Gosenshu 6
Gosen wakashu Volume 6: Autumn 2 後撰和歌集巻第六 秋中
271
延喜御時に秋の歌めしければ、たてまつりける
In the Engi period, [the Emperor] asked for an autumn poem, and [Tsurayuki] provided these.
紀貫之
Ki no Tsurayuki
秋霧の立ちぬる時はくらぶ山おぼつかなくぞ見え渡りける
akigiri no When the autumn mist tati-nuru toki ha Has risen up to enwrap kurabuyama Kurabu Mountain, obotukanaku zo Looking across the whole place mie-watari-keru It is difficult to see.
- Autumn mist
- There's no clear indication whether this should be akigiri or akikiri; I've gone with the majority, but Takeoka reads it akikiri on the basis of other compounds like harukasumi that are unvoiced.
- Kurabu Mountain
- A mountain in old Yamashiro province; used in poetry for its association with kurasi (dark), and thus hard to see or navigate.
--
The second volume of autumn poems begins with two public poems by Tsurayuki in response to Imperial request, which introduce two major autumn themes. The first one is autumn mist, a major theme in KKS autumn poetry as well. The difference between the spring kasumi and autumn kiri is difficult to represent in English translation; there's a tradition of translating kasumi as "haze" and kiri as "mist".
This poem is a fairly simple evocation of the scene of a mountain wrapped in mist, with the pun on the mountain's name.
272
花見にといでにしものを秋の野の霧に迷ひてけふはくらしつ
hanami ni to Although I went out ide-ni-si mono wo Thinking to view the flowers, aki no no no In the autumn field kiri ni madohi-te I've gotten lost in the mist kehu ha kurasi-tu And wasted the whole day through.
--
The second of Tsurayuki's poems introduces the general idea of autumn flowers. Specific flowers will soon begin to show up in the poems; a few of the flowering plants appeared in the first volume but the flowers in particular were not mentioned.
Kigin praised these two poems as skilled and elegant, and a perfect example of Tsurayuki's poetry. Kifune praised the evocation of a dream/fantasy world; the poet wandering lost in the mist, imagining the beautiful flowers he came out to see.
A similar poem appears in the Kokin waka rokujo:
- 音に聞く花見にくれば秋霧の道さまたげに立ち渡りつつ
- I came to see the flowers I heard rumor of, and mist kept rising up to block the path.
Katagiri draws attention to another poem by Tsurayuki, KKS 116:
- 春の野に若菜つまむと来しものをちりかふ花に道はまどひぬ
- I went to the spring fields to pick young shoots, but the scattering cherry blossoms made me lose my way.
273
寛平御時后宮の歌合せに
Read at the Empress' Poetry Competition in the Kampyo era
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
浦ちかくたつ秋きりはもしほやく煙とのみぞ見えわたりける
ura tikaku The mist of autumn tatu akikiri ha Rising down there near the bay: mosiho yaku As smoke that rises keburi to nomi zo From seaweed burned for its salt mie-watari-keru That is all I see it as.
--
The public group of poems continue, this time with a poem from a competition. Although the author is not listed here, it's found in the Okikaze Collection with a slightly different final line (ayamatarikeru, "I mistake it for..."). The image is fairly clear; the smoke from burning seaweed is often found in love poetry to show the smoldering of the poet's heart. A similar poem to this appears in the Nakatsukasa collection but with spring haze instead of autumn mist. SIS 1096 is also similar, written for a screen painting:
- 藻塩焼く煙に馴るる須磨の海人は秋立つ霧も分かずやあるらん
- I wonder if the saltmakers at Suma, so used to the smoke from the burning seaweed, can tell it apart from autumn mist?
274
同じ御時の女郎花合はせに
In the same [Kampyo] era, at a patrinia flower contest
藤原興風
Fujiwara no Okikaze
をるからにわがなはたちぬ女郎花いざおなじくははなばなに見む
woru kara ni I plucked the flower waga na ha tati-nu Rumors started right away, wominahesi The patrinia, iza onajiku ha Well then, if it's all the same, hanabana ni mi-mu I'll just look at all of them!
- In the same era
- According to other records, this was actually in 898, the first year of the Shōtai era.
- Patrinia flower contest
- The Heian nobility engaged in a great deal of "matching contests", where teams each presented a particular item and a judge decided on which one was better. Poetry contests stem from this practice. The patrinia appears in KKS 226-238, showing the importance of the flower. The frequency of use in poetry is partly connected to the name wominaesi, since the first three syllables suggest "woman".
- Plucked the flower
- Plucking a flower is often used in love poetry as a metaphor for a romantic encounter with a woman.
--
This poem, recited at an event where patrinia were being matched, is a humorous poem declaring that Okikaze will look at all the flowers. The other meaning of the poem is that if he's going to get a bad name from sleeping with one woman, he might as well sleep with as many as he can. Hanabana ni may suggest the word hana ni which is used in a few poems to indicate entering a romantic relationship without serious intent.
