One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets

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Poem 31


ariake no tsuki to

   miru made ni

Yoshino no sato ni

fureru shirayuki


   In the gathering dawn,

one might take it for the moon

   lingering in the sky --

the white snow now falling

on the dwellings of Yoshino.

-- Sakanoue no Korenori


The poem comes from the "Winter" section of the Kokinshū. The poet, who flourished in the early Heian period, was one of the "thirty-six immortals" of Japanese poetry, designated as such on the basis of their inclusion in a collection of their waka compiled by the mid-Heian courtier Fujiwara no Kintō (966-1041).

Yoshino was a mountainous district in Yamato, present-day Nara Prefecture. Despite -- or perhaps because of -- its distance from Kyoto, it was famous for its snow in winter and its cherry blossoms in spring. The poet reverses the more typical comparison of the moon to snow, making the snow the source of radiance. Since the snow is still falling, the suffused light resembles that cast by a lingering moon, a conceit that saves the poem from seeming perhaps merely witty. Ending the poem with a noun ("white-snow" rather than "Yoshino" in Japanese) is a technique known as taigen-dome (as long as a technique like inversion [tōchi-hō]) is not the cause).

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  approaching-morn
  • Line 2:  early-dawn | 's | moon
  • Line 3: regard | so-far | as-to-be
  • Line 4:  Yoshino | 's | dwellings | on
  • Line 5:  falling | white-snow

Poem 32

  yamagawa ni

kaze no kaketaru

  shigarami wa

nagare mo aenu

momiji narikeri


  A wattle dam

laid seemingly by the wind

  across the mountain stream --

autumn leaves unable to

break free and join the current.

-- Harumichi no Tsuraki


This waka was taken from the second "Autumn" section of the Kokinshū. Nothing is known of the poet except that he died in 920, just before taking up his post as governor of Iki Province (the island of Iki off the northern coast of Kyushu).

The poem combines the techniques of personification (gijin-hō) and likening (mitate) to give the wind (or breeze) a tactile presence and to bring into clear focus the poet's realization that his initial impression was mistaken. In this way, one of the most conventional of Japanese poetic images -- autumn leaves floating in the water -- is presented with a freshness that enhances rather than trivializes it.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  mountain-stream | in
  • Line 2:  wind | (subj.) | cast-across
  • Line 3:  wattle-barrier | as-for
  • Line 4:  float-away | ! | unable-to
  • Line 5:  autumn-leaves | be!

Poem 33

   hisakata no

hikari nodokeki

   haru no hi ni

shizugokoro naku

hana no chiru ramu


  On a day in spring

with the light extending softly

  into the distance,

one would say the blossoms fall

because of their troubled hearts.

-- Ki no Tomonori


This waka originally appeared in the second "Spring" section of the Kokinshū. Ki no Tomonori (?-?905) was the cousin of Ki no Tsurayuki and one of the compilers of the Kokinshū, which contains 46 of his poems, more than any other poet except Tsurayuki himself (see Poem 35) and Ōshikōchi no Mitsune (see Poem 29).

The effect of the poem derives from the paradoxical contrast between the calm of a sunny spring day and the falling cherry blossoms: since there is no physical reason for the blossoms to be scattering from the trees, it must be because of their own restless feelings. Some readers may not find this contrast to be very convincing, but it might be taken to imply a sensitive awareness to the disjunction that can arise between inner feelings and outward surroundings, thus modifying or enhancing the conventional association of cherry blossoms with transience. In the past, the particle ramu (which is used to draw a conclusion based on observable phenomena) was often said in this poem to indicate a questioning as to the reason for the phenomenon (thus "Why is it that the blossoms fall with unsettled hearts?"). This interpretation, however, requires bridging a grammatical gap (through the use of a question word, for example) that is not explicitly bridged in the poem, and the earlier interpretation seems to have fallen out of favor. The two poetic techniques involved are personification (gijin-hō, attributing unsettled feelings to cherry blossoms) and makurakotoba (hisakata being a "pillow word" conventionally used, for example, with atmospheric phenomena and heavenly objects). To actually translate a makurakotoba, as has been done here, entails the risk of making the quality too explicitly descriptive.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  far-extending | 's
  • Line 2:  light | gentle ("gentle" inflected to modify "spring," so that the grammar becomes "distant-light-gentle's spring")
  • Line 3:  spring | 's | day | on
  • Line 4:  calm-heart | not-having
  • Line 5:  blossom | be | scatter | do-surmise (i.e., "I would surmise that the blossoms fall because...")

Poem 34

   tare o ka mo

shiru hito ni semu

   Takasago no

matsu mo mukashi no

tomo naranaku ni


   Who is there to claim

as someone I truly know?

