Gosenshu 4

Gosen wakashu Volume 4: Summer 後撰和歌集巻第四　夏

147

題しらず

Circumstance unknown

よみ人も

Also the poet

今日よりは夏の衣に成りぬれどきるひとさへはかはらざりけり

kehu yori ha                  It's from today that
natu no koromo ni             We begin to wear
nari-nure-do                  The summer clothing,
kiru hito sahe                But the heart of the wearers,
kahara-zari-keri              Alone does not change, I see.

--

The summer volume begins with a set of anonymous poems, beginning with two that have no contexts or authors, introducing some of the significant imagery of the first section.

As the weather gets hotter, people change to lighter summer clothing. Katagiri notes that the focus on the hearts of people is characteristic of the GSS, but it's hard to say exactly what the meaning is. The use of hito suggests a love poem with a woman complaining about a man, as in Kigin's reading. But perhaps because this is the opposite of the usual changing hearts of men, Kifune says that the hito is actually the poet herself, and it's her sorrow that doesn't change. Katagiri seems to take this in a more general sense -- people's hearts are not like the light clothing we change into, and thus stay the same.

The love meaning is more evident in Shoku kokin wakashu 1542, which uses this as a honka:

今日見れば夏の衣になりにけりうきはかはらぬ身をいかにせん

Today I see that people have changed to summer clothing. What will happen to my sorrowful heart which does not change?

It's hard to tell what this means for the medieval reading of the poem since it was common to use a non-love poem as a honka for a love poem.

A similar feeling is found in SIS 1002, though about spring:

あたらしき年にはあれども鶯の鳴く音さへには変わらざりけり

It's a new year, but it seems that only the sound of the warbler has not changed.

This poem appears in the Teiji Poetry Contest. Emperor Daigo himself was the judge. This poem lost, Daigo commenting negatively on the fourth line.

148

[Circumstance unknown] [Poet unknown]

卯の花のさけるかきねの月きよみいねずきけとやなくほととぎす

u no hana no              The moon shines brightly
sake-ru kakine no         On a fence where deutzia
tuki kiyo-mi              Flowers are blooming,
ine-zu kike to ya         So it seems the cuckoo cries,
naku hototogisu           "Don't leave, but stay and listen!"

The cuckoo cries

Kifune says that the entire poem up to this point is what the warbler is crying, while Katagiri takes only the fourth line as the warbler's cry.

--

The u no hana (deutzia) appears in only one late summer poem in the KKS (164), but starting with the GSS it becomes a major seasonal image of early summer. It often occurs with warblers or the moon, but Kifune suggests this is the first poem to combine all three images.

Kigin and Kudo both note how this poem paints a picture in the first three lines and then adds sound in the last one. Perhaps this was originally a screen painting. It also occurs in both the Ise Collection and the Yakamochi Collection with a different second line (にほふさかりの - "in profusely blooming beauty.")

月をだにあかず思ひてねぬものをほととぎすさへなきわたるかな

I cannot sleep, thinking longingly of the moon, and even the warbler continues to cry. (Kokin waka rokujo, Ki no Tsurayuki)

149

卯月ばかり、友だちの住み侍りける所近く侍りて、「必ず消息つかはしてむ」と待ちけるに、音なく侍りければ

Around the 4th month, a friend was living in a place near their house. They said "don't fail to send me a letter" and waited, but there was no answer.

[Poet unknown]

郭公きゐるかきねはちかながらまちどほにのみ声のきこえぬ

hototogisu                     The fence on which the
ki-wiru kakine ha              Cuckoo has come and is sitting
tika-nagara                    Is close to me, but
matidoho ni nomi               I just wait expectantly,
kowe no kikoe-nu               And do not hear the bird's voice.

--

The initial anonymous poems are followed by two exchanges -- one by friends, and one by lovers. This poems uses the cuckoo as a metaphor for the friend, who is nearby but does not send the voice (letter). There is also a contrast in the poem with tika (close) and the doho (far) of matidoho (wait expectantly).

Kigin's Hachidaishusho has a different third line -- tiri-nagara ("has scattered, and yet"). This is found in no other manuscript and seems to be a mistake, but it results in a different explanation of the poem. Kigin interprets this as the deutzia flower having scattered, and so the cuckoo doesn't come to cry.

150

返し

Response

[Poet Unknown]

ほととぎす声まつほどはとをからでしのびにかうをかかぬなるらん

hototogisu                    The time you need wait
kowe matu hodo ha             For the cuckoo's cry to come
tohokara-de                   Is not that far, and
sinobi ni naku wo             My voice crying hidden tears
kika-nu-naru-ran              You seem not to have heard it.

--

The response is partly explanation and apology, and part a reproach on the original poet (perhaps for not visiting?) This kind of playful reproach is common in responses to love poetry. The first part of the poem refers to the 4th month in which the poem was composed -- normally cuckoos come in the 5th month. Kifune calls this a skilled composition.