As noted above, 226-238 in the KKS all feature the patrinia, and several (226 for example) use the idea of picking the flower, and then getting a bad name for being a playboy.
The next three poems are from this contest, serving as a transition between the rigidly artificial poems of the beginning of the book, to the private exchanges that follow.
275
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
秋の野の露におかるる女郎花はらふ人なみぬれつつやふる
aki no no no In the autumn fields tuyu ni oka-ruru They are covered in dew, wominaesi The patrinias harahu hito nami There are none to brush it away nure-tutu ya huru And so, drenched, they pass the time.
--
As with the previous poem, this has a secondary meaning -- the women cry because the men do not visit them, and so they pass their time in tears. Kifune notes the "elegant sorrow" paired with an actual scene of the flowers in the field. The Shinsho also seems to indicate this is an actual view of a field, but the judging contest would have been done in a building of the capital. Some older commentaries suggested the imagery of the second line is the dew being married to the flower; such a reading is found in other Heian poetry (like SIS 160) and is possible here.
276
をみなえし花の心のあだなれば秋にのみこそあひわたりけれ
wominaesi The patrinias hana no kokoro no Have flighty natures in their ada nare-ba Flower hearts, and so aki ni nomi koso It is only in autumn ahi-watari-kere That I can come to see them.
--
The final poem in the sequence has the same comic tone as the other poems. In this case, the poet is explaining why patrinias only bloom in the autumn -- because they have flighty or romantic natures, and so the only time they appear is in the autumn. Some commentators take aki ni nomi koso ahu here to be a play on "only meet in autumn" and "only meet when they are tired of me." Katagiri rejects this view.
Kigin identifies this as a moral lesson to women. Such explanations arise out of a continuing uneasiness with the morality of romantic poetry.
Most texts follow this poem with KKS 1015; there is no particular reason why that poem should be placed here (the autumn imagery is generic), and perhaps Teika eventually excised it from his later manuscripts for that reason.
277
母の服にて里に侍りけるに、先帝の御文たまへりける御返りごとに
When she was at home wearing mourning clothes for her mother, she wrote this response to a letter from the former Emperor.
近江更衣
The Omi Intimate
さみだれにぬれにし袖にいとどしくつゆおきそふる秋のわびしさ
samidare ni In the fifth month rains nure ni si sode ni These sleeves became sopping wet; idodosiku Now even more so tuyu oki-sohuru Dew lays heavy upon them aki no wabisisa The sorrowing of autumn
- Prose preface and author
- The Omi Intimate was a woman in Emperor Daigo's court. An Intimate (koi) is an unofficial rank below that of the Consorts (nyogo); her name would come from either her birthplace, or perhaps her father was connected to Omi in some way. Her identity is uncertain. The rites in effect at the time required a year and 50 days of mourning for a parent, and she would have been away from the palace for at least some of that time. While she was there, Daigo (the "Former Emperor") would have sent her letters, and this poem represents one of her responses. There are other poem exchanges between Omi and Daigo later in this collection, and in some of the later collections.
- Fifth month rains
- This suggests when her mother died.
--
After the three comic poems at the patrinia festival, we take a sharp turn into a mourning poem. The dew which was used humorously to suggest the tears of the patrinia flowers now becomes the tears of the Omi Intimate who has lost her mother. She uses both a summer and an autumn image as metaphors for tears to show her grief. The Kansho says that the poem contains no new imagery or innovative construction, but the poem shows her sorrow well. Kifune tries to read the aki of the last line as meaning "you have forgotten me" but construes that as an expression of thanks. I do not understand this interpretation.
This poem is drawn on several times in the Tale of Genji; most notably in the first chapter when the Emperor (who is based partly on Daigo) sends a messenger to his beloved Kiritsubo's mother. Her response poem is similar to this one but the situation is flipped, with a mother mourning for her child.
The next 12 poems are exchanges, many of them involving the highest ranking men in the court.
278
御返し
Honorable response
延喜御製
The Engi Emperor [Daigo]
おほかたも秋はわびしき時なれどつゆけかるらん袖をしぞ思ふ
ohokata mo Normally it's true aki ha wabisiki That autumn is a season toki nare-do Of sorrow, and yet tuyu kekaru-ran I can only think of your sode wo si zo omohu Sleeves wet with the dew of tears.
--
Daigo's response uses the same imagery as Omi's poem; the emphasis of the last line shows his care and thought for her. He suggests that even though everyone is sorrowful and crying in autumn, her sorrow is even greater.
279
亭子院の御前に花のいとおもしろく朝露の置けるをめして見せさせ給ひて
In the front garden of the Teiji Mansion, there were very beautiful flowers with morning dew laying upon them; he took them and showed them to [Ise].
