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Poems 21-25
ima komu to iishi bakari ni Nagatsuki no ariake no tsuki o machiidetsuru kana
|
Simply because He promised to come soon, I have waited through The long Ninth Month night To see the early-morning moon appear. |
Comments
This poem is taken from the fourth "Love" section of the Kokinshū. The poet, whose lay name was Yoshimine no Harutoshi, was the son of Bishop Henjō (see Poem 12) and is counted among the "36 immortals" (Sanjūrokkasen) of Heian poetry.
Since the male poet is giving expression to a woman's feelings, this can be considered a sort of verse by proxy (daiei). Under the pre-Meiji lunar calendar, the ninth month was called Nagatsuki (Long Month) because of the lengthening nights. Here the effect is to juxtapose the length of a late-autumn night with the deepening frustration and resentment of the forsaken narrator, who has in effect spent the night waiting to see the early-morning moon -- a time when under different circumstances the woman's lover would instead be bidding a reluctant farewell. The compound verb machiidetsuru in the last line is somewhat of a portmanteau word in that the subject of the first verb is the woman ("I have waited"), while the subject of the second verb is the moon ("and it has appeared"). Since ariake no tsuki refers to a waning moon that remains in the sky even after dawn, it should probably be assumed that the time of composition is when the woman was prompted to take note of the moon's lingering presence rather than that the moon was not visible at all up to that point. It is, in fact, the lingering moon that ironically evokes the image of the absent lover. For infrormation about the phases of the moon, see the Reference pages.
Literal rendition and notes
- Line 1: immediately | will-come | so
- Line 2: saying | merely | because
- Line 3: Ninth Month | 's
- Line 4: dawn | 's | moon | (accusative particle)
- Line 5: (I)-waited- (it)-appeared | !
fuku kara ni aki no kusaki no shiorureba mube yamakaze o arashi to iu ramu
|
As soon as it blows, The autumn leaves and grasses Start to wilt and fade -- One can see why people call The mountain wind a "tempest." |
Comments
The source is the second "Autumn" section of the Kokinshū. Although the poet is one of the "Six Immortals" (Rokkasen) mentioned in the Preface of the Kokinshū, little is known of him other than he flourished in the middle of the ninth century. His son, Fun'ya no Asahisa, is also represented in the One Hundred Poems collection (Poem 37).
The meaning of the poem relies on visual and semantic wordplay that defies smooth translation. The Japanese word arashi ("storm" or "tempest") comes from a verb that means "devastate" or "lay waste to." However, the Chinese character used here to write the word （嵐） is itself a compound of the ideographs for "mountain" and "wind." The poet playfully refers to this etymology to make the point that the fierce autumn winds that blow off the mountains can be said to devastate the foliage of summer.
Literal rendition and notes
- Line 1: (it)-blows | as-soon-as
- Line 2: autumn | 's | grass-and-trees | as-for
- Line 3: because- fade-and-droop (a combination of the verb shioru and the particle -ba, indicating cause or reason)
- Line 4: one-understands | mountain-wind | (accusative particle)
- Line 5: tempest | (quotation particle) | call | would-seem-why (ramu is a particle indicating supposition about cause, and is connected grammatically with mube to mean "one sees that this would be the reason for calling the "mountain wind" a "tempest")
tsuki mireba senzen ni mono koso kanashikere wa ga mi hitotsu no aki ni wa aranedo |
When I see the moon A thousand thoughts conspire To make me sad, Even though the autumn Was not meant for me alone. |
Comments
This waka was taken from the first "Autumn" section of the Kokinshū. The poet, who was active from the second half of the ninth century, was a nephew of Ariwara no Yukihira (Poem 16) and Ariwara no Narihira (Poem 17).