151

もの言ひかはし侍りける人の、つれなく侍りければ、その家の垣根の卯の花を折りて言ひ入れて侍りける

A person who he had been involved with had become cold to him, and he broke off a deutzia flower from the fence at her house and sent it in to her with this poem.

[Poet unknown]

うらめしき君がかきねの卯の花はうしと見つつもなほたのむかな

uramesiki                     You are cold to me
kimi ga kakine no             Just like the deutzia flowers
u no hana ha                  Growing on your fence,
usi to mi-tutu mo             Though I suffer many times,
naho tanomu kana              Still I rely on your love.

Been involved with

The Japanese ihikahasu can denote several degrees of a relationship; this could also be a woman who he has simply been exchanging letters with and is not able to see. This is typical of the GSS' vague yet suggestive language in the prose prefaces, which some scholars believe invited the readers to imagine their own story.

deutzia flowers

The u flower suggests usi (suffer).

--

The exchange of poetry between friends is following by this private exchange between lovers. The association of the deutzia flowers with love problems is commonplace in poetry although it only shows up in two KKS poems, including this summer poem by Mitsune (164):

ほととぎす我とはなしに卯の花の憂き世の中になきわたるらむ

The warbler is not me, so why is it crying in this hateful world?

In this poem, the 卯の花の acts as a pillow word or preface to 憂き, while also suggesting the summer flowers. Some texts of the GSS read u no hana no for poem 151, perhaps due to influence from this poem. Following that reading, the first few lines become a preface.

Another poem that may be an influence on this one is KKS 792, by Tomonori:

水の泡のきえでうき身といひながら流れてなほもたのまるるかな

Like the bubbles of water that float without popping, I float in suffering, and yet I can't stop relying on you.

The same texts that read u no hana no in the third line also read naho tanomaruru kana in the fifth line, also matching the KKS poem.

Several commentaries also point out that the repetition of u throughout the poem (uramesiki, u no hana, usi) shows a skilled compositional technique.

Finally, in yet another example of textual variation, some texts of this poem read kokoro wo rather than kakine wo, which also emphasizes the usi meaning.

152

返し

Response

うき物と思ひしりなば卯の花のさけるかきねもたづねざらまし

ukimono to                     If you thought of me
omohisiri-na-ba                As a hateful person, then
u no hana no                   You would not visit
sake-ru kakine mo              The fence in front of my house
tadune-zara-masi               Where the deutzia flowers bloom.

Deutzia flowers

As in the last poem, the u flowers suggest uki (hateful).

--

The response picks up on the man's imagery. Given the prose preface in the preceding poem, the woman's response seems rather ironic and cold, although Kifune denies this. He says that she is being calm and restrained. Kudo interprets the poem as meaning the relationship is over, but I'm not clear where that comes from in the poem.

An interesting variant in alternate texts is nan rather than masi in the final line. This changes the meaning to "I want you to not visit" rather than "You would not visit", turning it into a bold statement that she is no longer interested.

153

卯の花の垣根ある家にて

At a house with deutzia flowers growing on the fence

時わかずふれる雪かと見るまでにかきねもたわにさける卯の花

toki waka-zu                It even looks like
fure-ru yuki ka to          It could be the falling snow,
miru made ni                Heedless of season,
kakine mo tawa ni           The fence bending from the load
sake-ru u no hana           Of blooming deutzia flowers.

--

This is a poem of unclear circumstance -- some alternate texts have different wording for the prose preface that suggests a love affair, but there's nothing in the poem itself that would suggest love metaphors or imagery. Instead, this seems to be the standard mitate (feigned confusion) seasonal poem, one popular in public poetry. The poem also appears as SIS 94 with "circumstance unknown."

Although the comparison of plum flowers and snow is commonplace, using the imagery with the white deutzia flowers is not found in the MY or KKS (per Kifune). The use of tawa, suggesting a branch bending under the weight of snow, enhances the "feigned confusion" with vivid imagery.

154

友だちの訪ひまでこぬことをうらみつかはすとて

Sent by someone upset at a friend not visiting.

白妙ににほふかきねの卯の花のうくもきてとふ人のなきかな

sirotahe ni               Like white cloth they bloom
nihohu kakine no          Brilliant they bloom on the fence,
u no hana no              The deutzia flowers,
uku mo ki-te tohu         I begrudge that visitors
hito no naki kana         Don't come, not a single one.

deutzia

See the previous poems for the play on u and uku.

come

The verb kite suggests kite (wear), which is a poetic association with the sirotahe (white) in the opening line.

--

This is a private anonymous poem similar to 148, but without a response. The first three lines are a poetic preface (jo) for the word uku (begrudge), although we might imagine the poet looking out at the flowers growing on her own fence.

The construction and sentiment is similar to several MYS poems:

鴬の通ふ垣根の卯の花の憂きことあれや君が来まさぬ (v10, 1988)

Like the deutzia flowers blooming on the fence visited by the warbler, I am annoyed that you do not visit.