法皇御製
An Honorable Composition of His Cloistered Eminence [Retired Emperor Uda]
白露のかはるもなにかをしからんありてののちもややうきものを
siratuyu no Why should we lament kaharu mo nani ka When the transient white dew wosika-ran Vanishes away? arite no noti mo It is living forever yaya ukimono wo That's more and more uncertain.
--
We move from Daigo to his father Uda, in an exchange with Ise. The autumn imagery here is the dew. The poem is difficult to interpret; the last two lines are variously interpreted as "Living after the dew" or "If the dew lived longer" -- I have translated Katagiri's suggestion that arite no noti is an idiom from MYS times that means living forever. Katigiri also interprets yaya as "slightly"; I have used the more common interpretation of "gradually".
Some commentators see this as an allusion to Uda's abdication, which Kifune disagrees with. One of Norinaga's disciples wondered if this was an allusion to Ise changing her heart, but Norinaga disagreed with that. The most direct meaning is a reflection on the transience of life and the suffering of the world; perhaps with allusions to actual events.
One possible indication of a reference to Uda's abdication is this poem from when Uda was about to step down:
- 白露のおきしかはればももしきのうつろふ秋はものぞかなしき
- When the white dew laid here vanishes, the fading autumn of the palace is quite sad.
In the Ise Collection 279 and 280 are swapped, making this a response to the next poem.
280
御返し
Honorable Response
伊勢
Ise
うゑたてて君がしめゆふ花なれば玉と見えてやつゆもおくらん
uwe-tate-te You planted with care kimi ga simeyuhu And then marked them as your own hana nare-ba These flowers, and so, tama to mie-te ya Perhaps you can see the dew tuyu mo oku-ran Lying as white shining gems.
--
Ise's response takes Daigo's sorrow and turns it into a more positive light, perhaps alluding to the lotuses of the pure land (Kifune), or the Emperor's virtue (Katagiri).
This poem is reused in the SIS (167), where the prose preface says that Ise composed this poem when asked to by Daigo. The Ise Collection treats this exchange differently in different manuscripts. Some have it like the GSS, while others have this as a poem in response to an Imperial command, with 279 as Daigo's own response.
281
大輔が後涼殿に侍りけるに、藤壺より女郎花を折りてつかはしける
When Taifu was in the Koroden, he sent this from the Fujitsubo along with a patrinia he broke off.
右大臣
The Minister of the Right [Fujiwara no Morosuke]
折りて見る袖さへぬるるをみなへしつゆけき物と今やしるらん
ori-te miru I broke it and looked, sode sahe nururu And even these sleeves are wet, wominahesi The patrinia tuyu-keki mono to Now you surely understand ima ya siru-ran What a dew soaked thing it is.
- Prose Preface
- Taifu was a gentlewoman in the service of Empress Anshi, Morosuke's daughter. The Fujitsubo was near the Koroden, and Morosuke would have had many chances to become acquainted with his daughter's gentlewomen.
--
The next four poems are an exchange between Fujiwara no Morosuke and Taifu. The poems are difficult to interpret; Norinaga was asked by two of his disciples about them and he declared them incomprehensible. The Shinsho also notes that every time you think you understand them it's not quite right, and puts off discussion of them. The modern commenters don't take this line, but they come up with completely different interpretations.
For this poem, I think one of the sticking points is the use of the patrinia flower. Some commenters have insisted on this being a metaphor for Taifu (or even Anshi, according to Kifune). If the patrinia is Taifu, the poem must mean "After just seeing you (patrinia) once, my sleeves are wet; do you understand now what a dew-soaked creature I am?" My issue with this interpretation is that it seems odd to have the symbol for Taifu be drenched in Morosuke's tears, and the poem doesn't make sense if Taifu is the one that's crying. On the other hand, Taifu's response makes the most sense if she is the one crying.
A more direct way to read the poem is that the patrinia is not a symbol for anything; it's simply used as an appropriate seasonal flower, and for its association with dew. this seems to be the interpretation of Kudo. In this case, the poem simply means "Look at the dew on this patrinia just from me picking it; do you now see how much I'm crying over you?"
As a final possibility, if this exchange were included primarily to showcase Taifu's poems, perhaps Morosuke's poem is not especially skillful. He has 13 poems in the GSS and 2 in the SIS, which is not a huge sampling.
282
返し
Response
大輔
Taifu
よろづ世にかからむつゆををみなへしなに思ふとかまだきぬるらん
yoroduyo ni The patrinia kakara-mu tuyu wo Will be covered with the dew wominahesi For eternity; nani omohu to ka Then what could you be thinking madaki nuru-ran That would make you cry so fast?
--
Of course the interpretation of this response depends on what 281 means. With the interpretation I went with above, that Morosuke is the one crying, the meaning of this poem would seem to be that she is mocking his pose of crying. Since he's going to be "crying" all the time, what's he thinking that makes him cry now? She certainly isn't ending the relationship...
