) was a sobriquet given to Senzai瞻西 (?-1127), after he reconstructed the temple in Higashiyama to the east of the capital after a long period of abeyance. There are surviving records of three poetry matches held at the temple in which Senzai took part: the ‘Poetry Match at the Ungo Temple’ (Ungoji uta’awase 雲居寺歌合); the ‘Poetry Match held at the Celebration after Sutra-copying at the Ungo Temple’ (Ungoji kechiengyō goen uta’awase 雲居寺結縁経後宴歌合); and the ‘Later Match Contest held at the Ungo Temple’ (Ungoji goban uta’awase 雲居寺後番歌合). All of these took place in Eikyū 4 (1116), but the first and last are fragmentary and only identifiable from the headnote to poems included in other collections. Ungoji kechiengyō goen uta’awase, however, is extant and was judged by Mototoshi, so we can definitively say that he was present. This match, though, took place in the Eighth Month, and so was devoted to autumn topics; Shikibu is also not listed among the participants, although a number of other court ladies well-known as poets do take part. The other two matches took place in the summer, or later in the autumn, and so it seems unlikely that a spring topic, such as cherry blossom, would have been assigned. The likelihood, therefore, is that either Mototoshi is referring to another match held at the temple in the spring, no record of which has survived, or that he has misremember the occasion on which he encountered Shikibu’s poem. A slight variant of this poem does occur in the anthology Konsen wakashū 今撰和歌集 (‘Anthology of Current Poetry’) (27), a private collection believed to have been put together by Kenshō in 1165-66, but the headnote there references this match, and there appear to be no records of this poem elsewhere in the canon.
sakurayama hana no sakari ni kaze fukeba kozue o koshite shiranami zo tatsu
On the mount of Cherries So fine is the blossom that When the wind does blow, Passing o’er the treetops, Whitecaps arise!
Controller’s Graduate 9
Right
この春ははなにこころのあくがれてこのもとにてもくらしつるかな
kono haru wa hana ni kokoro no akugarete ko no moto nite mo kurashitsuru kana
This springtime By the blossoms my heart Is captivated, and Beneath the trees Does dwell!
Kerin’in Graduate 10
Both Left and Right, in terms of diction, tone and style are superb with no faults at all. Thus, this is a tie.
The final section of the Left’s poem lacks fluency, yet it has conception. As for the Right’s poem, in order for one’s heart to be captivated by the blossom on every single treetop, one would need to be walking around. If one is resting peacefully beneath the trees, then one should say that one’s heart is captured. This section sounds erroneous, so the Left should win.
On a snowy day in the Second Month of Kenryaku 2 [March 1212], Senior Assistant Minister of Public Affairs Yukimitsu came to call at my house, saying he wanted to take a look at the scenery from a mountain retreat; many others were there, including Yukimura, Secretary of Yamajiro and we enjoyed ourselves late into the night with music and poetry. When it was time for him to return, I gifted Yukimitsu with a black horse and when I saw him the following day, I found a piece of paper tied to the horse’s mane, which read
この雪を分けて心の君にあればぬししる駒のためしをぞひく
kono yuki o wakete kokoro no kimi ni areba nushi shiru koma no tameshi o zo hiku
Through this snow To forge, the heart Had one, then A mount who knows his master well Is an example to follow!
kaminazuki tabi yuku hito mo izuku ni ka tachikakurubeki shigure moru yama
In the Godless Month For folk gone travelling Is there anywhere To hide themselves away, As the showers drip down on Mount Moru?
Lady Shinano 17
Right
くらぶ山いかがこゆべき神無月木の葉とともにしぐれ降るなり
kurabuyama ikaga koyubeki kaminazuki ko no ha to tomo ni shigure furu nari
Over gloomy Mount Kurabu How can I find my way across? In the Godless Month Together with the leaves from the trees A shower is falling…
Lord Nobutada 18
Toshiyori states: in the first poem, I do not feel that travelling is a natural continuation from ‘Godless Month’. ‘Is there anywhere’, too, does not sound smooth, does it. As for the second poem, if one mentions ‘gloomy Mount Kurabu’ and then follows it with ‘How can I find my way across?’, one should give a reason for the expression, whether it be because it’s gloomy, or because the sun is going down, otherwise it’s also unclear why one should be having difficulties crossing the mountain. If one is grieved by the falling leaves, then the poem sounds more like an ‘Scarlet Leaves’ one, and this is unreasonable. These both look to be about the same.
Mototoshi states: ‘showers drip down on Mount Moru’ is a bit better than ‘gloomy Mount Kurabu’, isn’t it. I feel it’s only logical that there should be no shadows in which one could hide oneself away.