ほととぎす鳴く峰の上の卯の花の憂きことあれや君が来まさぬ　(v8, 1501)

Like the deutzia flowers on the mountain peak visited by the cuckoo, I am annoyed that you do not visit.

155

[Poet unknown]

時わかず月か雪かとみるまでにかきねのままにさける卯の花

toki waka-zu                  It looks to me like
tuki ka yuki ka to            The moon or perhaps the snow
miru made ni                  That cannot tell time,
kakine no mama ni             The blooming deutzia flowers
sakeru u no hana              That themselves become the fence.

Prose preface

Because there is no preface, the normal conventions of a collection would mean the previous preface applies to this poem as well. However, "Sent by someone upset at a friend not visiting" makes no sense as a preface for this poem. One of Teika's earlier texts has this poem after 153, in which case the preface would be "At the house where deutzia flowers are on a fence". I am tempted to agree with a minority of variant texts that this should be "circumstance unknown". Perhaps at some point in the editing process -- either of the collection itself or the manuscript tradition -- this poem was moved from another location (like after 153) and the editors neglected to insert "circumstance unknown" to reflect the change. This seems like the kind of anonymous constructed poem that is common in both the GSS and KKS. Kifune is the only modern editor to emend the text; the other two editions don't even mention the missing preface. Norinaga, the Shinsho, and Kigin all insert the phrase as well.

become the fence

In other words, they are so profusely blooming that they cover the fence to the point where only the flowers can be seen.

--

As I said above, I believe this is an anonymous, public-style poem using the common mitate (feigned confusion) poetic technique. This section seems to be constructed by alternating between poems with no context and those with context.

156

鳴きわびぬいづちゆかんほととぎすなほ卯の花の影ははなれじ

naki-wabi-nu                  Crying out in pain,
iduti yuka-n                  It wants to leave for somewhere,
hototogisu                    The crying cuckoo,
naho u no hana no             And yet it cannot part from
kage ha hanare-zi             The shade of deutzia flowers.

--

As with 155, this poem is more likely an anonymous, public-style composition than a continuation of 154's poetic preface. The poem puts the speaker's feelings on the warbler -- just as the crying warbler can't leave the deutzia flowers, I, crying helplessly, cannot leave this hateful world. The same play on u (deutzia) and usi (hateful) is here as well. See KKS 164 cited above, as well as KKS 153 by Mitsune, where the second line derives:

五月雨に物思ひをればほととぎす夜深くなきていづち行くらむ

Where is the warbler going, crying in the deepening night, sitting in worry in the rain?

157

卯月ばかりの月おもしろかりける夜、人につかはしける

On a night in the 4th month when the moon was beautiful, sent to a person

あひ見しもまた見ぬこひも郭公月になくよぞよににざりける

ahi-mi-si mo                 Love after meeting,
mata mi-nu kohi mo           Or love for one not yet seen,
hototogisu                   Neither can compare
tuki ni naku yo zo           To a night when the cuckoo
yo ni ni-zari-keru           Is crying out for the moon.

--

This seems like a love poem from the prose preface, especially with the use of hito (usually denoting a lover). However, the imagery of the poem itself is not typical of such a poem. What would the lover be supposed to feel about this? The first two lines refer to common situations in love poetry -- a poem addressed to one you have spent the night with, and a poem about someone you have heard about (or communicated with) but not yet seen. I wonder if this was not originally an abstract poem making a witty comparison between these common love situations which are so evocative of poetry, and the poetry one can compose on a moonlit summer night.

The Shinsho also found the poem a bit off, and records a theory that this is a poem written about a forbidden love. The poem is couched in the witty comparison I mentioned above, but actually points to their love which is between a "love after meeting" and a "love for one not yet seen." The feeling would then be that the summer night we shared together is better than these poetically appropriate situations. Kifune seems to generally agree with this approach.

The connection between the cry of the cuckoo and love goes back the MYS, but is also found in anonymous KKS 146:

ほととぎすなく声きけばわかれにし古里さへぞ恋しかりける

When I hear the cry of the cuckoo, I long not only for the people but even for the village I left behind.

158

女のもとにつかはしける

Sent to a woman.

有りとのみおとはの山の郭公ききにきこえてあはずもあるがな

ari to nomi                   I have only heard
otoha no yama no              Rumors of the cuckoo at
hototogisu                    Otoha mountain
kiki ni kikoe-te              I hear it and I hear it
aha-zu mo aru gana            But I can't meet it at all.

Otoha no yama

This is a common image in love poetry. It is an actual mountain but here it's being used to suggest the woman only heard about but not seen.

I hear it and I hear it

kiki ni kikoe-te is a doubling of the verb for emphasis and to fill out the meter.

--

Perhaps as a direct followup to the last poem, here is one on the subject of "love for someone not yet seen."

