はつ時雨ふりにし日より神なびのもりの梢ぞ色まさりゆく
| hatsushigure furinishi hi yori kaminabi no mori no kozue zo iro masariyuku | Since the first chill shower Fell that day In the sacred Grove, the treetops Are turning to hues most fine! |


Left (Tie)
月さゆるつもりのうらのみづがきはふりしくゆきにいろもかはらず
| tsuki sayuru tsumori no ura no mizukaki wa furishiku yuki ni iro wa kawarazu | The moon, so chill, shines Upon the Bay of Tsumori, Where the honored sacred grounds, Spread with fallen snow Remain unchanged in hue. |
Taifu, in service to the Former Ise Virgin[i]
33
Right
あらしふくまつのこずゑにきりはれてかみもこころやすみのえの月
| arashi fuku matsu no kozue ni kiri harete kami mo kokoro ya suminoe no tsuki | The storm wind blows Across the treetops of the pines, Clearing the mists away— I wonder, is the Deity’s heart at Suminoe beneath the moon? |
Lord Fujiwara no Sadanaga
Junior Assistant Minister of Central Affairs
Exalted Fifth Rank, Lower Grade[ii]
34
The Left’s poem appears to be about chill fallen snow spread upon Tsumori Bay, so in saying that the waters bounding the sacred grounds cannot conceal the hue, it appears to be saying that the moon’s light is white, but I wonder if the diction is a bit insufficient to convey this? It seems to me that it simply says that although snow has fallen on the waters bounding the sacred grounds, their hue has not changed—doesn’t it? As for the Right’s poem, I can say that its conception and configuration are pleasant, but it begins with ‘the storm wind blows’ and one cannot say ‘storm wind’ along with ‘beach pines’. One can understand this based on the poem ‘Yes, the mountain wind / Is aptly named “Storm”‘. Still, the poem’s configuration does appear pleasant. Again, I make this a tie.




[i] Zen-saigū no Taifu 前斎宮大輔
[ii] Jūgoige-gyō nakatsukasa no shō Fujiwara ason Sadanaga 従五位下行中務少輔藤原朝臣定長
Round Twelve
Left (Tie)
柞原しぐれにそむるくれなゐはこずゑの風や吹きてほすらん
| hahasowara shigure ni somuru kurenai wa kozue no kaze ya fukitehosuran | The oak groves by The showers are dyed With scarlet— Might the wind through the treetops, Gusting, bring dryness? |
Shinkaku
95
Right
紅葉ばは入日の影のさしそひてゆふくれなゐの色ぞことなる
| momijiba wa irihi no kage no sashisoite yūkurenai no iro zo kotonaru | The autumn leaves By sunset’s light Are struck, and Evening’s scarlet Hue is startlingly fine! |
Lay Priest Norinaga
96
In the Left’s poem I would want there to be an expression such as ‘robe’ or ‘brocade’ which is being blown. As for the Right, it lacks any unusual diction, but has no noticeable faults, so these should tie.




Round Five
Left (Win)
ゆふかくるここちこそすれすみよしのまつのこずゑをてらす月かげ
| yū kakuru kokochi koso sure sumiyoshi no matsu no kozue o terasu tsukikage | All hung with sacred streamers I feel they are— At Sumiyoshi The treetops of the pines Shining in the moonlight. |
Lord Fujiwara no Shigenori
Captain of the Outer Palace Guards, Left Division
Exalted Senior Third Rank[1]
9
Right
すみよしのまつのこずゑをみわたせばこよひぞかくる月のしらゆふ
| sumiyoshi no matsu no kozue o miwataseba koyoi zo kakuru tsuki no shirayū | When, at Sumiyoshi Over the treetops of the pines I pass my gaze, Hung are they, this midnight With the moon’s white sacred streamers… |
Lord Fujiwara no Morikata
Junior Fourth Rank, Lower Grade
Without Office[2]
10
Left and Right have produced poems on the moon, both with the conception of it resembling white sacred streamers hung on the treetops of the pines, while the differences between them are charming, it does not sound as if the poem of the Right has any reason for singling out ‘this midnight’, while nothing appears lacking in the beauty of the Left’s work and thus, once more, it wins.




[1] Shōsan’i-gyō sahyōe no kami Fujiwara ason Shigenori 正三位行左兵衛督藤原朝臣成範
[2] San’i jūshi’ige Fujiwara ason Morikata 散位従四位下藤原朝臣盛方
Round Five
Left
あさひ山みねの紅葉をみわたせばよもの木末に照りまさりけり
| asahiyama mine no momiji o miwataseba yomo no kozue ni terimasarikeri | When upon Asahi Mountain’s Peak of scarlet leaves I turn my gaze, All over, the treetops Shine most bright! |
Tamechika
81
Right (Win)
紅のやしほの色にめかれすなおなじはもりの神といへども
| kurenai no yashio no iro ni mekaresu na onaji hamori no kami to iedomo | From the scarlet, Deeply dyed, hues O, avert not your eyes! Though the same leaves’ guardian Deity you are called… |
Moromitsu
82
The Left has nothing particular to say and its expression is awkward. As for the Right, a number of learned men seem to have said that one does not compose about the guardian deity of the leaves in relation to trees in general, but about oak trees, yet a great many things have deities to protect them, so I wonder if the guardian deity of the leaves could be a deity for all types of tree—couldn’t it protect any of them? Thus, in this poem, too, couldn’t that be the case? While the concluding ‘though you are called’sounds overly direct, it appears it should win.




Round Twenty-Three
Left (Win)
雪ふかみしづのふせ屋もうづもれて煙ばかりぞしるしなりける
| yuki fukami shizu no fuseya mo uzumorete keburi bakari zo shirushi narikeru | Snow so deep that The peasants’ huts, too, Are buried, and The smoke, alone, is Their only sign! |
Kinshige
45
Right
花の春もみぢの秋もしるかりし松の木ずゑもみえぬ白雪
| hana no haru momiji no aki mo shirukarishi matsu no kozue mo mienu shirayuki | By blossom is spring, and By scarlet leaves is autumn Known— The treetops of the pines Invisible with snow, so white. |
Kūnin
46
The Left poem’s conception of ‘sign of smoke’ sounds particularly profound. As for the Right, it is possible for enough snow to fall to conceal a pine’s lower leaves, too, so the poem does not sound satisfying.




Topic unknown.
庭のおもは月もらぬまで成りにけりこずゑになつのかげしげりつつ
| niwa no omo wa tsuki moranu made narinikeri kozue ni natsu no kage shigeritsutsu | The garden’s face Untouched by drops of moonlight Has become; Upon the treetops summer’s Shadows ever lie lush. |
Former Emperor Shirakawa