The sadness of autumn, now taken for granted as a typically Japanese sentiment, appears to have emerged as a poetic topic in the early Heian period, under the influence of Chinese poetry. Here there is a witty (though not overly so) contrast made between the "thousands" of thoughts that beset the poet upon gazing at the autumn moon and the poet's realization that although he experiences these thoughts at the "single" or individual level, he is not alone in his feelings. It is an evocative way of dealing with the paradox of the conventionality of deeply personal feelings. The last two lines represent a grammatical inversion (tōchi), a reversal that creates an ironic distance that meliorates the conventionalyl recognized sadness of autumn.
Literal rendition and notes
- Line 1: moon | when-see
- Line 2: thousands | by-the | things (are) | indeed |
- Line 3: sad (the adjective is conjugated to correspond with the koso of the previous line)
- Line 4: I | 's | body | single-thing | 's
- Line 5: autumn | wherein | as-for | though-be-not (i.e., "though it be not an autumn that belongs to oneself alone")
kono tabi wa nusa mo toriaezu tamukeyama momiji no nishiki kami no ma ni ma ni
|
Plain hemp will not do For a mountain offering As our excursion begins -- Surely the gods will be better pleased To accept a brocade of autumn leaves. |
Comments
This waka comes from the "Travel" section of the Kokinshū. "Kanke" is a reference to Sugawara no Michizane (845-903), the famous Minister of the Right who died in exile in Kyushu and was later deified as the god of learning (Tenjin-sama). The headnote to the poem states that it was composed at the beginning of an imperial excursion to Nara by the retired Emperor Uda.
Once translated the meaning seems clear enough -- the poet feels that the customary offering of cloth to the gods of travel at the beginning of an excusion would suffer by comparison to the richly colored autumn scenery, so he proposes instead to have the scenery itself serve as an offering. It does take a little thought, however, to connect the Japanese phrase kami no ma ni ma ni with main sense of the poem. Two poetic techniques are involved: the pivot word (kakekotoba) that plays on the meaning of tabi as both "trip" and "this time" (the latter rather freely rendered as "as ... begins"), and the metaphorical "likening" (mitate) of the colorful autumn eaves to rich brocade. Whether the metaphor should be considered evocative or pedantically witty is where opinion may differ. (For tamukeyama, I have followed the interpretation that takes the word as a generic term rather than as a place name; to translate nusa I have used what seems to be most representative type of cloth for this purpose.)
Literal rendition and notes
- Line 1: this | time / trip | as-for
- Line 2: hemp | even | not-be-worth-offering ("proffer" + capability + "not")
- Line 3: mountain-where-offerings-made
- Line 4: autumn-leaves | 's | brocade
- Line 5: god(s) | 's | in-accordance-with (their will)
na ni shi owaba Ōsakayama no sanekazura hito ni shirarede kuru yoshi mogana
|
If the “bedsharing vine” Found on Mount Ōsaka were Only true to its name, I would have the perfect means To draw you unseen to my side.
|
Comments
The poem is taken from the third "Love" section of the Gosenshū. The Minister of the Right Sanjō is a reference to Fujiwara no Sadakata (873-932), who had a residence in Sanjō.
Three pivot words (kakekotaba) are used to supply figurative connections between natural description and personal desire: the "Ō" of "Ōsaka" conventionally corresponds to the verb au (pronouned "ou" and meaning "meet"); the sane of sanekazura plays on a homonym meaning "sleep together"; and kuru can be taken either as "come" or as "reel toward" (i.e., the poet's drawing the woman toward him as though teasing a vine from a tree). Further, au and sane are related words (engo), as are kuru and sanekazura. Apparently there is a need to keep secret the relationship between the poet and the woman he addresses. Thus, the poet wishes there were a means of meeting the woman without the knowledge of others, and the aptly named vine that grows on the aptly named mountain would seem to offer the best hope of doing so. The almost excessive wittiness of the conceit is largely offset by the desparate strength of the man's desire.
Literal rendition and notes
- Line 1: name | proper-to | ! | if-have
- Line 2: Mount Ōsaka | 's
- Line 3: sleep-together-with-vine
- Line 4: people | to | unseen
- Line 5: come (with reference to drawing toward) | means | wish-there-were