Some examples from the KKS of the association of Otoha Mountain with cuckoos, and love:

おとは山けさ超えくればほととぎす梢はるかに今ぞなくなる

I crossed over Otoha Mountain this morning but I can still hear the far off cuckoo crying in the branches. (142 Mitsune)

おとは山こだかく鳴きてほととぎすきみがわかれををしむべらなり

At Mount Otoha, the cuckoo crying in the high branches seems to lament my parting from you. (384, Tsurayuki)

おとは山おとに聞きつつ相坂の関のこなたに年をふるかな

I hear only rumors of the Otoha Mountain, but I spend my years on this site of the Meeting Slope Barrier. (473, Motokata)

159

題知らず

Circumstance unknown

伊勢

Ise

こがくれてさ月まつとも郭公はねならはしに枝うつりせよ

kogakure-te                  Hiding in the trees
satuki matu tomo             Waiting for the fifth month
hototogisu                   Even so, cuckoos,
hane narasi ni               Spread your wings and practice now,
eda uturi-seyo               Fly from one branch to to the next.

--

The first poem by a named poet in this volume is on the cuckoo. The position in the anthology suggests the 4th month (the prose preface in the Ise Collection makes this explicit). Cuckoos are generally associated with the fifth month, so here they have not arrived yet. Kudo calls this a humorous poem.

The sentiment is similar to KKS 137, anonymous:

五月待つ山ほととぎすうちはぶき今もなかなむ去年のふる声

Cuckoos waiting for the 5th month; Spread your wings and cry now, the voice I heard last year.

The version of the poem in the Ise Collection is closer to the KKS poem. The last two lines read madasiki hodo no kowe wo kikabaya (I want to hear your immature voice).

160

藤原のかつみの命婦に住みける男、人の手に移り侍りにけるまたの年、かきつばたにつけて、かつみにつかはしける

A man who was living with Myobo Fujiwara no Katsumi, after she had fallen into the hands of another man, attached an iris flower and sent this to Katsumi.

吉岑善方朝臣

Lord Yoshimine no Yoshikata

いひそめし昔のやどの杜若色ばかりこそかたみなりけれ

ihi-some-si                At the old dwelling
mukasi no yado no          Where we spent time together
kakitubata                 The only thing left
iro bakari koso            To act nostalgic for me
katami nari-kere           Is the iris' color.

Prose preface

This is another example of the GSS' prose preface style that has confused and annoyed a number of scholars. It's written in the style of a poem tale using the generic noun wotoko despite this being by a named author. Also, the syntax is in a casual spoken style. Norinaga thought the sentence structure was mistaken, and meant that the man had fallen into the hands of another person. But the context makes the meaning clear, and there's no reason to think this is a mistake. It's simply a casual, spoken-style poem tale preface of the kind favored by the GSS compilers.

--

This is a private love poem embedded in a poem-tale structure. In addition to the comments above, the Shinsho notes that the preface is not really enough to understand the situation, and that we should imagine him standing in the garden. The accusation of vagueness has some merit -- clearly the idea is that the house itself is now visited by the other man, but why should the iris in particular be so nostalgic? Perhaps this is half of a lost poem-tale that had more context, or perhaps this fits with Sato Takaakira's idea that the compilers deliberately included vague or incomplete contexts for the readers to imagine their own situation or conclusion.

The kakitubata (Japanese iris) is a rare image in court poetry. In the seasonal volumes of the first eight collections it occurs only here, and in Kin'yoshu 78 where it is a spring poem. The famous kakitubata poem from the Tales of Ise (and KKS 410) is more about the wordplay and doesn't contain the flower itself.

Perhaps the imagery and reasoning behind the iris ultimately derives from MYS 11.2521:

かきつはた丹つらふ君をいささめにおもひいでつつ嘆きつるかも

You with the face beautiful like the iris; when I remember you suddenly I lament.

161

賀茂の祭りの物見侍りける女の車にいひいれて侍りける

He sent this poem in to a carriage of women going to sightsee at the Kamo Festival.

読み人しらず

Poet unknown

ゆきかへるやそうぢ人の玉かづらかけてぞたのむ葵てふ名を

yukikahe-ru                Going and coming
yasoudi hito no            The mass of people all wear
tamakadura                 Katsura flowers
kake-te zo tanomu          My heart rather relies on
ahuhi tehu na wo           The meeting day hollyhock.

Kamo festival

This was held in the 4th month and was one of the most important festivals of the year. There were purification rituals and great processions of carriages from the capital. Flowers were used as decoration on the carriages, houses, and people. The katsura tree flowers as well as the aoi (hollyhock) were especially common.

Katsura flowers

As above, associated with the Kamo festival. Here it's used to lead into kakete, which refers to putting the flowers on yourself, but also suggests kokoro wo kakete (think deeply in your heart).

Hollyhock

ahuhi can be read as the hollyhock flower, or "meeting day."

