Round Seven
Left (Win)
しらゆきのふりしきぬればかづらきやくめのいはばしそことしられず
| shirayuki no furishikinureba kazuraki ya kume no iwabashi soko to shirarezu | Snow, so white Has fallen, scattering Upon Kazuraki, that The broken stone bridge of Kume Is there no one knows at all. |
Lady Kazusa
55
Right
まきもくのあなしひばらもうづもれてかかるみゆきもふればふりけり
| makimoku no anashi hibara no uzumorete kakaru miyuki mo fureba furikeri | In Makimoku Anashi’s cypress groves Are buried, Such a fair fall of snow Has there been. |
Lady Shikibu
56
The Left has neither positives nor negatives. Up to ‘the broken stone bridge of Kume’ shows some imagination. It feels overly remote. The Right’s ‘Anshi’s cypress groves’ is something I’ve not encountered in a poem before. The standard usage is ‘cypress groves of Anashi’. Compared to this, I feel the expression is more unsatisfactory. ‘Such a fair fall of snow / Has there been’ is surprising, too, and not something I’m accustomed to seeing, so the Left seems a bit better at present.
The Left does not appear to have any significant faults. ‘That’ in ‘upon Kazuraki, that’ sounds a bit distant. If you’re talking about a bridge, you should say that you can see across it, shouldn’t you. It is a bridge which it’s impossible to cross, so that’s difficult to say. The Right’s expression ‘Anashi’s cypress groves’ is pedestrian so I would have preferred it omitted. In addition, the final ‘has there been’ feels commonplace. A win for the Left, perhaps.
Round Six
Left
ふるゆきに山のほそみちうづもれてまれにとひこし人もかよはず
| furu yuki ni yama no hosomichi uzumorete mare ni toikoshi hito mo kayowazu | With the falling snow The mountain’s narrow pathways Are buried; But rarely did he visit and now Cannot make his way at all. |
Cell of Fragrant Cloud
53
Right
あしたつるみわのひばらにゆきふかみみやぎひくをのかよひぢもなし
| ashi tatsuru miwa no hibara ni yuki fukami miyagi hiku o no kayoiji mo nashi | Reeds stand tall in Miwa, where the cypress groves Are deep with snow; To cut sacred timber, the woodsman Has no path to tread at all. |
Cell of Compassionate Light
54
The Left’s poem, in terms of style and diction, entirely grasps the way someone might feel. What a sense of grief! The Right’s poem is composition that fairly drips and delves into playfulness, but in so doing lacks feeling. Truly, the former poem has superlative qualities, resembling a black dragon’s pearl![i] Thus, the Left must win.
The Left does seem to have been composed but simply stated. It possesses a calm elegance. The Right seems to have been created after a great deal of thought. This poem shows effort and the former such calm that I wish to declare them a tie. This may enrage the poets, but the ignorant may give the appearance of being knowledgeable, as they say. I wonder who composed these…
[i] Riju 驪珠 as an abbreviation of riryū no tama 驪龍の珠 (‘black dragon’s pearl’). Mototoshi uses this analogy deliberately as black dragons were associated with winter. The pearl, which they were often depicted as holding or being located in their throat, was a symbol of the dragon’s spiritual development and a marker of its immortality. This is thus an effusive statement of praise for Shōchō’s poem.
Round Five
Left (Tie)
うちきらしあまぎるそらと見しほどにやがてつもれる雪の白山
| uchikirashi amagiru sora to mishi hodo ni yagate tsumoreru yuki no shirayama | Suddenly concealed By mist, the skies I glimpsed and In a moment drifted Snow covered Shira Mountain with white. |
Controller’s Graduate
51
Right
としをへてふし見の山にふるゆきはとこめづらにもおもしろきかな
| toshi o hete fushimi no yama ni furu yuki wa tokomezura ni mo omoshiroki kana | Through all the passing years Upon Fushimi Mountain The falling snow Feels ever fresh And full of charm! |
Kerin’in Graduate
52
The poem of the Left’s ‘Suddenly concealed / By mist, the skies’ is a clear case of repeating the same meaning. In addition, ‘snow covered Shira Mountain’ is one which is snow-capped regardless of whether it’s summer or winter. It’s not a mountain where one would be startled at seeing it ‘suddenly concealed’. The poem of the Right says that ‘through all the passing years the estate at Fushimi…feels ever fresh’, which seems as if this poem is specifying a period when this applies. It’s certainly a bit of a reach to say that this would be charming, but it’s not incongruous. Thus, I make this a tie.
I am unable to grasp the sense of the Left poem’s ‘suddenly concealed’. If it had been ‘concealed with falling’ then that would be better. In addition, I don’t understand the final ‘snow covered Shira Mountain’ either. I would have preferred it if the order had been ‘Shira Mountain’s snow’, but putting the ‘snow’ first seems to lack fluency and so, regretfully I would change this.
The Right’s ‘Fushimi Mountain’ is difficult to understand. It seems that ‘estate’ is a more standard composition, and ‘mountain’ is a novel usage. Having ‘Fushimi’ ‘feel fresh’ is evidence of thought, but even so, ‘mountain’ is vague.