However, this is a rather unusual meaning for such a poem -- the more direct meaning would be to apply the crying to her. Morosuke will eventually leave her or forget her, making her cry for eternity. But that hasn't happened yet, so why should she be crying now? A pointed question -- is Morosuke already leaving her? However, this also seems like an odd poem. Perhaps Norinaga and Yamanaka had the right idea in begging off interpretation of these poems.
283
又
Another [poem]
右大臣
Minister of the Right
をきあかすつゆのよなよなへにければまだきぬるともおもはざりけり
woki-akasu I wake each morning tuyu no yonayona Bathed in dew night after night he ni kere-ba Passing the time, so madaki nuru tomo You really shouldn't think that omoha-zari-keri It's too early to be wet.
--
As with the previous two poems, this poem depends on the interpretation of the previous one. Many commenters see a play on nuru meaning "wet" but also "sleep [together]", turning Taifu's word into a sexual play on words. Katagiri disagrees, saying that he didn't think she would go to sleep so early given that he's awake with tears.
284
返し
Response
大輔
Taifu
今ははや打ちとけぬべき白露の心おくまでよをやへにける
ima ha haya It should already uti-toke-nu beki Have melted and opened up siratuyu no The white dew of your kokoro oku made Heart, which remains far from me; yo wo ya he-ni-keru The nights, like the dew, pile up.
- kokoro oku made
- This is a play on kokorooku (be emotionally apart from, show restraint), and oku (the dew laying on something). Kifune emended made to mama (in that way), which does read better but has no manuscript support.
--
The final poem, as the others, has various interpretations. Kifune reads this as "I should have opened my heart, but you stay away".
285
逢ひ知りて侍りける女の、あだ名立ちて侍りければ、久しく訪はざりけり。八月ばかりに、女のもとより、「などかいとつれなき」といひおこせて侍りければ
A woman he had spent time with got a bad name, and so he stopped seeing her. In the 8th month, the woman sent a message saying "Why are you so cold?"
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown.
白露のうへはつれなくおきゐつつ萩のしたばの色をこそ見れ
siratuyu no The white dew on top uhe ha turenaku As if unaware, lays there, oki-wi-tutu On the unchanged leaves, hagi no sitaba no But it's the leaves underneath iro wo koso mire On the bush clover I see.
--
This poem is based on the idea (mentioned earlier) that dew colors autumn leaves, and that the bottoms of the leaves color before the tops. There are two opposite interpretations of this poem. Either "You act like you don't know what's going on, but I know you're sleeping with other men" (Norinaga, Kudo), or "I may have pretended not to know that you're sleeping with other men, but I actually do." (Katagiri, Kifune). The poem continues the dew imagery of the previous exchange.
From the next poem we see the woman is Ise, although this poem does not appear in the Ise Collection. More about this in the commentary to the next poem.
286
返し
Response
伊勢
Ise
心なき身は草葉にもあらなくに秋くる風にうたがはるらん
kokoronaki My unfeeling heart mi ha kusaba ni mo Does not color like that of ara-naku ni The trees and grasses, aki kuru kaze ni So when the autumn wind comes, utagaha-ru-ran Why am I now suspected?
- unfeeling heart
- The meaning of kokoronaki in this poem is unclear. Kigin had this describing the plants, but that's not grammatically tenable. The Shinsho cites a Kamemaro[?] as saying this means "without guile", but Nakayama notes this definition has no proof. Kifune agrees with it anyway. Kudo and Katagiri both interpret as humble for Ise, meaning that she lacks the ability to feel elegant or cultured things.
--
The overall intent of the poem seems clear enough, although the meaning of kokoronaki is not certain. It doesn't quite work as a response to 285, however. In the Ise Collection this poem is a response to GSS 933, which uses the wind and does not specify that the woman is cheating. Strangely, this poem and GSS 933 reappear as GSS 1272 and 1273, whereas GSS 933 is given its own new response. Why these poems should appear in such a disordered fashion is not clear -- the Tales of Yamato and Tales of Ise are known for taking standalone poems and putting them into poem tales, and perhaps this was one such effort. This may be evidence that the GSS never received definitive editing. The Ise Collection itself has parts that seem to be invented poem-tales around Ise's poetry. In any case, this poem works better as a response to 933/1272 than to 285.
287
男のもとにつかはしける
Sent to a man
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
人はいざ事ぞともなきながめにぞ我はつゆけき秋もしらるる
hito ha iza You I'm not sure of, koto zo to mo naki When I gaze into the rain nagame ni zo For no real reason ware ha tuyu-keki I come to know that for me aki mo sira-ruru The dew soaked autumn has come.
- Gaze into the rain
- The pun is on nagame (gaze and long rains).
--
This poem uses stock cliched puns, and the repetition of zo in the second and third lines is not especially good. Kigin's Hachidaishusho text has mo instead in the second line, but there is no prior manuscript evidence for this.
