Ancient Estates 故郷
よもぎ分けたづねぞきぬる古郷は花たちばなのかをしるべにて
| yomogi wake tazune zo kinuru furusato wa hanatachibana no ka o shirube nite | Forging through the mugwort To visit have I come To this ancient estate, with Orange blossom’s Scent as my guide… |
Daishin
Tag Archives: yomogi
Eikyū hyakushu 553
Love II: 17
Left (Win).
蓬生の末葉の露の消えかへりなをこの世にと待たん物かは
| yomogyū no sueba no tsuyu no kiekaeri nao kono yo ni to matan mono ka wa |
From the mugwort Leaf-tips, the dewdrops Have all vanished; Yet within this world Can I wait on…? |
693
Right.
頼めとや頼めし宵の更くるこそかつがつ變る心なりけれ
| tanome to ya tanomeshi yoi no fukuru koso katsugatsu kawaru kokoro narikere |
‘Believe in me’ And so I did, but Night goes on And, indeed, His heart has changed! |
694
Left and Right state: the contents of both poems are fine.
Shunzei’s judgement: the conception and configuration of both poems is elegant, and the Left’s ‘from the mugwort leaf-tips, the dewdrops’ (yomogyū no sueba no tsuyu) sounds fine. The Left should win.
Autumn III: 22
Left.
蟲の音の弱るもしるく淺茅生に今朝は寒けくはだれ霜降る
| mushi no ne no yowaru mo shiruku asajū ni kesa wa samukeku hadare shimo furu |
The insects’ cries Have plainly weakened; Cogon grass, where On this chilly morning Patchy frost has fallen. |
463
Right.
思ふより又あはれは重ねけり露に霜置く庭の蓬生
| omou yori mata aware wa kasanekeri tsuyu ni shimo oku niwa no yomogyū |
I feel Yet more sadness Laid upon me: Upon the dew has frost fallen In my tangled mugwort garden… |
464
The Right find no fault with the Left’s poem. The Left wonder about the appropriateness of ‘upon the dew has frost fallen’ (tsuyu ni shimo oku).
The Right respond, ‘This refers to when frost falls upon something where dew has already fallen.’ In reply, the Left say, ‘Surely, it is when both of them fall together. We do wonder about frost falling on top of dew.’
Shunzei’s judgement: The Left’s poem has an unclear link between its initial and final sections. On the matter of the Right’s ‘frosty dew’, this has the same sense as in the Right’s poem in the previous round. The dew has frozen into frost, surely? However, as the Left’s poem is not worthy of a victory, the round must tie.
Autumn III: 20
Left.
色變る鴛鴦の毛衣今朝見ずは降るとも知らじ秋の露霜
| iro kawaru oshi no kegoromo kesa mizu wa furu tomo shiraji aki no tsuyujimo |
Colours changing on The mandarin duckdown: If I see it not this morning, I’ll not know that has fallen: Autumn’s frosty dew! |
459
Right.
霜さゆる蓬が下のきりぎりす聲も枯野に成やしぬらん
| shimo sayuru yomogi ga shita no kirigirisu koe mo kareno ni nari ya shinuran |
Frozen by frost, Beneath the tangled mugwort Has the cricket’s Chirp wearied as the withered fields Become? |
460
The Right say, ‘It sounds as if the Left cannot see frost, unless it’s on a mandarin duck’s down!’
The Left respond, ‘There is the poem ‘the down-clad ducks come to my mind’ (kamo no uwage o omoi koso yare). If one composes a poem about one thing, that’s what one is composing about. As for what the Right have to say in their poem, if one is listening to a cricket’s chirp, how can it be withering away? Dubious! [fushin]’
Shunzei’s judgement: I must say I am doubtful myself about saying frosty dewfall changes the colour of ‘mandarin duckdown’ (oshi no kegoromo). In the Right’s poem, saying, ‘the cricket’s chirp’ (kirigirisu no koe) ‘the withered fields become’ (kareno ni nari ya shinuran) sounds as if one cannot hear it at all. The Left’s use of ‘dew’ (tsuyu), too, seems pointless. The Right has an elegant [yū naru] initial section, but the diction in the final section is dubious [shūku no kotoba fushin ni kikoyu]. I make the round a tie.
Autumn I: 29
Left.
昨日まで蓬に閉ぢし柴の戸も野分に晴るゝ岡の邊の里
| kinō made yomogi ni tojishi shiba no to mo nowaki ni haruru oka no be no sato |
Until yesterday Sealed by mugwort was This brushwood door; Swept clear by the gale The hills around my dwelling. |
357
Right.
假にさす庵までこそ靡きけれ野分に堪へぬ小野の篠原
| kari ni sasu iori made koso nabikikere nowaki ni taenu ono no shinohara |
Roughly thatched, Even my hut Has blown away: Unable to endure the gales Amongst the arrow bamboo groves… |
358
Both teams say they can appreciate the sentiment of the opposing team’s poem.
Shunzei agrees: ‘Both the Left’s “hills around my dwelling” (oka no be no sato) and the Right’s “arrow bamboo groves” (ono no shinohara) are charming. “Sealed by mugwort was this brushwood door; swept clear by the gale” (yomogi ni tojishi shiba no to mo nowaki ni haruru) and “Even my hut has blown away: unable to endure the gales” (iori made koso nabikikere nowaki ni taenu) have no failings in form between them. Thus, the round ties.’
Summer I: 10
Left.
夏來てぞ野中の庵は荒れまさる窓とぢてけり軒の下草
| natsu kite zo nonaka no io wa aremasaru mado tojitekeri noki no shitagusa |
Summer has come, and Out upon the plains, the hut Has gone to ruin – Windows sealed by Grasses growing ‘neath the eaves. |
199
Right (Win).
わが宿のよもぎが庭は深し誰分けよとか打ちも拂はん
| wa ga yado no yomogi ga niwa wa fukashi dare wakeyo to ka uchi mo harawan |
My dwelling’s Garden is all overgrown Deep as deep can be, but With no-one to force a passage through I’ll not sweep it back! |
200
The Right have no criticisms to make of the Left’s poem. The Left, though, wonder, ‘What is the meaning of “sweep” (uchiharau) in relation to a garden?’
Shunzei comments: ‘The poems of both Left and Right are superb in configuration and diction [sugata kotoba yū ni haberi]. However, the Left, by saying “gone to ruin” (aremasaru) about a hut on the plains, gives the impression it is talking about the beginning of winter, just after the end of autumn. Furthermore, the poem also gives the impression of being composed on the topic of “Field Lodges” (notei). As for the Right, it is certainly possible to sweep away an overgrown garden, as well as the dust from one’s bed, so I see no problems with this usage. Saying “summer’s deep” is by no means unpleasant. The Right wins.”
Entō Onhyakushu 57
Entō Onhyakushu 53
頼みこし人の心は秋更て蓬が杣にうづら鳴くなり
| tanomikoshi hito no kokoro wa aki fukete yomogi ga soma ni uzura nakunari |
I trusted him to come, but His heart Grew sated in the deepening autumn; In mugwort, thick as planted timber, The quails are cheeping. |