--

This is a private exchange done at the Kamo Festival. Since women were not often out in public, this was a good chance for a gallant to send a poem to a carriage of women, especially given the obvious chance offered by the ahuhi hollyhock flower.

162

返し

Response

ゆふだすきかけてもいふなあだ人の葵てふなはみそぎにぞせし

yuhudasuki                    While wearing your sash
kakete mo ihu na              Don't talk about meeting days.
adabito no                    The hollyhock name
ahuhi tehu na ha              Of one who is unfaithful,
misogi ni zo sesi             Our lustrations washed away.

Sash

This is basically a pillow word for kakete because you put on (kakeru) the sash, which leads into kakete mo (not at all). However, given the context of the Kamo Festival it also acts as a word relevant to the scene.

Meeting days

This poem has the same wordplay as the last one, with ahuhi as both "hollyhock" and "meeting day".

--

The women's response deftly turns the romantic language used by the man back on him. They put the word kakete to good use, playing on three meanings -- the "think deeply in one's heart" from the man's poem, the wearing of the sash, and the meaning of kakete mo (not at all). The ritual purifications of the festival are used to suggest that by washing the hollyhock clean, the man's attempt at a flighty romance has also been swept away. Kifune says that this is a skilled poet familiar with the world (or at least the conventions of turning a man away via a poem).

The imagery recalls the anonymous KKS 487, with the same play on kakete ("wear" and "think of").

ちはやぶる賀茂の社のゆうだすき一日も君をかけぬ日はなし

The sash of the Kamo Shrine: there is not a day I don't think of you.

However, the triple play on kakete mo is new to this poem.

163

題知らず

Circumstance unknown

このごろはさみだれちかみ郭公思ひみだれてなかぬ日ぞなき

kono goro ha                    At this time of year
samidare tika-mi                The rains of the fifth month near
hototogisu                      And so the cuckoo
omohi-midare-te                 With thoughts all in a tizzy
naka-nu hi zo naki              There's no day it doesn't cry.

--

On the surface this is a simple seasonal poem, using the image of the fifth month rains to explain why the cuckoo cries so much. Kifune sees it in this way, and adds that there is a humorous touch to the midare of samidare (fifth month rains) being reused in omohi-midare (thoughts in a tizzy).

Most commentators see a hidden love meaning here, with the initial three lines leading into the disordered thoughts and crying of the poet. This seems to match KKS 153, a poem composed by Tomonori at a poetry contest:

五月雨に物思ひをればほととぎす夜ふかくなきていづち行くらむ

When I am worrying in the fifth month rains, where is the cuckoo going, crying all night long?

Although this is a seasonal image, the mono-omohi is strongly connected with love poetry, especially by women.

This poem is probably a honka for Shoku goshuishu 303, by Minamoto no Toshiyori:

このごろは小舟の山にたつ鹿の声をほにあげてなかぬ日ぞなき

At this time of year, the voices of the deer on Obune Mountain raise the sail and never stop crying.

(The "raise the sail" is a pun on Obune mountain, which means "small boat mountain".)

Finally, this poem occurs in current manuscripts of the Tsurayuki Collection. Given how interested the compilers were in Tsurayuki's poetry, and the fact that one of the compilers was Ki no Tsurayuki's son, it seems more likely that this is an anonymous poem that later became associated with Tsurayuki somehow.

164

[Circumstance unknown] [Poet unknown]

まつ人は誰ならなくにほととぎす思ひの外になかばうからん

matu hito ha                The one who's waiting
tare nara-naku ni           Is myself and no one else,
hototogisu                  So cuckoo, if you
omohi no hoka ni            Cry where they are not waiting,
naka-ba uka-ran             I will be quite mad at you.

--

The first line could mean either "the one who is waiting" or "the one who I am waiting for." If you follow Katagiri and see a subtext of a love poem here (with a woman waiting for a man), then the latter meaning would fit better.

This poem occurs in the Emperor Teiji Poetry Contest with a slightly different second line (tune nara-naku ni).

165

にほひつつちりにし花ぞおもほゆる夏は緑の葉のみしげれば

nihohi-tutu                    While still in beauty
tiri-ni-si hana zo             The flowers all have scattered,
omohoyuru                      They come to my mind
natu no midori no              In summer when all that grows
ha nomi sigere-ba              Are the profuse leaves of green.

--

Even in the summer, the poets in the capital still long for the spring flowers. The dominant image of the surrounding poems is the cuckoo, and this single poem on green leaves and fallen flowers appear. Katagiri connects it to the next poem, which is also about looking back on spring.

Jotomon-in seems to have used this poem as a honka in Gyokuyoshu 2301. The prose preface says that she was lamenting the late Emperor Go-Suzaku, and when she was at the Shirakawa-in in the 4th month, she looked at branches where the flowers had fallen.

をしまれし梢の花はちりはてていとふみどりの葉のみしげれば

The flowers I longed for have fallen completely, and only the hateful green leaves are blooming.