Round Four
Left
水のおももみなふるゆきにうづもれてたちゐやなげくいけのにほどり
| mizu no omo mo mina furu yuki ni uzumorete tachi’i ya nageku ike no niodori | The surface of the water Entirely by the falling snow Is buried— Do they sorrow for their diving, The grebes around the pond? |
Cell of the Fragrant Elephant
49
Right (Win)
みよしのに雪ふりぬれば我がやどのならのかれ葉はいとどさびしも
| miyoshino ni yuki furinureba wa ga yado no nara no kareba wa itodo sabishi mo | In fair Yoshino Snow has fallen, so At my house The withered oak leaves are All the more alone… |
Cell of the Everlasting Truth
50
The poem of the Left’s ‘surface of the water entirely buried by snow’ is something that I have never heard before. ‘Grieving grebes’, too, are something I have yet to encounter. Really, what sort of poem is this? As for the poem of the Right, while ‘all the more alone’ and what precedes it fails to sound elegant, at the current time I feel it’s a little bit superior.
It’s extremely difficult to conceive of the surface of a body of what which hasn’t yet frozen being buried in snow. If snow fell extremely heavily, then, surely, the water would overflow, then freeze, and then get buried, wouldn’t it? I might be going a little too far here, though. As for the Right’s poem, is ‘my house’ in Yoshino? Or is it on an estate elsewhere? If it’s on an estate, is the poet looking at the falling snow and imagining Yoshino? It’s vague. Then again, as the poem doesn’t say explicitly that the oaks are buried by the snow, is it only imagining this? How might something be which has not been seen for sure? The oaks here, too, would be like that, as snow is something which doesn’t distinguish where it falls…
Round Three
Left
おぼつかないづれいづちのみちならむしをりも見えずふれるしらゆき
| obotsukana izure izuchi no michi naramu shiori mo miezu fureru shirayuki | How strange! Which is which Path, I wonder? Even the laden branches go unseen In the falling snow, so white. |
Retired from the World
47
Right
雪ふかみとなりのさともうづもれてけぶりのみこそしるしなりけれ
| yuki fukami tonari no sato mo uzumorete keburi nomi koso shirushi narikere | So deep the snow, that The estate next door Is buried; Trails of smoke are the only Sign it’s there! |
Senior Assistant Minister Past Lecturer
48
The poem of the Left’s ‘even the laden branches go unseen’ and what follows is both poetic and a familiar usage. As for the Right’s poem, how can ‘the estate next door be buried’ unless it’s the only place that snow is falling and nowhere else? Thus, I feel that the snow falling to conceal the broken branches has more feeling to it.
The Left’s ‘which path’ gives me the impression that there are many of them. This sense of multiplicity is something I can imagine—which is a good thing—and, I think, see me using myself. ‘Laden branches’ are something which occur on peaks deep in the mountains. It might be a bit remiss of me, but I wonder whether I can imagine snow drifting so high on a mountain peak?
As for the Right’s poem, we use ‘next door’ when there’s a fence of some sort between one estate and another, don’t we? As such, saying that the smoke is the sign is rather vague. Even if there’s been a quite extraordinary snowfall, there would be something other to notice as well as the smoke, so this is an error, isn’t it. It would be acceptable to refer to smoke if the estate were further away.
Round Two
Left
ゆきふればしるしのすぎもはなさきてみわの山べもいかがたづねむ
| yuki fureba shirushi no sugi mo hana sakite miwa no yamabe mo ikaga tazunemu | When the snow has fallen, The symbolic cedars, too, Bloom with blossom— To Miwa’s mountainside How might I make my way? |
Lord Saburō
45
Right (Win)
しらゆきにふるの山みちうづもれてたどるばかりになりもゆくかな
| shirayuki ni furu no yamamichi uzumorete tadoru bakari ni nari mo yuku kana | In snow, so white, Furu’s ancient mountain paths Are buried, so Simply I must feel my way As I go along! |
Ushigimi
46
The Left’s poem is an entirely transparent adaptation of an earlier work. This poem is:
ふる雪に印の杉もうづもれていづこなるらむ三輪の山本
| furu yuki ni shirushi no sugi mo uzumorete izuko naruruamu miwa no yamamoto | In the falling snow, Even the symbolic cedars Are buried Where might be Miwa mountain’s foot?[i] |
The Right’s poem has nothing of interest about it, nor does it have any faults to indicate. Thus, there are insufficient grounds for judgement.
The Left’s poem follows the conception of a poem which appeared in the Kaya Palace Poetry Match.[ii] Although this is an earlier work, truly, it’s not that good, and so this poem doesn’t seem that superlative. Why couldn’t one visit if blossom has simply bloomed? The former poem says it would be difficult to get there because it’s buried in snow. The Right’s poem isn’t that good, but it seems better than the Left, so it should win.
[i] The source of this poem is unclear, however,
[ii] Snow. ふるゆきにすぎのあをばもうづもれてしるしも見えずみわのやまもと furu yuki ni / sugi no aoba mo / uzumorete / shirushi mo miezu / miwa no yamamoto ‘In the falling snow / The green cedar needles / Are buried, so / The symbol goes unseen, / Of Miwa mountain’s foot.’ Lady Settsu (Kaya no in shichiban uta’awase 55). This poetry match, Kaya no in shichiban uta’awase 高陽院七番歌合 (‘Seven Round Poetry Match held at the Kaya Palace’), was sponsored by Fujiwara no Morozane 藤原師実 (1042-1101) and held on the 19th day of the Eighth Month, Kahō 1 [1.10.1094]. The judge, Minamoto no Tsunenobu 源経信 (1016-1097), approved of this poem, saying it was ‘extremely charming’. It was later included in Kin’yōshū (IV: 285), with the headnote, ‘Composed on the conception of snow at the Poetry Match held at the Residence of the Former Uji Chancellor’.
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’,