Left (Tie).
惜しみかね秋暮ぬとは小男鹿の音せで人に告るなりけり
| oshimikane aki kurenu to wa saoshika no oto sede hito ni tuguru narikeri |
Unable to bear The end of autumn The stag Falls silent, and to man The end relates… |
473
Right.
明日よりや荻の葉あへず霜枯て秋をば夢と驚かすべき
| asu yori ya ogi no ha aezu shimogarete aki o ba yume to odorokasubeki |
From tomorrow The fronds of silver-grass, unbearably, Will be frost-burned; That Autumn is but a dream Will be clear to all. |
The Provisional Master of the Empress Household Office.
474
Neither Left nor Right have any criticisms to make this round.
Shunzei’s judgement: Neither team has identified any faults with the other’s poem this round. However, the Left’s ‘The stag falls silent, and to man the end relates’ (oto sede hito ni tsuguru) is unclear, isn’t it? [obotsukanaku ya] The Right’s ‘fronds of silver-grass, unbearably’ (ogi no ha aezu) is also impossible to understand [ekokoroehaberanu]. Thus, the round must tie.
Left (Win).
夕さればそゝや下葉も安からで露は袂に荻の上風
| yūsareba soso ya shitaba mo yasukarade tsuyu wa tamoto ni ogi no uwakaze |
When the evening comes, Rustling underleaves Are restless; Dewdrops on the sleeves: Wind o’er the silver-grass. |
379
Right.
暮行けば野邊も一つに露滿ちて蟲の音になる庭の淺茅生
| kureyukeba nobe mo hitotsu ni tsuyu michite mushi no ne ni naru niwa no asajū |
When evening falls The plains, too, are completely Dew-drenched; Insects sing from The cogon grasses in my garden. |
380
The Right remark that ‘it is not clear what the “underleaves” (shitaba) belong to until the end of the poem’. The Left have a number of criticisms: ‘In the Right’s poem, it sounds as if the “cogon grass” (asaji) becomes “insects”. In addition, the topic of this poem is not “Garden Huts”. Furthermore, the poem lacks any expression conveying the emotional overtones of the topic – particularly with “the plains, too, are completely” (nobe mo hitotsu ni).’
Shunzei’s judgement: It is standard expression to begin a poem with ‘underleaves’, when concluding with ‘silver-grass’ as in the Left’s case. However, ‘rustling’ (sosoya) seems unnecessary in this poem. It seems a rather forced interpretation to think the cogon grass is turning into insects, seeing as this is not something that happens in nature. That this is a poem more suited to the topic of ‘Garden Huts’, though, is an unavoidable fault. So, while I cannot be satisfied with the inclusion of ‘rustling’, the final section of this poem is fine. It wins.
Left (Win).
降り暮す小萩がもとの庭の雨を今夜は荻の上に聞く哉
| furikurasu kohagi ga moto no niwa no ame o koyoi wa ogi no ue ni kiku kana |
Falling with the darkness To the solitary bush-clover’s roots The rain within my garden Tonight, on the silver grass I hear. |
369
Right.
荻原や野邊の秋風末分てさびしさ添ふる村雨の聲
| ogiwara ya nobe no aki kaze sue wakete sabishisa souru murasame no koe |
Silver grass meadows – Across the fields the autumn wind Brushes the fronds; Adding loneliness to The whisper of showers… |
370
The Right say, ‘In the Left’s poem, it sounds as if the rain falls in daytime on “the solitary bush-clover’s roots” (kohagi ga moto) and at night “on the silver grass” (ogi no ue).’ The Left have no criticisms of the Right’s poem.
Shunzei judges, ‘I see no fault in saying that the “rain falling with the darkness” (furikurasu ame) is something one can see on the bush clover’s roots during the day, but only hear at night. As for the Right, “Across the fields the autumn wind brushes the fronds” (nobe no aki kaze sue wakete) is superb in construction. In the final line “whisper of showers” (murasame no koe) , though, “whisper” is an excessively direct personalisation, is it not? The spirit of the Left’s “on the silver grass” must win.”
Left (Win).
ひとり寢る葦の丸屋の下露に床を傡べて鶉鳴く也
| hitori nuru ashi no maruya no shimo tsuyu ni toko o narabete uzura nakunari |
Sleeping singly In a reed-roofed hut, Dripped with dew, Beside my bed The quails are crying. |
345
Right.
秋風に靡く尾花の夕露や鶉が閨の雨と散るらむ
| akikaze ni nabiku obana no yūzuyu ya uzura ga neya no ame to chiruramu |
In the autumn breeze Flutter fronds of silvergrass, Scattering dewdrops On the quails’ roost – How like rain… |
The Provisional Master of the Empress’ Household Office.
346
The Right state that the Left’s poem has no faults. The Left state that, ‘“On the quails’ roost – how like rain” (uzura ga neya no ame) suggests that this is what it actually is.’
Shunzei disagrees: ‘It is not the case that uzura ga neya no ame definitely implies that it is actually rain, particularly with the scene set by dew on silvergrass. However, “beside my bed” (toko o narabete) is particularly attractive in expression. It should win.’
Left.
打ち寄する浪より秋の龍田川さても忘れぬ柳陰かな
| uchiyosuru nami yori aki no tatsutagawa satemo wasurenu yanagikage kana |
Approaching on The waves, comes autumn to The Tatsuta River; And yet, I cannot forget The willows’ shade. |
311
Right.