288
人のもとに尾花のいと高きをつかはしたりければ、返事に忍草を加へて
[Ise] sent a very tall obana grass, and this response was sent with a shinobu fern.
中宮宣旨
Imperial Handmaid
花すすきほにいづる事もなきやどは昔忍ぶの草をこそ見れ
hanasusuki Though the susuki ho ni iduru koto mo Grows tall with seeds, I do not naki yado ha At this lonely house mukasi sinobu no The only thing I look at kusa wo koso mire Are the old shinobu ferns.
- Imperial Handmaid
- Perhaps this is the same person as in poem 1127, a handmaid in the court of Empress Onshi. Ise also served in Onshi's court. Some texts specify "Former". Other texts read "Shosho no Naishi", the author of 944.
- obana
- This is another name for the susuki; the word shows up in only one love poem in the KKS.
- shinobu fern
- The shinobugusa is another name for the nokinoshinobu, a type of fern. The term shinobu in the plant name suggests the creeping growth like ivy, but it also puns on shinobu "to remember fondly" or "to long for".
--
We don't know why Ise sent a susuki grass, although it may have been intended as an invitation (see the next poem). The handmaid returns a fern -- perhaps this is after Onshi's death, and now her time of public prestige is past. All she can do is sit in her house, remembering the old days. In other words, the shinobu fern is more suitable for her situation than a susuki stalk. Usually the susuki grass is used in poetry to show that one's feeling for a lover has not been shared. Here it seems to only mean that the handmaid no longer goes out in public, although Nakayama in the Shinsho wondered if this might also refer to a lack of lovers.
This is another prose preface that avoids mentioning Ise's name -- there are a curious number of these associated with Ise, and Norinaga felt that this was a result of copying the prefaces directly from the Ise Collection, where the subject would have been obvious. This could be the result of hasty editing, or it could be a deliberate decision by the compilers to preserve a vaguer, "poem-tale" like feeling.
289
返し
Response
伊勢
Ise
やどもせにうゑなめつつぞ我は見るまねくをばなに人やとまると
yado mo se ni My garden is filled uwe-name-tutu zo With them all planted in rows ware ha miru And I look at them. maneku wobana ni The obana will invite hito ya tomaru to Someone to come by, I hope.
--
Ise's response explains why she sent the susuki -- to invite the handmaid to come visit her. The original poem suggested that the susuki was a symbol of thriving, but Ise calls on KKS 243:
- 秋の野の草のたもとか花薄ほにいでてまねく袖と見ゆらん
- Are the susuki the sleeves of the autumn field grass? The emerging stalks look like inviting sleeves.
Rather than a symbol of her thriving, they are meant as an invitation. If Ise and the handmaid were both in Onshi's court, she may want to meet an old friend.
290
題知らず
Topic unknown
よみ人も
Also the poet
秋の夜をいたづらにのみおきあかす露はわが身のうへにぞ有りける
aki no yo wo On the autumn nights itadura ni nomi It only for no reason oki-akasu Rests and waits for dawn tuyu ha waga mi no The dew is on my body uhe ni zo ari-keru Uselessly I spend the night.
- Rests
- oki is a play on the dew lying atop something, and the person being awake during the night.
--
The string of love exchanges comes to an end. The autumn night has appeared in a few poems before this, but it is used more often in the remainder of this volume. This seems to be another love poem, although it could be a miscellaneous poem about the impermanent world. If it is a love poem, it is someone (man or woman) lamenting that they cannot mean their lover, with the dew as tears.
In all of the non-Teika manuscripts, and the Kokin waka rokujo version of the poem, the last line is different: na ni koso ari-kere (the dew is the name of my body), which leans more towards the "impermanent world" meaning.
291
おほかたにおく白露も今よりは心してこそ見るべかりけれ
ohokata ni The dew which I view oku siratuyu mo As unrelated to me ima yori ha Starting from today kokoro site koso I should with the greatest care miru bekari-kere Look upon it and reflect
--
This is a somewhat unclear poem. Several manuscripts give this as a response to poem 290, but all modern commentators agree that there is a close relation between 290 and 291. If 290 is a love poem by a woman lamenting the lack of a visit by the man, this poem may be the man assuring her that he will pay more attention to her in the future (Kifune). If 290 is about the impermanence of the world, this could be another poem by the same person (or a response) suggesting that from now on, the person reflect on the impermanence of the dew and stop wasting time during the waking hours (Shinsho).
292
[Topic unknown]
右大臣
Minister of the Right [Fujiwara no Morosuke]
露ならぬわが身と思へど秋の夜をかくこそあかせおきゐながらに
tuyu nara-nu My body is not waga mi to omohe-do The quickly fading dew, but aki no yo wo The long autumn nights kaku koso akase I spend in this exact way oki-wi-naraga ni Awake, just as the dew lies.
- Awake
- As in previous poems, the pun on oki is with "lie [as dew]" and "waken".