This poem appears in the 4th miscellaneous book and is clearly a sorrow poem. Perhaps influenced by this poem, Nakayama (Shinsho) thinks that there may be a hidden meaning behind the GSS poem as well. Kifune thinks that 163-165 were arranged to make a love story (thus the suppression of the poetry contest context of 164). This poem then becomes one of sorrow for a relationship that has ended.

166

朱雀院の東宮におはしましける時、帯刀ら、五月ばかり御書所にまかりて、酒などたうべて、これかれ歌よみけるに

When Emperor Suzaku was still Crown Prince, the Crown Prince's Guards went to the Records Office, drank and ate, and various people composed poems.

大春日師範

Okasuga no Moronori

さみだれに春の宮人くる時は郭公をやうぐひすにせん

samidare ni              In the fifth month rains
haru no miyabito         When the palace men of spring
kuru toki ha             Come and gather here,
hototogisu wo ya         If only the cuckoo could
uguhisu ni se-n          Turn into a warbler now!

still Crown Prince

This was between 925 and 930.

Crown Prince's Guards

The 帯刀, read tatihaki, are a group of about 30 men who served as guards for the Crown Prince. The Records Office (gozyosyo) is evidently where they worked.

Okasuga no Moronori

Known only from this poem, although the 14th century Chokusen sakusha burui says that he was of the 6th rank.

Fifth month rains

samidare also plays on sa midare ("in this state of confusion"), referring to their drinking.

Palace men of spring

Because tougu (Crown Prince) can be written as 東宮, using the character for "spring," this is a reference to the Crown Prince's guards.

--

This is a public occasional poem of greeting. Moronori wants the more appropriate spring warbler to be there rather than the summer cuckoo, because of the Crown Prince's association with spring.

A similar idea occurs in the poetry collection of Onakatomi no Yorimoto, a poet contemporary with the GSS compilers. It was written at an autumn gathering when they visited the Crown Prince, and they heard geese crying.

鳴く雁は来るか帰るかおぼつかな春の宮にて秋のよなれば

It's unclear whether the crying geese are going or coming, because we're at the Spring Palace in autumn.

Geese leave in the spring and return in the autumn.

167

夏の夜、深養父が琴弾くを聞きて

On a summer night, he heard [Kiyohara no] Fukayabu's koto playing.

藤原兼輔朝臣

Lord Fujiwara no Kanesuke

みじか夜のふけゆくままに高砂の峯の松風ふくかとぞきく

midikayo no                The short summer night
huke-yuku mama ni          Continues to deepen, and
takasago no                It seems that I hear
mine no matukaze           The wind blowing through the pines
huku ka to zo kiku         Of the Takasago Peak.

--

The image of short summer nights occurs in KKS 156, 157, and 166, but in those poems they are combined with summer imagery like the cuckoo. The GSS uses the image to show things that actually occured on short summer nights. In this case, a gathering of friends. This poem and 168 are occasional poems of praise for the koto.

Clearly the poem is praising the koto playing by comparing it to the sound of wind through mountain pines, but the basis of this comparison is not immediately clear. Many commentaries seem to interpret this in light of SIS 451, which was composed on a set topic of a Chinese line of verse: 松風入夜琴　(The autumn wind entering a koto at night). This seems to derive from the Tang poet Li Jiao. The poem, by Princess Kishi, is as follows:

琴の音に峰の松風通ふらしいづれのおより調べそめけん

The sound of the koto seems to resemble the mountain wind. Which mountain, and which string, is the music coming from?

In addition to the Li Jiao line, Katagiri and Kudo cite several Bai Juyi poems that compare the koto playing to a mountain wind. So it seems like this comparison may have been simply picked up from Chinese precedent.

This is one of two poems from the summer volume selected by Fujiwara no Shunzei in his Korai futeisho.

168

同じ心を

With the same feeling

つらゆき

[Ki no] Tsurayuki

葦引きの山した水はゆきかよひことのねにさへながるべらなり

asibiki no                   The water flowing
yamasitamizu ha              Hidden in the mountain trees 
yuki-kayohi                  Is like the playing
koto no ne ni sahe           Of the koto which also
nagaru bera-nari             Moves me to tears with its sound.

asibiki no

This is a pillow word for yama (mountain).

Tears

nagaru (flow) plays on nakaru (cry).

--

The prose preface would seem to indicate that this was read by Tsurayuki at some other gathering about someone else's playing. The poem is not in the Tsuayuki Collection so there is no more information than what we have here. A few non-Teika texts drop the prose preface (making it take the same preface as the preceeding poem), but the connection between the poems is clear regardless. The Shinsho and Kifune both note the pairing of the wind and the mountain water in the two poems.

