あきくともみどりのかへであらませばちらずぞあらましもみぢならねど
| aki ku tomo midori no kaede aramaseba chirazu zo aramashi momiji naranedo | Autumn comes, yet The maples in green Do display themselves, so I would you not scatter, For your leaves have not turned scarlet… |
65
しづはたにこひはすれどもこぬ人をまつむしのねぞあきはかなしき
| shizu wa ta ni koi wa suredomo konu hito o matsumushi no ne zo aki wa kanashiki | Peasants in the rice-fields Do fall in love, yet For a man who fails to come, I Pine crickets cries make Autumn all the more sad. |
66
Left (Win)
よそにても君をし三輪の市ならば行かふ賤に立もをくれじ
| yoso nite mo kimi o shi miwa no ichi naraba yukikau shizu ni tachi mo okureji | Far away At Miwa Market Had I met you, The peasants going back and forth Would not be arriving late… |
Lord Ari’ie
1197
Right
住わびて世をふる道は知らるとも難波の蘆のかりにだに見ん
| sumiwabite yo o furu michi wa shiraru tomo naniwa no ashi no kari ni dani min | Life is hard, as it is To make one’s way I know, yet At Naniwa the reeds I reap for a brief glimpse of you… |
Jakuren
1198
The Right state: the Left’s poem has no faults to indicate. The Left state: the Right’s poem is not bad.
In judgement: the Left’s ‘at Miwa had I met you’ (kimi o shi miwa no) is elegant, but the final section is lacks force. The Right’s reaping reeds at Naniwa has only a faint sense of a merchant. Thus, the Left’s ‘Miwa Market’ (miwa no ichi) wins.
Left (Win)
うら山し賤も妻木を立てつめりいつ休むべき恋にかあるらん
| urayamashi shizu mo tsumagi o tatetsumeri itsu yasumubeki koi ni ka aruran | How I envy The mountain man who kindling Has gathered all together! When, though, will I find respite From love? |
Lord Suetsune
1179
Right
思ひ出るかひもなければ山人はあはぬつま木にこりやしぬらん
| omoi’izuru kai mo nakereba yamabito wa awanu tsumagi ni kori ya shinuran | Remembering Deeply serves no point, but A mountain man I am not – unable to meet her – kindling Should I be cutting? |
Lord Tsune’ie
1180
Left and Right together state: we find no faults to indicate.
In judgement: although I wonder the extent to which the Left’s ‘how I envy’ (urayamashi) a mountain man resting is accurate, I also wonder whether this sort of back and forth upon the path is something which commonly appears, so the poem does not seem uninteresting. The Right’s ‘remembering deeply serves no point’ (omoi’izuru kai mo nakereba) does not sound particularly out of the ordinary. The Left wins somehow.
Left (Win)
恋路には風やはさそふ朝夕に谷の柴舟行帰れども
| koiji ni wa kaze ya wa sasou asa yū ni tani no shibabune yukikaeredomo | Along the path of love Does the wind beckon me? Morning and evening Along the valley boats of brushwood Go back and forth, yet… |
A Servant Girl
1177
Right
真柴こる賤にもあらぬ身なれども恋ゆへわれも歎きをぞ積む
| mashiba koru shizu ni mo aranu mi naredomo koi yue ware mo nageki o zo tsumu | Cutting kindling as A mountain man is not My lot, yet For love do I Stack up my grief in logs! |
The Supernumerary Master of the Empress’ Household Office
1178
Left and Right together state: there is no reason to make any criticisms here.
In judgement: although ‘beckon’ (sasou) in the Left’s poem should be ‘send’ (okuru), it is certainly elegant how it evokes thoughts of Captain Cheng travelling along the valley. The Right, beginning with ‘kindling’ (mashiba) and then having ‘grief in logs’ (nageki) sounds a little too similar, I think. The Left should win.
Left (Win).
冬ごもる賤の妻木に事添ひて風も折ける嶺の椎柴
| fuyugomoru shizu no tsumaki ni koto soite kaze mo orikeru mine no shiishiba |
Hemmed in by winter, Woodsmen make kindling, Just as The wind, too, does break The brushwood on the peak. |
569
Right.
冬寒み椎の眞柴を折鎖せど宿には風もたまらざりけり
| fuyu samumi shii no mashiba o orisasedo yado ni wa kaze mo tamarazarikeri |
In winter’s chill Evergreen brushwood I break to stop my door, yet My dwelling the wind Does naught to stop… |
570
The Right wonder about the use of ‘just as’ (koto soite). The Left merely state that the Right’s poem is ‘commonplace’ [tsune no koto nari].
Shunzei’s judgement: In the Left’s poem, should it not be ‘to the woodsmen’s kindling/add, will you?’ (shizu no tsumaki ni/soeyo to ya)? Using ‘just as’ (koto soite) does not seem a suitable expression in that it sounds somewhat pompous [yōyōshiku kikoyuru hodo]. As for the Right’s poem, ‘in winter’s chill’ (fuyu samumi) is an ordinary expression. ‘I break to stop my door, yet’ (orisasedo), too, lacks strong feeling. The final section of the Left’s poem, though, sounds pleasant [yoroshiku kokoyu]. It should win.
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… |
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… |
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.