--
The set of poems on dew continue. As with the previous one, this could be a miscellaneous poem on the impermanence of life. However, in the poetry collection of Morosuke, it says this was sent to a gentlewoman named Hyogo, and gives her response. The response playfully mocks Morosuke's affected pose of tears and pained wakefulness.
- 秋を浅みまだ深からぬ夜をさへやさのみは人のおきあかすらん
- It's still early in autumn and the night is still young; how can there be that much dew on you [/how can you have been awake for so long?]
293
秋のころほひ、ある所に女どものあまた簾の内に侍りけるに、男の歌のもとを言ひ入れて侍りければ、末は内より
In autumn, at a certain place there were several women behind a screen, and a man wrote the first part of a poem and passed it in; the women wrote the rest.
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
白露のおくにあまたの声すれば花の色々有りとしらなん
siratuyu no Where the white dew rests oku ni amata no I hear from within voices kowe sure-ba Many crying out hana no iroiro And so we wish you to know ari to sira-nan That there are many flowers.
- within
- Here, oku plays on "lie [as dew]" and "within [the screen]".
--
This seems to be a fictional poem tale. The first three lines (by the man) use the image of insects crying in a dew-laden field to suggest hearing the voices of women within the screen -- perhaps he is implying that they're interested in him. The last two lines on the surface mean that the insect cries suggest the many flowers they are drawn to. The other meaning is that beautiful women are within. Kifune thinks the last two lines mean "We're not chattering about you; we're beautiful and don't care that you've come."
Fujiwara no Toshiyori and several other ancient commentators note that this is the first appearance of a renga (linked verse) in an Imperial collection.
294
八月なかの十日ばかりに、雨のそぼふりける日、女郎花掘りに藤原師尹を野辺に出して、遅く帰りければつかはしける
On the 10th day of the 8th month, it was lightly raining, and he dispatched Fujiwara no Morotada to dig up patrinias, and Morotada was late returning so [Saneyori] sent this.
左大臣
The Minister of the Left [Fujiwara no Saneyori]
くれはてば月も待つべし女郎花雨やめてとは思はざらなん
kure-hate-ba If it becomes dark tuki mo matu besi We'll have to wait for the moon. wominahesi O patrinias, ame yame-te to ha I would not have you think that omoha-zara-nan We wait for the rain to stop.
- Fujiwara no Morotada
- This is the much younger half brother of Saneyori.
--
The translation above is a bit uncertain; this is a tricky poem to untangle. It's not entirely clear what the situation for the poem is; Morotada is being asked to dig up patrinias for some sort of court activity, but whether or not that activity involves the moon affects the reading of the poem. Some commentators think that the goal is to enjoy the patrinias under the moonlight, which can be a reading of the first two lines. But it may be also that he's simply saying "If you wait for the rain to stop, it will be so dark you'll have to wait for the moon to come out." Kifune's reading is that if he comes back too late, they'll no longer be able to enjoy the patrinias with the moonlight.
The second problem is the third line, which has an unclear grammatical relationship to the rest of the poem. Most commentators read this part as "I don't want you to think that you should wait until the rain stops to dig up the patrinias." But as Katagiri points out, this would be an unusual reading of the lines. He interprets the third line to be an address to the patrinias themselves, a form of personification that is common in Heian poetry. In that case this can be read as a playful comparison of the patrinias to women -- we wouldn't want them to think we're ignoring them, or that we can't get a little wet for them.
295
題知らず
Topic unknown
よみ人も
Also the author
秋の田のかりほのやどのにほふまでさける秋はぎ見れどあかぬかも
aki no ta no In the autumn field kariho no yado no My temporary lodging nihohu made Is made beautiful sake-ru akihagi By blooming autumn clover mire-do akanu ka mo I look but never grow tired.
- Temporary lodging
- This is a hut made in the field when the crops are getting ready for harvest, to prevent theft.
--
This is a simple poem which is a slight variant of MYS 10.2100. The imagery of the first lines recalls the much more famous poem 302. The poem is simple but still has the Heian-era elegance and appropriate topic that is typical of many of these anonymous poems in the KKS and GSS.
296
あきのよをまどろまずのみあかす身は夢路とだにぞたのまざりける
aki no yo wo Through the autumn nights madoroma-zu nomi Without even dozing off akasu mi ha I greet the sunrise yumedi to da ni zo And even the path of dreams tanoma-zari-keru I cannot trust for comfort.
- Path of dreams
- The idea is that if you go to sleep thinking of your lover, you will see them in your dreams. The term yumedi is found in 5 KKS love poems.
--
This sounds like a poem written by a woman. It is the opposite feeling of KKS 553 by Ono no Komachi:
- うたたねに恋しき人を見てしより夢てふ物は頼みそめてき
- Since I saw my lover after falling asleep, I have started to put my trust in those things called dreams.
297
萩の花を折りて人につかはすとて
They plucked off a bush clover and sent it to a person.
