Gosenshu 5

Gosen wakashu Volume 5: Autumn 1 後撰和歌集巻第五　秋上

The importance of autumn to the waka poets of the Heian period cannot be overstated. The 227 poems in the three autumn volumes comprise nearly half of the seasonal poems, a similar ratio to the KKS. The GSS uses not only the autumn imagery from the KKS, but liberally includes love poems. Many of them rely on a pun with the word aki, which can mean the season of autumn, or a lack of fulfillment. In love poetry, the latter typically refers to the feeling one party has when the love affair is not going well, or the idea that one of the members has become tired of the other. This pun is so common that I will not mention it every time it occurs; it should perhaps be considered as underlying the entire volume.

217

是貞親王の家の歌合に

At Prince Koresada's poetry competition

よみ人しらず

Poet unknown

にはかにも風のすずしくなりぬるか秋立つ日とはむべもいひけり

nihaka ni mo                  Oh how suddenly
kaze no suzusiku              The wind has changed and become
nari-nuru ka                  Cooler on this day!
aki tatu hi to ha             No wonder they are saying
mube mo ihi-keri              That autumn has now started.

Prince Koresada's poetry competition

A competition held probably in 892. It seems to have centered on autumn poems, and was a major source of autumn poetry for the KKS. The GSS takes three autumn poems from it.

--

As might be expected from a poetry competition poem, this is a witty poem on the relation of the naming of seasons to the feel of the air. It is reminiscent of SIS 1, where just hearing that it's spring makes you see mist on the mountain. The beginning of the KKS autumn volume also uses the autumn wind:

秋きぬと目にはさやかに見えねども風の音にぞおどろかれぬる

It is not clear to the eye that autumn has come, but I get surprised by the sound of the wind.

KKS 170, by Tsurayuki, is also similar:

川風の涼しくもあるかうち寄する波とともにや秋はたつらむ

The wind off the river is cold! Perhaps autumn has come along with the approaching waves.

Public poems like this are relatively uncommon in the GSS, but as with the spring volume, the compilers begin by introducing seasonal themes through this public, artificial poetry, which will then be followed by examples of its use in occasional or private poetry.

218

題知らず

Circumstance unknown

[Poet unknown]

うちつけに物ぞ悲しきこのはちる秋の始めをけふぞとおもへば

utituke ni                    All of a sudden
mono zo kanasiki              I feel sad for no reason.
ko no ha tiru                 Because I think that
aki no hazime wo              The beginning of autumn,
kehu zo to omohe-ba           When leaves scatter, is today.

--

The poetry contest poem is followed by an anonymous poem that could be seen as having a love connotation, but is basically just a seasonal autumn poem. Here, the falling leaves, which is the major theme of autumn, is connected to a general sadness. The use of the tochiho (inverted syntax) fronts the sudden feeling of sadness that results.

This poem appears in the Wakan roeishu paired with KKS 169 (see above).

219

物思ふ侍りけるころ、秋立つ日、人につかはしける

At a time she was worrying, on the first day of autumn, she sent this to a person

[Poet unknown]

たのめこし君はつれなし秋風はけふよりふきぬわが身かなしも

tanome-ko-si                  You I relied on
kimi ha turenasi              Have now become cold to me.
akikaze ha                    The wind of autumn
kehu yori huki-nu             Has started blowing today.
waga mi kanasi mo             I am sad you care no more.

--

After the first two poems introducing the start of autumn and autumn wind, we have an anonymous love poem by a woman who has been abandoned by a man (alternatively, she is using this language to invite him to visit after an absence.)

The bottom part may be based on KKS 819:

あしべより雲居をさしてゆく雁のいやとほざかるわが身かなしも

The goose is flying away, heading from the reeds to the clouds above, and I am sad.

Here too, the initial seasonal image becomes a metaphor for the poet's sadness.

220

思ふこと侍りけるころ

At a time when she was worrying about something

[Poet unknown]

いとどしく物思ふやどの荻の葉に秋とつげつる風のわびしさ

itodosiku                  It adds even more,
mono omohu yado no         On the ogi plants that grow
wogi no ha ni              In my worry house
aki tuge-turu              The sadness of the wind that
kaze no wabisi-sa          Heralds the start of autumn.

ogi

A grass, the "amur silvergrass", that is an autumn image in poetry.