   At Takasago,

even the pines are not

my friends of long ago.

-- Fujiwara no Okikaze


From the first "Miscellaneous" volume of the Kokinshū. Fujiwara no Okikaze (dates unknown) was an early Heian-period poet considered one of the "thirty-six immortals" of waka poetry. Apparently he was also a skilled court musician.

The pines at Takasago (in present-day Hyogo Prefecture) were a conventional symbol of longevity. Here, however, the poet -- bereft of the friends of his youth -- cannot find cause to celebrate his own long life because even these famous pines cannot take the place of his lost friends. The reversal of the conventional felicitous association carries a powerful impact. Grammatically, the first two lines and the last three lines are reversed (the tōchi-hō technique), with the latter serving to give the reason for the former (the same pattern is found in Poem 14). Creating a semantic break in this way after the second line is known as ni-kugire.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1: who | (acc.) | ? | !
  • Line 2:  know | person | into | shall-make
  • Line 3: Takasago | 's
  • Line 4: pine | even | long-ago | 's
  • Line 5: friend | not-be | because

Poem 35

   hito wa isa

kokoro mo shirazu

   furusato wa

hana zo mukashi no

ka ni nioikeru


   One can never know

what the human heart intends,

   but the blossoms

in a place one once called home

retain the fragrance of the past.

-- Ki no Tsurayuki


This poem appears in the first "Spring" section of the Kokinshū. Ki no Tsurayuki (866?-945), chief compiler of this first imperially ordered collection of waka poetry, is one of the Heian period's most representative poets.

In the Kokinshū, the poem carries a headnote stating that it was composed when Tsurayuki paid a visit to a lodging house at Hase Temple that he had frequented in the past and the proprietor chided him for his extended absence. The implication is that Tsurayuki meant to rebuke his host by observing that one can rely more on the constancy of the natural world than on the constancy of human feelings (that is, one cannot take a person's words to reveal what he or she truly feels, so Tsurayuki does not put much faith in the proprietor's sincerity). The blossoms, as usual in the Heian period, are plum blossoms; furusato here does not refer to the place of one's birth but rather a place in which one has previously lived (Tsurayuki was born in Kyoto). As in the previous poem, there is a grammatical break at the end of the second line -- the ni-kugire technique.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  person | as-for | well-then (used before a negative word; here combines with "not-know")
  • Line 2:  heart | also | not-know
  • Line 3:  earlier-home | as-for
  • Line 4:  blossoms | ! | old-times | 's
  • Line 5:  scent | with | be-fragrant

Poem 36

   natsu no yo wa

mada yoi nagara

   akenuru o

kumo no izuko ni

tsuki yadoru ramu


   Since the summer night

no sooner arrived than

   it gave way to dawn,

where among the clouds has

the moon found a place to stay?

-- Kiyohara no Fukayabu


This poem appears in the “Summer” section of the Kokinshū. The poet, who flourished from the end of the ninth century to the middle of the tenth, was the grandfather of Fujiwara no Motosuke (see Poem 42) and the great-grandfather of Minor Counselor Shōnagon (see Poem 62).

After a conventionally short summer night, one would expect to see the moon lingering in the early-morning sky (this would be the case in the second half of the lunar month). The poet, unable to distinguish the form of the moon in the brightening sky, adopts the conceit that the moon must have slipped behind the clouds. Note also the implication that the poet and his lover have been admiring the moon throughout the night, and that the time for parting has arrived much too soon. The technique being employed is gijin-hō (personification).

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  summer | ’s | night | as-for
  • Line 2:  still | early-night | while-continuing
  • Line 3:  has-dawned | so
  • Line 4:  cloud | ’s  | where | among
  • Line 5:  moon | take-lodging | ? (particle used for speculation)

Poem 37

   shiratsuyu ni

kaze no fukishiku

   aki no no wa


tama zo chirikeru


   The wind gusts fiercely

over the glistening dew

   on the autumn field,

and the drops scatter like pearls

that have been left unstrung.

-- Fun'ya no Asayasu


This poem appears in the middle (second) “Autumn” section of the Gosenshū. Little is known of the poet -- who was active from the late ninth century to the early 10th century -- other than that he was the son of Fun’ya no Yasuhide (see Poem 22).

