Tag Archives: water

Mimosugawa uta’awase 11

Round Eleven

Left

立ちかはる春をしれともみせがほに年をへだつる霞なりけり

tachikawaru
haru o shire tomo
misegao ni
toshi o hedatsuru
kasumi narikeri
‘The turn to
Spring I would you know!’
Reveals,
Standing at the year’s edge,
The haze.

21

Right (Win)

岩まとぢし氷もいまはとけ初めて苔の下水道もとむなり

iwama tojishi
kōri mo ima wa
tokehajimete
koke no shitamizu
michi motomu nari
Cracks between the crags sealed
By ice, now
Beginning to melt, and
The water ‘neath the moss
Seeks to find its way.

22

The poem of the Left appears to have suitable configuration and diction, but even though the expression ‘reveals’ is something which one and all, and even I, compose with, I still feel that it is a word which is better avoided in a poetry match. Victory should be awarded according to a poem’s style. The poem of the Right has charming conception and diction. I should say it wins.

Sankashū I: 10

Topic unknown.[i]

はるしれと谷のほそみづもりぞくるいはまの氷ひまたえにけり

haru shire to
tani no hosomizu
mori zo kuru
iwama no kōri
hima taenikeri
‘Realise ‘tis spring!’, says
The trickle of water through the valley
Leaking out from
The ice between the rocks, where
Cracks have appeared.[ii]

[i] This poem has an alternate headnote: ‘On mountain waters announcing [spring], when various people were composing poems for the Bosatsu’in Ise Virgin.’ Gotō (1982, 12) notes that this is an erroneous reference to Imperial Princess Muneko (Tōshi) 統子内親王 (1126-1189), later known as Jōsaimon’in 上西門院, who, in fact, served as Kamo Virgin.

[ii] Saigyō composed on a similar theme for the Mimosugawa uta’awase 御裳濯河歌合 (‘Mimosugawa Poetry Match’; 1187) of his own poems: 岩まとぢし氷もいまはとけ初めて苔の下水道もとむなり iwama tojishi / kōri mo ima wa / tokehajimete / koke no shitamizu / michi motomu nari ‘Cracks between the crags sealed / By ice, now / Beginning to melt, and / The water ‘neath the ice / Seeks to find its way.’(Mimosugawa uta’awase 22)

Shunzei-kyō no musume-shū 7

岩たたく谷の下水音わけてむすばぬ袖ぞまだきすずしき

iwa tataku
tani no shitamizu
oto wakete
musubanu sode zo
madaki suzushiki
Dripping on the rocks is
The water ‘neath the valley—
At the sound I feel that,
Though they cannot draw it up, my sleeves
Are swiftly cooled.[i]

7


[i] See, for example: Composed when he presented a hundred poem sequence during the reign of former Emperor Horikawa. みむろ山たににや春のたちぬらむ雪のした水いはたたくなり mimuro no yama / tani ni ya haru no / tachinuramu / yuki no shitamizu / iwa tataku nari ‘Upon Mount Mimuro, / In the valleys, I wonder, has spring /  Arisen? / For waters ‘neath the snow / Are dripping on the rocks…’ Middle Counsellor Kuninobu (Senzaishū I: 2); Composed on the conception of enjoying the cool of the evening, when Minister of Justice Yorisuke held a poetry match. いはたたく谷の水のみおとづれて夏にしられぬみ山べのさと iwa tataku / tani no mizu nomi / otozurete / natsu ni shirarenu / miyamabe no sato ‘Dripping on the rocks / The valley’s waters, alone, / Pay me a call, / All ignorant of summer / At my deep mountain retreat…’ Former Consultant Norinaga (Senzaishū III: 221); and: Composed on the conception of it being chilly bathing in a spring at night. さよふかきいづみの水のおときけばむすばぬそでもすずしかりけり sayo fukaki / izumi no mizu no / oto kikeba / musubanu sode mo / suzushikarikeri ‘Deep within a night so brief / When the water of a spring / I hear, / Though they cannot draw it up, my sleeves / Are cool, indeed.’ Minamoto no Morokata (Goshūishū III: 233)

Kinkai wakashū 591

There is a river called the Sagami River. I composed this to say I would board a boat and cross it after the moon had risen.[i]

ゆふづくよさすや川せのみなれ棹なれてもうとき浪のおとかな

yūzukuyo
sasu ya kawase no
minarezao
narete mo utoki
nami no oto kana
On a moonlit night,
The beams strike the river rapids—
The well-worn pole to the water
May be accustomed, yet troublesome is
The sound of waves![ii]

591


[i] This river would have been familiar to Sanetomo, as it flows into the sea some twenty kilometres to the west of Kamakura, where the shogunate was headquartered. Based on the poem, the boat would have been a ferry, punted, rather than sailed across it.

[ii] See: Topic unknown. ゆふづく夜さすやをかべの松のはのいつともわかぬこひもするかな yūzukuyo / sasu ya okabe no / matsu no ha no / itsu to mo wakanu / koi mo suru kana ‘On a moonlit night / The beams strike the hillside / Through the pine needles / All year round, / As constant is my longing.’ Anonymous (Kokinshū XI: 490)

Eien narabō uta’awase 25

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…

Naidaijin-ke uta’awase 05

Round Five

Left (T – Tie)

時雨には菅の小笠も水もりて遠の旅人ぬれやしぬらん

shigure ni wa
suga no ogasa mo
mizu morite
ochi no tabibito
nure ya shinuran
In such a shower
A little hat of woven sedge, too,
Drips with water;
A distant traveller
Is drenched, no doubt…

Lady Kazusa
9

Right (M – Win)

霜さえて枯行くをのの岡べなるならの朽葉にしぐれ降るなり

shimo saete
kareyuku ono no
okabe naru
nara no kuchiba ni
shigure furu nari
Chill the frost upon
The sere meadows on
The hillside where
Upon the withered oak leaves
A shower is falling.

Lord Mototoshi
10

Toshiyori states: In the first poem, ‘drips with water’ is vague. In the second poem, ‘hillside where’ lacks smoothness. What are we to make of ‘withered oak leaves’? If leaves have withered away, then they wouldn’t make any sound, would they. Is this even possible?

Mototoshi states: the diction of ‘In such a shower / A little umbrella of woven sedge, too, / Drips with water’ is something which lacks any prior precedent. ‘Dripping with water’ give the impression of a painted pot with a crack in it, so what kind of shower can this be? It would be more normal to refer to having to shelter beneath one’s sleeves. While it is lacking in any superlative features, I feel that the sound of a shower on withered oak leaves is somewhat more commonplace.