時雨ふりふりなば人に見せもあへずちりなばをしみをれる秋はぎ
sigure huri In falling showers huri-na-ba hito ni If it grows old I can't show mise mo ahe-zu This blossom to you, tiri-na-ba wosimi I'd regret its scattering, wore-ru akihagi The plucked autumn bush clover.
- falling showers
- Typically the sigure is a late autumn or early winter image, but there are examples in the MYS and KKS of its use in earlier autumn.
- falling...grow old
- The role of huri huri is disputed. It seems that the second huri is either "grow old" (of the poet) or simply "get past the flowering season of the clover." It should also suggest a doubling of huri for the rains.
--
If the huri-na-ba in the second line refers to a person aging, this is a poem sent by a woman to a man. It may be instructive to compare this with a poetry exchange between Tsurayuki and Prince Kanemi (KKS 397-398) as Tsurayuki delays his leaving because of strong rain.
- 秋萩の花をば雨にぬらせども君をばましてをしとこそおもへ
- The autumn bush clover is drenches in rain, but I regret much more our parting.
Response:
- をしむらん人の心を知らぬまに秋の時雨と身ぞふりにける
- While I did not realize that you thought of me that way, my body was aging in the falling autumn rains.
As well as MYS 10.2094:
- さを鹿の心相思ふ秋萩のしぐれの降るに散らくし惜しも
- The deer, whos heart is in accord with the autumn clover, regrets its fall in the autumn rains.
So the GSS poem is working off the type of imagery in the poems above. Although the prose preface certainly suggest a love poem, perhaps it is simply a seasonal poem on the clover.
298
秋の歌とてよめる
Read as an autumn poem
つらゆき
Tsurayuki
往き還り折りてかざさむあさなあさな鹿立ちならすのべの秋はぎ
yuki kaheri As we come and go ori-te kazasa-mu Let's adorn our caps with them asana asana Each and every day sika tati-narasu The deer tramp down the grass in nobe no akihagi The field where bush clover grow.
--
The image here seems to be of people passing this field on their way too and from somewhere. They see the beautiful clover blossoms and pick some to put in their caps, so that the deer aren't the only ones enjoying them. Deer are a major autumn symbol in most imperial collections but in the GSS they appear only twice.
The prose preface is typical of the KKS style public poem; it suggests an artificial context or an assigned topic. At times it also cautions the reader not to read hidden meanings (love or otherwise) into the poem.
Kigin praises the poem's style.
299
むねゆきの朝臣
Lord Muneyuki
わがやどの庭の秋はぎちりぬめりのちみむ人やくやしと思はむ
waga yado no The bush clover in niwa no akihagi The garden of my dwelling tiri-nu-meri Seem poised to scatter; noti mi-mu hito ya If you come after they fall kuyasi to omoha-mu I think you will regret it.
--
This is a simple poem with a direct meaning, following in the block of bush clover poems. Muneyuki is inviting people to come see the flowers before they're gone. Kifune calls this a "boasting" poem.
300
よみ人しらず
白露のおかまく惜しき秋萩を折りてはさらに我やかくさん
siratuyu no Laden with white dew okamaku wosiki I regret they'll soon scatter akihagi wo The fall bush clover wori-te ha sara ni Shall I go to break it off ware ya kaku-san And then hide it from the dew?
- hide
- In the MYS and many alternate manuscripts, this is karasan, resulting in "If I break it off, will I then be the one to wither it?" Kigin's Hachidaishusho and later Edo editions read kazasan (adorn my cap with it). Kifune actually emends the text to karasan, claiming the kakusan doesn't work.
--
This poem varies especially widely in manuscripts and various sources. A variant appears in MY 10.2099, as well as the Hitomaro collection and the Muneyuki collection (presumably a mistake based on poem 299 of the GSS). A number of texts replace the archaic OJ okamaku with oku da ni, with a newer construction.
I like the kara-san version the best -- the poet sees the bush clover about to bend and die under the weight of the dew, and wonders if he should break it off and thus be the one to cause its withering.
301
年の積りにけることを、かれこれ申しけるついでに
When various people were talking about growing old
つらゆき
[Ki no] Tsurayuki
秋はぎの色づく秋を徒にあまたかぞへて老いぞしにける
akihagi no The autumns in which iroduku aki wo Autumn bush clover color itadura ni I have uselessly amata kazohe-te Counted many of them pass oi zo si ni keru Meanwhile I have grown old
--
Both Kigin and Nakayama agree that the centerpoint of this poem is the 3rd line; the itadura ni (uselessly). Kigin explains this as all the years passing without any real memories of the beauty. Nakayama wonders whether this is a reference to the autumn promotions which Tsurayuki was not favored in, and Kudo points out that the 5th rank robes were scarlet colored (like the autumn leaves). Kifune's reading is that the cycle of nature is endless, but his life will end soon.