The image of jewels or beads strung on a cord or thread was a common one in Heian waka. The cord might be used as a metaphor for life, for example, so that if the cord breaks and the beads scatter, the implication is that someone’s life has ended. Here, the dewdrops on the plants in an autumn field are being compared to loose pearls that scatter before the strongly gusting wind (the technique of mitate). The visual scope and implied repetition can be said to invigorate what might otherwise be a rather conventional image.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  white-dew | at
  • Line 2:  wind | (nom.) | constantly-blow
  • Line 3:  autumn | ’s | field
  • Line 4:  not-string-together
  • Line 5:  jewel | ! | scatter

Poem 38


mi o ba omowazu


hito no inochi no

oshiku mo aru kana


  Having been forgotten,

I care nothing for myself --

  yet concern runs deep

for the life of the one who

pledged his devotion to me.

-- Ukon


This poem appears in the fourth “Love” section of the Gosenshū. It also appears in Section 84 of Tales of Yamato with a headnote explaining that it was composed by the poet after her lover had betrayed his sacred promise never to forget her. Ukon, whose dates are unknown, was the daughter of Fujiwara no Suetada (also read as "Suenawa"; d. 919) and served Onshi, the empress of Emperor Daigo (r. 897-930). She was active in the poetic circles of the court of Emperor Murakami (r. 946-967).

The poem invokes the possibility of divine retribution for having broken a vow of love. The message can either be taken as pointed sarcasm or as a expression of genuine concern that the poet’s lover has put his life at risk by breaking his sacred pledge -- or the ambivalence itself may be the point. A clear grammatical break after the second line signals the use of the ni-kugire technique. The translation (here and elsewhere) follows the literal meaning by translating hito in the third person, but given the context (it is a message intended to be read by that person), the use of "you" would also be justified.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1: being-forgotten
  • Line 2: self | (acc.) | ! | not-think
  • Line 3: vow | having-done | did (i.e., "having once vowed")
  • Line 4: someone | 's | life | (nom.)
  • Line 5: be-regretful | even | be | !

Poem 39

   asajiu no

ono no shinohara


amarite nado ka

hito no koishiki


   My feelings remain

concealed -- bamboo grass

   in a field of reeds.

Yet why should it be so strong,

this love of mine for another?

-- Counselor Hitoshi


This poem appears in the first “Love” section of Gosenshū. Minamoto no Hitoshi (880-951; “counselor” was his court title) was a descendent of Emperor Saga (r. 809-823), but otherwise his life is obscure.

The opening two phrases of the Japanese can be said to constitute a jokotoba introducing shinobu (conceal, endure), with the first three phrases as a whole unified phonetically by the repeated no. The semantic connection between a conventional jokotoba and the word or phrase it introduces is not always clear in classical poetry (wordplay often seems as important as meaning), but here there seems to be a suggestion that while the bamboo grass may not be easily distinguished visually from the other plants growing in the meadow, the fact that its leaves rustle in the slightest breeze can be expected to give it away. The suggested tension between concealment and revelation is explicitly related to love in the final two phrases, in which a rhetorical question signals the poet's consternation at being subject to feelings of love so powerful that they threaten to betray him.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  reed-growing | ’s
  • Line 2:  small-field | ’s | bamboo-grass-field
  • Line 3:  although-conceal
  • Line 4:  too-much-being | why | ? (this line combines with the next to form the rhetorical question, “Why is it that I should be so much in love with someone?")
  • Line 5:  person | (nom.) | be-loved

Poem 40


iro ni idenikeri

   wa ga koi wa

mono ya omou to

hito no tou made


  I have tried to conceal

what seems plain enough to see --

  my love is such that

others have taken to asking

whether my thoughts are somewhere else.

-- Taira no Kanemori


This poem appears in the first “Love” section of Shūishū (compiled around 1006). Taira no Kanemori (? – 990) was the son of the court noble Taira no Atsuyuki (?-910). He is considered a representative Gosenshū-period (mid-10th-century) poet.

The poet thinks he has been successfully concealing his feelings, but he realizes that others have grown suspicious because the expression on his face has been giving him away. The realization is highlighted by the use of inversion (tōchihō), with the last three phrases displaced from their proper grammatical position between the first two. This inversion is combined with the skillful use of a second-phrase break (niku-gire), allowing the first two phrases to function as an independent unit, in effect effacing the grammatical displacement.

This poem was matched against the next one (No. 41) in a famous poetry competition held at the court of Emperor Murakami in 960. Both were composed on the assigned topic of concealed love (shinobu koi). The story is that the judge had difficulty awarding the victory until the emperor was overheard to intone this one, which decided the final outcome.

Literal rendition and notes
  • Line 1:  although-conceal
  • Line 2:  color (i.e., facial features) | in | have-come-out
  • Line 3:  my | love | as-for
  • Line 4:  something | ? | think | so-say
  • Line 5:  person (i.e., others) | ’s | asking | to-that-extent