When I had not visited her for some time, after we had truly become close:
風吹かぬうらみやすらむうしろめたのどかに思ふ荻の葉の音
| kaze Fukanu urami ya suramu usirometa nodoka ni omoFu ogi no Fa no oto |
That no wind has blown your way, Do you resent it? O, that does concern me! Simply recall The sound of silver-grass leaves… |
While the courtiers were wondering about who should reply, I happened to come along:
風のまに誰結びけむ花すゝき上葉の露もこゝろをくらし
| kaze no ma ni tare musubikemu Fana susuki uFaba no tuyu mo kokorowokurasi |
In the space ’tween gusts of wind Who, indeed, entwined The silver grass; Dewfall on the upper leaves Suggests a constrained heart… |
On receiving a stem of silver grass from that growing before Seiryōden, the Mistress of His Majesty’s Breakfast composed this poem and fastened it to it, saying, ‘Who might have sent this?’
吹く風の心も知らで花すゝきそらに結べる人やたれぞも
| Fuku kaze no kokoro mo sirade Fana susuki sora ni musuberu Fito ya tare zo mo |
Of the gusting wind’s Intentions, I know nothing; Silver grass So idly entwined, but Who has done it? |
Silver Grass.
軒端なるいさゝむら竹それならでそよぐか夜半の荻の上風
| nokiba naru isasamuratake sore narade soyogu ka yowa no ogi no uwakaze |
Close by my eaves, A grove of young bamboo: ’Tis no you, Stirred past midnight, but Wind atop the silver grass. |
The apartment where Fujiwara no Toshimoto had lived when he was Middle Captain in the Right Imperial Bodyguards became vacant after his death and, late one autumn night when Arisuke was returning to the palace he glanced inside, noticing that the gardens which had been planted were growing in disorderly profusion and, as he had been in service there himself, he recalled times long past and composed:
君がうへし一群すゝき蟲のねのしげき野邊ともなりにけるかな
| kimi ga uFesi Fito mura sususki musi no ne no sigeki nobe to mo narinikeru kana | My Lord, you planted A single clump of silver grass: The insects’ cries Are as profuse as the swath It has become… |
Miharu no Arisuke