--

Like 219, this is the poem of a woman forgotten by her lover. The autumn wind adds even more sadness to her already sad existence. Perhaps this poem was inspired by the anonymous KKS 221:

なきわたる雁の涙やおちつらむ物思ふ宿の萩の上の露

The tears of the crying goose seem to be falling -- the dew on the hagi in the house of worry.

Another source might be SIS 139 by Tsurayuki, composed in 918:

荻の葉のそよぐ音こそ秋風の人に知らるる始めなりけり

People first recognize the autumn wind when they hear it rustling the leaves of the ogi plant.

221

題知らず

Circumstance unknown

[Poet unknown]

秋風のうち吹きそむるゆふぐれはそらに心ぞわびしかりける

akikaze no                 On an evening when
uti-fuki-somuru            The autumn wind suddenly
yuhugure ha                Blows for the first time,
sora ni kokoro zo          My heart, not for a reason,
wabisikari-keru            Turns to sorrow as I gaze.

sora

This plays on the sky, where the wind is and the poet is gazing, and also sora ni, which means "for no reason", or "restless", among other things.

--

This continues the theme of the autumn wind suddenly springing up, and the connection between the autumn wind, the beginning of fall, and the sorrow felt. By itself this would have no particular love connotation, but given the surrounding poems we may once again imagine a woman who has been abandoned by her lover.

The imagery is probably suggested by KKS 787, by Tomonori (in the Love 5 volume):

秋風は身をわけてしも吹かなくに人の心のそらになるらん

The autumn wind does not split a person in two, but it seems that it makes the heart restless.

222

[Circumstance unknown]

大江千里

[Oe no Chisato]

露わけしたもとほすまもなきものをなど秋風のまだきふくらん

tuyu wake-si                 Though there is no time
tamoto hosu ma mo            To dry my sleeves, wet through from
naki mono wo                 Walking through the dew,
nado akikaze no              Why does the wind of autumn
madaki fuku-ran              Seem to be blowing early?

--

The surface meaning of this poem is that the poet's robes are wet from making his way through the dew soaked plants, and the cold autumn wind is blowing early (either too early for the season, or early in the morning). The underlying love meaning is after the man has parted from the woman. As he makes his way home through the dew (suggesting tears), he wonders why the woman has already forgotten him (using the usual play on aki mentioned at the beginning of this volume).

The imagery of this poem may be based on SKKS 1374, a reworking of MYS 10.1994 that appeared in the Hitomaro collection of the early Heian period):

夏草の露分け衣着もせぬになど我が袖のかはく時なき

I am not wearing the clothing that I used to walk through the dew-soaked summer plants, so why are my sleeves never dry?

SIS 720, by Taira no Yukitoki, is another similar poem:

朝まだき露分けきつる衣手のひるまばかりに恋しきやなぞ

Why do I long for you already, just in the time that my clothes are drying from making my way through the morning dew?

However, the above poems both express the man's longing to see the woman again, whereas Chisato's poem seems to be wondering if the woman has so quickly forgotten him. This is somewhat unusual imagery, and the Shinsho thought that maybe this was another example of Chisato using a line of Chinese verse to construct a poem. Even in that case, though, the love meaning would still be under the surface.

223

女のもとより七月ばかりにいひをこせて侍りける

This was sent from a woman in the seventh month.

よみ人しらず

Poet unknown

秋はぎを色どる風の吹きぬればひとの心もうたがはれけり

akihagi wo                 When the wind has blown
irodoru kaze no            Staining the leaves red of the
huki-nure-ba               Autumn bush clover,
hito no kokoro mo          I then come to suspect too
utagaha-re-keri            Your heart will fade and scatter.

bush clover

The hagi is a plant that flowers in autumn, and the reddish color of its blossoms was often related to the red color of the autumn leaves.

--

223 and 224 are an exchange between an unnamed woman and Ariwara no Narihira; as is common in the GSS, his name is suppressed in the prose preface here. The image of the falling leaves is often connected to the idea of a man losing interest in a woman, bolstered by the usual wordplay on aki.

This poem is perhaps related to KKS 714 by Sosei:

秋風に山の木の葉のうつろへば人の心もいかがとぞ思ふ

When the autumn wind makes the leaves scatter, I also wonder about the heart of you (my love).