Katagari intreprets the first part of the poem as a humble reference to Tsurayuki himself -- "Even I, uncultured as I am, am brought to tears by your playing." But he also notes a parallel that was also mentioned by pre-modern commentators as well. It was said that the Summer and Autumn period figures Bo Ya and Zhong Ziqi were such good friends, that anything Bo Ya played, Zhong Ziqi could understand. If Bo Ya thought of mountains while he played, Ziqi would feel the playing as mountains. If Bo Ya thought of flowing water, Ziqi would hear that as well. So in that respect the poem could be seen as showing Tsurayuki's friendship with whoever was playing the instrument, and also provide a comparison between the playing and the mountains and water.

169

題しらず

Circumstance unknown

藤原高経朝臣

Lord Fujiwara no Takatsune

夏の夜はあふ名のみして敷妙のちりはらふまにあけぞしにける

natu no yo ha               On nights of summer
ahu na nomi si-te           "Meeting" is only a word,
sikitahe no                 In the time it takes
tiri harahu ma ni           To brush the dust from the bed,
ake zo si-ni-keru           The day has already come.

bed

Usually sikitahe is a pillow word for "pillow" or other things, but here it is functioning as a noun for the bed itself.

--

This is a love poem. In the KKS, such a poem occurs in the love volumes, such as 635 by Ono no Komachi:

秋の夜も名のみなりけり逢ふといへば事ぞともなく明けぬるものを

The autumn night is just a name! We say "meeting" but before anything happens it dawns.

Here the poem serves to lead into a series of poems on love and the shortness of summer nights.

170

[Circumstance unknown]

壬生忠岑

[Mibu no Tadamine]

夢よりもはかなき物は夏の夜の暁がたの別れなりけり

yume yori mo                   What I have found is
hakanaki mono ha               More ephemeral than a dream:
natu no yo no                  On a summer night
akatukigata no                 As the dawn breaks with pale light
wakare nari-keri               I must part from you, my love.

--

My translation is fairly expansive and flowery, but it perhaps fits better with the prose preface given in the Tadamine Collection for this poem: "He had been secretly seeing a woman, and after nothing had happened, dawn broke, so he wrote this to her."

Similar poems are found in the KKS, such as 859 by Oe no Chisato:

もみぢ葉を風にまかせて見るよりもはかなき物は命なりけり

What is more ephemeral than looking at falling autumn leaves blowing in the breeze, is life.

The Hyoshaku calls this a "beautiful poem." The pseudo-Teika Teika juttei includes this as an example of the Yugen style, suggesting a profound depth.

171

あひしりて侍りける中の、かれこれも心ざしは有りながら、つつむことありて、えあはざりければ

In the midst of a relationship, they both had intent [to continue], but there were things preventing them, and they could not meet.

[Poet unknown]

よそながら思ひしよりも夏の夜の見はてぬ夢ぞはかなかりける

yoso nagara                       When we had not met,
omohi-si yori mo                  Longing for you from afar,
natu no yo no                     Even more fleeting
mi-hate-nu yume zo                Is the unfinished dreaming
hakanakari-keru                   Of a short summer night.

--

This is a love poem. The vague poem preface suggests a story without providing the specifics, but the theme of a forbidden love (usually because of status) is a common one in court love poetry. See 157 above for a similar idea.

But what is the unfinished dreaming? It seems to be a metaphor for the two being unable to meet. The Shinsho links this to the idea that one would meet a lover in dreams because they could not meet in real life, but this dream meeting was usually said to be unfulfilling. Some texts read noti instead of naka, which would make the first phrase "After meeting..." In this case, the "dream" would be a reference to the single short night they spent together.

KKS 609 by Tadamine also uses the imagery found in this poem:

命にもまさりておしくある物は見果てぬ夢の覚むるなりけり

What is even more regretful than life is awakening from an unfinished dream.

The Hyoshaku labels this a skilled poem, that evokes the ephemeral well.

172

夏の夜、しばし物語して帰りにける人のもとに、またのあしたつかはしける

On a summer night, after chatting for a bit the man went home, and she sent this to him the next morning

伊勢

Ise

ふた声と聞くとはなしに郭公夜深くめをもさましつるかな

hutakowe to                    Not even hearing
kiku to ha nasi ni             The second cry from the lips
hototogisu                     Of the cuckoo bird
yobukaku me wo mo              In the deepness of the night
samasi-turu kana               I have now been awakened.

--

The cuckoo image comes back as the summer night love poetry continues, although this poem does not involve the short night. The cuckoo who only cries a single time acts as a metaphor for the man who returns too quickly.

The poem is similar to KKS 156 by Tsurayuki:

夏の夜のふすかとすればほととぎすなくひとこゑに明くるしののめ

On a summer night as soon as I lay down, day dawns with a single cuckoo cry.

In Ise's poem the dawn has not yet come.

This poem also appears as SIS 96, where it is said to be a poem on a screen painting. In the Ise Collection it is an occasional summer poem, composed when Ise heard a cuckoo at night. It also appears in the Kokin waka rokujo attributed to Mitsune, and in the Fujiwara no Motosuke Collection. Apparently this was a popular poem that spread around in various guises.