秋淺き日影に夏は殘れども暮るゝ籬は荻の上風
| aki asaki hikage ni natsu wa nokoredomo kururu magaki wa ogi no uwakaze |
Faintly autumnal is The sunlight, with summer Yet remaining; At evening by the rough-woven fence Blows a breeze o’er the silver-grass. |
312
The Right say the Left’s poem is ‘particularly good.’ The Left state that, ‘“Faintly autumnl” (aki asaki) grates on the ear, and we also cannot grasp the use of “evening by the rough-woven fence” (kururu magaki).’
Shunzei states, ‘The Left’s “approaching on the waves” (nami yori aki no), seems particularly charming, but when taken together with “willows’ shade” (yanagi kade)– the Tatsuta River has long been the subject of composition on “flowing scarlet autumn leaves”, and even now this gives a slightly poetic effect; “willows’ shade” has been used in composition, both in ancient times and more recently, but does it not seem commonplace now? The Right’s poem is in the same vein as that of the Right in Round One Hundred and Fifty-Two, yet I do not find “faintly autumnal” to be unpleasant. “Evening by the rough-woven fence”, too, has charm. The Left’s poem has vocabulary in accordance with the contents; the Right unusual expressions. In this combination, the round must tie.’
Composed on silver-grass at the Poetry Competition in the Garden of the Empress Ikuhōmon’in.
ものごとに秋のけしきはしるけれどもまづ身にしむはおぎのうは風
| monogoto ni aki no kesiki Fa sirukeredomo madu mi ni simu Fa ogi no uFakaze |
In many things Is the feel of autumn Made known, yet Most affecting of all Is the wind o’er the silver-grass. |
Minister of the Treasury Yukimune.
Round One-Hundred and Fifty-Two: Autumn – Lingering Heat.
Left.
水無月の照る日や影を殘しけん今朝吹く風の秋に知られぬ
| minazuki no teru hi ya kage o nokoshiken kesa fuku kaze no aki ni shirarenu |
The Waterless Month’s Shining sun and light Seem to linger on; To this morning’s blowing breeze Is autumn quite unknown. |
303
Right (Win).
秋を淺み照る日を夏とおぼめけば暮行空の荻の上風
| aki o asami teru hi o natsu to obomekeba kureuyuku sora no ogi no uwakaze |
In autumn ‘tis weak, yet The shining sun, of summer Yet has the feel; From the dusking sky comes The wind o’er the silver-grass. |
The Provisional Master of the Empress Household Office.
304
The Right state, ‘It would have been far better to have “This morning’s blowing breeze brings no knowledge of autumn” (kesa fuku kaze no aki o shirasenu).’ The Left reply, ‘In the Right’s poem, the initial section fails to express the topic, and the latter part seems to have no purpose.’
Shunzei’s judgement is: ‘With regard to the Left’s poem, I cannot agree that “brings no knowledge of autumn” is any better than “is autumn quite unknown”. As for the Right, in general it is not considered that “the shining sun, of summer yet has the feel” (teru hi o natsu to obomekeba) provides suitable praise to the lingering heat of autumn. However, even in poems on the theme of lingering heat, it is appropriate to praise the coolness of early evening. Does not “From the dusking sky comes the wind o’er the silver-grass” (kureuyuku sora no ogi no uwakaze) do this? It must win.’
Left.
風通ふ扇に秋のさそはれてまづ手なれぬる閨の月影
| kaze kayou ōgi ni aki no sasowarete mazu te narenuru neya no tsukikage |
The breeze wafted By my fan to autumn Beckons; Accustomed before me to have A moonlit bed. |
261
Right (Win).
うちはらふ扇の風のほどなきに思ひこめたる荻の音かな
| uchiharau ōgi no kaze no hodo naki ni omoikometaru ogi no oto kana |
Sweeping My fan, the breeze Ceaselessly Brings thoughts of Rustling silver grass. |
262
Both teams consider the other’s poems to be ‘not bad’ this round.
Shunzei, however, finds fault with both: ‘The Left’s “bed” (neya) does occur in both Chinese poetry and our own, however, I cannot help but find it undesirable. The Right’s “Sweeping my fan” (uchiharau ōgi) and “Brings thoughts of silver grass” (omoikometaru ogi) are both fine examples of mangled expression, and are, moreover, unclear. Thus, “a moonlit bed” must win, I feel.
Left (Tie).
はるばると荻の燒原立ひばり霞のうちに聲あがるなり
| harubaru to ogi no yakehara tatsu hibari kasumi no uchi ni koe agarunari |
Into the distance, far, The silver-grass plain is aflame; A skylark takes flight, and From within the haze, its Song soars. |
93
Right (Tie).
春深き野邊の霞の下風に吹かれてあがる夕雲雀哉
| haru fukaki nobe no kasumi no shita kaze ni fukarete agaru yū hibari kana |
Now is the height of spring, and Haze lies o’er the plains; The breeze beneath Gusts, lifting A skylark, at eventide. |
94
The Right have no comments to make about the Left’s poem, but the Left say they are ‘unused to hearing’ the expression ‘breeze beneath the haze’ (kasumi no shita kaze), and then continue to ask, facetiously, ‘Do you mean to say that skylarks don’t soar without a breeze?’ The Right reply that, ‘when the wind is blowing gently, it appears as if the bird is lifted by it – that is the scene.’
Shunzei states that Left’s poem, with its essence of the skylark’s call emerging from the haze is ‘truly charming’. He did ‘wonder’ about the Right’s essence of the bird being lifted by the breeze, can see the scene of a gentle ‘breeze beneath the haze across the plains’ (nobe no kasumi no shita kaze), and is attracted by both sides’ poems. Thus, there are no winners or losers this round.