Some alternate manuscripts of the GSS read itu ka to zo omohu ("I wonder when your heart will fade as well") for the last line, making the parallel stronger. The GSS poem uses a different image to suggest that just the beginning of autumn makes the woman doubt Narihira's heart.

This poem and the following are part of Tales of Yamato 160; see the commentary on the next poem for details.

224

返し

Response

在原業平朝臣

Lord Ariwara no Narihira

あき萩を色どる風は吹きぬとも心はかれじ草ばはらねば

akihagi wo                Though it comes to pass
irodoru kaze ha           That wind has blown and colored
huki-nu tomo              The fall bush clover,
kokoro ha kare-zi         My heart won't leave and wither,
kusaba nara-ne-ba         Since it is not made of grass.

Leave and wither

This is a very common wordplay with the verb karu, meaning both "wither" and "part from".

--

Narihira's response picks up on the imagery of the woman's -- even if the autumn wind colors the bush clover, the wind of boredom will not cause his heart to wither (and he will not part from her). Hisamatsu Sen'ichi considered this poem simple and direct in its meaning, but skillful in construction.

As mentioned above, Tales of Yamato 160 begins with this poetic exchange. The woman is Lady Somedono, who cannot be certainly identified. The story continues saying that Narihira did in fact stop visiting her, and then after some time asked her to sew robes for him (a common duty of a wife in the Heian period), and a further poetic exchange follows. It is interesting that the next poem in the GSS is about a man who asks a woman he is no longer visiting to sew robes for him. This is perhaps just a coincidence, as Sato Komei has demonstrated that the compilers of the GSS do not seem to have borrowed directly from Tales of Yamato (if it was completed by the time their work on the GSS ended).

225

源昇朝臣、時々まかり通ひける時に、文月の四五日ばかりに、「七日の料の装束調じて」といひつかはして侍りければ

When Lord Minamoto no Noboru was visiting from time to time, on the 4th or 5th of the 7th month, when he sent a message saying "Make some clothing for the Tanabata festivities"

閑院

Kan'in

あふことはたなばたつめにひとしくてたちぬふわざはあえずぞありける

ahu koto ha                      We meet so rarely,
tanabata-tume ni                 And that, to be sure, is like
hitosiku-te                      The weaving girl's case:
tati-nuhu waza ha                Sadly my sewing does not
ae-zu zo ari-keru                Match up to her example.

Kan'in

An unknown woman who is also the author of 1175 (where the prose preface says she lived in a mountain village), and some commentaries identify her as the "Lady Kan'in" of Tales of Yamato 45 as well.

Tanabata fesitivites

On the 7th day of the 7th month, to celebrate the one day where the celestial Orihime (weaving girl of the poem) can meet her lover Hikoboshi, men would gather in formal clothing, drink, and compose Chines poetry.

--

The Tanabata legend and festival was already a significant poetic trope of the KKS, and it reappears here. Noboru's request was not unusual, as can be seen from the Kagero Diary. There, Kane'ie several times requests clothing from the Mother of Michitsuna, even when their relationship has cooled. Kan'in's bitter response uses the festival's imagery to criticize him for his lack of visits. The poem was either used to refuse the request, or it accompanied the clothing and had the dual purpose of humbling her ability while criticizing Noboru.

The poems from here to 249 are about the Tanabata legend, forming a significant block of poetry in the early autumn season.

226

題知らず

Circumstance unknown

よみ人も

Also the poet

天河渡らむそらもおもほえずたえぬ別れと思ふものから

amanogawa                   I can't find my way
watara-mu sora mo           The place in the sky to cross
omohoe-zu                   The Heaven River
tae-nu wakare to            Though I know that this parting
omohu mono kara             Is not for ever after.

sky

The word sora here refers both to the sky where the heavenly river is, but also a distracted, sorrowful feeling at the parting.

--

This is another Tanabata poem. It can be a poem written in the voice of Hikoboshi (examples of which are found in the KKS), or it might be a poem written by a man leaving his lover in the morning. The tae-nu wakare (literally "a parting that does not break") seems like a contradiction, providing the interest of the poem.

227

七月七日に「夕方まで来む」といひて侍りけるに、雨降り侍りければまで来で

On the 7th day of the 7th month he said "I will come this evening", then it rained and he did not come.