173

人のもとにつかはしける

Sent to a person

藤原安国

Fujiwara no Yasukuni

あふと見し夢にならひて夏の日のくれがたきをも歎きつるかな

ahu to mi-si                   I've gotten used to
yume ni narahi-te              Dreams where the two of us met
natu no hi no                  And on summer nights
kure-gataki wo mo              I find myself lamenting
nageki-turu kana               How long it takes to get dark!

--

This is another love poem on short summer nights, although in this case rather than lamenting the shortness of the night itself, the poet laments how long it will take to get dark. The poet seems to be waiting to meet his lover in dreams since they cannot meet for real. Another interpretation of the poem is that they now are meeting for real, and he is lamenting how long it will take for night to fall so they can meet. The latter seems to be a minority position.

174

[Sent to a person]

よみ人しらず

Poet unknown

うとまるる心しなくは郭公あかぬ別れにけさはけなまし

utoma-ruru                      If your shallow heart
kokoro si naku ha               Did not fill me with distaste
hototogisu                      O you cuckoo bird,
aka-nu wakare ni                In our parting before dawn
kesa ha ke-na-masi              I would not vanish away.

Distaste

Utomaruru can be either passive, or 自発 (spontaneous). I interpret it as the latter.

--

This is another love poem with the cuckoo as a metaphor for the unfeeling man who leaves before dawn. The utomaruru may refer to the man, in which case he dislikes the woman. More commentators take this to be the woman's feeling at the man's action.

The poem seems to be based on the anonymous KKS 147:

ほととぎすなが鳴くさとのあまたあれば猶うとまれぬ思ふものから

O cuckoo, you cry at so many different houses, so indeed I am filled with distaste, and yet...

If this is the source, the poem is criticizing the man for having multiple lovers. If his heart were not so shallow, he would feel more deeply for her and she would not have to die from his neglect.

175

思うこと侍りけるころ、ほととぎすを聞きて

When they were thinking, they heard a cuckoo.

[Poet unknown]

折はへてねをのみぞなく郭公しげきなげきの枝ことにゐて

worihahete                   They cry and they cry
ne wo nomi zo naku           On and on without ceasing
hototogisu                   The flocks of cuckoo
sigeki nageki no             Sitting on many branches
eda koto ni wi-te            Of the trees of my laments.

Trees of my laments

nageki (lament) is a pivit word leading into ki (tree).

--

This is a poem of worry, perhaps about love, perhaps about something else. It uses the summer cuckoo image as a metaphor for the poet's continuous crying.

The poem may be based on the anonymous KKS 150:

あしきひの山ほととぎすをりはへて誰かまさると音をのみぞ鳴く

The cuckoos from the mountains seem to be continuously crying, daring anyone to cry louder.

Another similar poem is in Tales of Yamato 65:

なげきのみしげきみ山のほととぎす木隠れゐても音をのみぞ鳴く

All I do is lament like the cuckoo in the densely wooded mountain; crying ceaselessly it hides among the trees. (Trans. Tahara)

This poem appears in the Ise Collection with a different second line (naki-nu bera-nari "I seem to hear them cry").

176

四五月ばかり、遠き国へまかり下らむとするころ、郭公を聞きて

In the fourth or fifth month, as he was preparing to go to a far province, he heard a cuckoo

[Poet unknown]

ほととぎすきては旅とや鳴き渡る我は別れのをしき宮こを

hototogisu                      The cuckoo has come
ki-te ha tabi ya to             Continuously crying
naki-wataru                     "This is a journey!"
ware ha wakare no               But for me, the capital
wosiki miyako wo                Is difficult to part from.

Far province

Probably he has received an appointment to one of the provinces far from the capital; an undesirable post that was sometimes interpreted as an exile.

--

This is a travel, or parting poem using the imagery of the cuckoo in the summer. Exactly what "This is a journey!" (tabi ya) means is unclear. Kigin and Kifune interpret it to mean that the cuckoo has come to visit the capital, and thus considers this his joyful destination. But the poet is sad to part from it. Kudo and Katagiri seem to think the cuckoo is starting the journey along with the poet.

The idea of the sad cry of the cuckoo may build on the anonymous KKS 145:

夏山に鳴くほととぎす心あらば物思ふ我に声な聞かせそ

O cuckoo that cries in the mountains: if you have a heart, do not let me in my sorrow hear your voice.

177

題しらず

独りゐて物思ふ我を郭公ここにしもなく心あるらし

178

玉匣あけつるほどのほととぎすただふたこゑもなきてこしがな

179

五月ばかりに物いふ女につかはしける

かずならぬわが身山べの郭公このはがくれのこゑはきこゆや

Variant Text poems

なつのよはかたらひなからあけぬるをくものいつくに月... (shirakawa text)

亭子院歌合に くさまくらたびねをこひにかへたらばこころをくだくものならましや (Futarashibon)