恨みわびまたじと思ふゆふべだに猶山のはに月はいでにけり
| uramiwabi mataji to omou yūbe dani nao yama no ha ni tsuki wa idenikeri | Lonely and hating him, ‘I’ll wait no more,’ I think, but Even on such an evening, Still from the mountain’s edge The moon has appeared—will he… |
520
Tag Archives: mountain
Kinkai wakashū 519
Eien narabō uta’awase 22
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’,
Eien narabō uta’awase 17
Round Three
Left (Win)
いかにしてあきはひかりのまさるらんおなじみかさの山のはの月
| ika ni shite aki wa hikari no masaruran onaji mikasa no yama no ha no tsuki | Why is it that In autumn your light Should be best of all? Though always upon Mikasa Mountain’s edge you rest, O moon… |
Retired from the world
33
Right
秋のよはくもるといへどこと月のさやけきよりもさやけかりけり
| aki no yo wa kumoru to iedomo koto tsuki no sayakeki yori mo sayakarikeri | On an autumn night Cloudy it may be, yet Compared to another moon’s Brightness, ‘tis still More bright. |
Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
34
Both the configuration and diction of the Left’s poem seem comprehensible. The poem of the Right’s use of ‘moon’ is dubious and blameworthy. Thus, the Left wins.
The poem of the Left doesn’t sound bad. I feel it has a well-trodden ending for a poem and it reminds me of the old line ‘what is this light’[1]—it’s extremely charming. In the Right’s poem, I wonder if ‘another moon’ might be referring to the calendar month, but listening to it, it really does sound as if there are two moons in the sky! Furthermore, the poem lacks fluency and is further case of a hasty retreat from the topic, isn’t it. It’s an excess of technique to say that the autumn moon is not inferior to any other, even if it’s covered with cloud.
[1] Composed for the Palace Poetry Match held on the 10th day of the Eighth Month, Kanna 1. いつもみる月ぞとおもへどあきのよはいかなるかげをそふるなるらん itsumo miru / tsuki zo to omoedo / aki no yo wa / ika naru kage o / sourunaruran ‘Always, do I see / The moon, I thought, yet / On an autumn night / What is this light / That trails over all?’ Fujiwara no Nagayoshi (GSIS IV: 256)
Eien narabō uta’awase 15
The Moon
Round One
Left (Win)
いたまよりねざめのとこにもる月をこひしきひととおもはましかば
| itama yori nezame no toko ni moru tsuki o koishiki hito to omowamashikaba | Between the boards, Waking me in my bed Drips moonlight— The man I love If only it did more than bring to mind… |
Lord Dainagon
29
Right
くれはどりふたむらやまをきて見ればめもあやにこそ月も見えけれ
| kurehadori futamurayama o kite mireba me mo aya ni koso tsuki mo miekere | When the weave of twilight Upon Futamura Mountain One comes to see, Another pattern fills the eye— Bright moonlight. |
Lord Chūnagon
30
The poem of the Left has an extremely refined configuration, but is lacking much of a conception of the moon, and has a much greater one of love. The poem of the Right has a moving conception, but it is about scarlet leaves that one says ‘another pattern fills the eye’. There have been no compositions to date utilizing this about the moon. As both poems have dubious elements, I feel they are of the same quality.
I must say that the initial section of the poem of the Left, ‘between the boards’, is something that not even the poets of bygone days placed at the beginning of their poems. I would say that such expressions as ‘between the boards of a ruined house’ sound blended, implying that the appearance within is fine. Perhaps the poet mistook this? In addition, I do not feel that this is a moon poem, and would have to say that it’s a love one. It really is very odd, isn’t it—suddenly including a love poem here. The poem of the Right has nothing about it worth mentioning, yet it appears to be a moon poem superficially. There’s nothing for it but, faced with the poem of the Left, which beats the hastiest of hasty retreats and ignores the essential meaning of the topic, but to make it the winner!
Eien narabō uta’awase 12
Round Five
Left
ほととぎすはなたちばなにやどるともなのらざりせばいかでしらまし
| hototogisu hanatachibana ni yadoru to mo nanorazariseba ikade shiramashi | The cuckoo Among the orange blossom May make his lodging, but If he fails to announce himself How would one ever know? |
Controller’s Graduate
23
Right
さよなかにみふねの山のほととぎすほのかになきてすぎぬなるかな
| sayo naka ni mifune no yama no hototogisu honoka ni nakite suginu naru kana | In the midst of a night so brief Upon Mifune Mountain, A cuckoo, Faintly crying, Has passed his time! |
Kerin’in Graduate
24
It is entirely impossible to decide between these two poems.
Neither of these poems is particularly bad. The Left flows smoothly and is elegant; the Right starts with ‘Mifune Mountain’ and then continues with ‘faintly’, which certainly does not lack skill. Thus, I would say that these should tie, although this will doubtless be a source of some dissatisfaction to the writer of the Right.
Eien narabō uta’awase 07
Round Seven
Left
しらなみのたつたのかはにしきるかな山のさくらはちりにけらしも
| 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.
Entō ōn’uta’awase 36
Round Thirty-Six
Left
秋をおもふ涙やもろき夕月夜木葉がくれに鹿ぞ鳴くなる
| aki o omou namida ya moroki yūzukuyo ko no hagakure ni shika zo nakunaru | Filled with autumn feelings Do tears drip down? On a moonlit evening Hidden ‘mong the leafy trees, A stag does call. |
Dōchin
71
Right (Win)
を山田に風の吹きしくいなむしろよなよな鹿のふしどなりけり
| oyamada ni kaze no fukishiku inamushiro yonayona shika no fushidonarikeri | Across the mountain paddies The wind blows, spreading The rice into a coverlet, where Night after night, the stag Does lay his head. |
Dharma Master Nyokan
72
The Left’s poem does not appear to have any faults worth indicating, yet the Right’s poem is still more pleasant. It should win.