源中正

Minamoto no Nakatada

雨ふりて水まさりけり天河こよひはよそにこひむとや見し

ame huri-te                  Rain has fallen and
mizu masari-keri             The water has risen up,
amanogawa                    In heaven river.
koyohi ha yoso ni            This night I did not think that
kohi-mu to ya mi-si          I'd long for you from afar.

Prose preface

The preface contains nothing indicated when the poem was written or who wrote it, but this is typical of the poem-tale style of the GSS' prefaces.

--

The long series of love poems continues, with another on the Tanabata theme. Nakatada uses the image of Hikoboshi unable to cross the heavenly river to apologize for his own failure to come due to rain. Kifune says that Nakatada knew this was a poor excuse but decided to send the poem anyway because of the imagery of the day, hoping to have some fun with the exchange.

228

返し

Response

よみ人しらず

Poet unknown

水まさり浅きせしらずなりぬともあまのと渡る舟もなしやは

midu masari                    Even if water
asaki se sira-zu               Has risen so you don't know
nari-nu to mo                  The river shallows,
ama no to wataru               How can there be not a boat
hune mo nasi ya ha             To cross the heavenly port?

--

The woman's response rejects Nakatada's excuse, playing on the Tanabata imagery of Nakatada's poem. In Chinese tradition, Orihime crosses on a bridge of magpies to see Hikoboshi. However, the MYS and KKS (e.g. 177 or 212) record alternate traditions where Orihime takes a boat or wades across a shallow portion of the river. Usually it is Orihime who visits Hikoboshi in the legends, but poetry often swaps the roles to fit with Heian customs of men visiting women.

229

七日女のもとにつかはしける

On the 7th day, he sent this to a woman.

藤原兼三

Fujiwara no Kanemi

織女もあふよありけり天河この渡りにはわたるせもなし

tanabata mo               Even Orihime
ahu yo ari-keri           Has a night that she can meet.
ama no gawa               My heaven river,
kono watari ni ha         When I look at the crossing,
wataru se mo nasi         There are no shallows to ford.

--

This is another love poem on the Tanabata imagery. Kifune thinks the context is an upset man sending a letter to a woman who has refused to respond to him. However, the poem appears in the Shuishu (649) as an anonymous poem with no context -- in that sense it could simply be a set poem on the sorrows of unrequited love.

A very similar poem by Emperor Murakami appears in the Shoku gosenshu (916)

今夜さへよそにやきかむわがためのあまのかはらはわたるせもなし

Do I really have to hear about you from afar, even on this night? My heavenly river has no shallows to cross.

230

かれにける男の、七日の夜まできたりければ、女のよみて侍りける

A man who had stayed away came on the night of the 7th day, and the woman read this.

ひこぼしのまれにあふよのとこ夏は打ちはらへどもつゆけかりけり

hikobosi no                   Like Hikoboshi,
mare ni ahu yo no             The nights we meet come rarely,
tokonatu ha                   The summer pink bed
uti-harahe-domo               Though I wipe the dust away,
tuyu-kekari-keri              It remains sodden with dew.

Stayed away

The word karu is used in love poetry to indicate that the man has stopped visiting the woman.

Author

Many texts delete "and the woman read this" from the prose preface and add "poet unknown", conforming the preface to a more standard one for imperial collections. The text as given is more typical of poem tales, and these sorts of prefaces show up here and there in the GSS.

Summer pink bed

The tokonatu (pink) flower here is used to play on toko (bed). The word has a poetic association with dew, suggesting the woman's tears.

Wipe the dust

This is an image of the woman preparing her house for the man's visit.

--

The meaning here is fairly clear; another love poem on the Tanabata theme. The phrasing may come from KKS 188:

ひとり寝る床は草葉にあらねども秋くるよひは露けかりけり

The bed I sleep alone on is not grass, but on autumn nights it is wet with dew.

Another poem that mention the pink in connection with the "abandoned love" theme in include one of Yugao's poems in the "Hahakigi" chapter of the Tale of Genji:

打ち払ふ袖も露けきとこなつに嵐ふきそふ秋もきにけり

The sleeves I use the wipe away the summer pink bed are wet with tears, and the autumn, bringing the blowing storms, has come.

Katagiri notes that there is no particular reason why the pink should be used here -- it's a summer image, not one associated with Tanabata, and there is nothing in the prose preface that would indicate its use. He suggests that this may have originally been a poem on a screen painting, with pinks growing near the house. The use of the image is still somewhat incongruous, though.