The version in the Tsurayuki collection is a love poem (presumably written in a woman's voice). The first line is hagi no ha no (the clover leaves) and the last line is sugusi-turu kana (I have passed them). In this form it was included in the Fuga wakashu.
The GSS version in the base text has the rather clumsy repetition of aki in the first and second lines, which is absent in the Tsurayuki collection version. Most other manuscripts, including other manuscripts of Teika's, read iroduku toki in the second line which avoids the repetition. My preference is for the hagi no ha no from the collection.
302
題知らず
Topic unknown
天智天皇御製
Honorable Composition of Emperor Tenji
秋の田のかりほのいほのとまをあらみわが衣手はつゆにぬれつつ
aki no ta no In an autumn field kariho no iho no The temporary lodging toma wo ara-mi Has holes in the roof, waga koromode ha So the sleeves of my clothing tuyu ni nure-tutu Are always drenched with the dew.
--
The poem itself is simple and clear, but it has garnered an enormous amount of commentary. This is no doubt due to both Shunzei and Teika favoring it -- the poem is best known for being the first poem in Teika's Hyakunin isshu, although Shunzei had already included it as a good poem in the Korai futeisho. The pseudo-Teika Waka jittei assigned it to the yugentai category, which indicates a poem that has a deeper meaning difficult to grasp, or that suggests overtones of some other emotion. Matsunaga Teitoku considered this poem to embody the true essence of waka poetry, and there is a legend that Teika gave this poem to Saigyo as an example of such a poem.
It seems likely that if the poem were not identified with Emperor Tenji, it would not have garnered as much attention as it did. Most of the early commentary on the poem deals with the hidden meaning behind the poem. Roughly there are three interpretations:
- Tenji saw the dilapidated huts of the farmers and composed this in sorrow and sympathy. Keichu read the dew (tears) as those of the farmer; with the Emperor composing in the farmer's voice. Others said the tears were the Emperor's.
- Tenji built a hut in mourning for his father, and this shows his extreme grief and filial piety.
- When Tenji passed a barrier, the guardsman forced Tenji to state his name. Tenji felt this showed the decline of imperial power and used the dilapidated hut as a metaphor.
The latter two interpretations are rejected by most later commentators; they are typical of 14th-16th century secret teachings which could be rather fanciful. Keichu remarked that Teika would not have placed this poem first in the Hyakunin isshu if it was associated with death or imperial decline.
Kamo no Mabuchi seems to have been the first scholar to say that this poem is not in fact by Emperor Tenji. He says that the poetic style is far too new to be associated with the 7th century Emperor, and that it closely resembles several MYS poems such as these:
- 秋田刈る仮庵をつくり我をれば衣手寒し露ぞ置ける
- I make a temporary hut when I cut the sheaves of the autumn field; When I am there my sleeves are wet with dew.
- 秋田刈るたびの庵にしぐれ降り我が袖濡れぬ干す人なしに
- In the temporary hut in the field where I cut the sheaves of the autumn field, the rain falls and drenches my sleeves, and there is no one to dry them.
Although these poems are too disparate to be regarded as variants, GSS 302 could be a variation on the theme, using these as honka. Modern scholars are unanimous that this poem is not by Emperor Tenji; that its style is early- to mid-Heian and cannot even be considered MYS era style, much less 7th century. Emperor Tenji's name became attached to the poem at some point, perhaps due to legends about his beneficence and compassion.
But even those who rejected Tenji's authorship still had high praise for the poem. Kagawa Kageki (Hyakuninshu iko) says "This is a moving poem, with a strong tone, which makes you understand the sorrow of many nights....the poem's portrayal of he life of a poor field guard is sad and moving." Kifune praised its poetic flow and reserved feeling, and thought that it advanced beyond the simplicity of the MYS style.
The only note of criticism seems to be from Emperor Juntoku's Yakumo misho, where the repetition of no at the end of the first two lines is cited as a fault.
Finally, the early acceptance of this poem's quality may be shown in a poem by Izumi Shikibu, which is clearly based on this one. (There is a pun on tsuyu meaning "dew" and also "a little bit")
- 秋の田のいほりにふける苫をあらみもりくる露のいやはねらるる
- The old thatch roof of the hut in the autumn field is ragged, and with the dew seeping in I finally sleep just a little.
303
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
わが袖に露ぞおくなる天河雲のしがらみ浪やこすらん
waga sode ni It seems there is dew tuyu zo oku naru Laid on the sleeves of my robes. amanogaha The dam made of clouds kumo no siragami In the heavenly river nami ya kosu-ran Did waves crash over the top?
--
Another dew poem; we can imagine the poet looking up at the sky and seeing the milky way partly obscured by clouds. This poem is similar to the anonymous KKS 863:
- わが上に露ぞおくなる天河門わたる舟の櫂のしづくか
- It seems there is dew laid on the sleeves of my robes. Is this drops from the oars of a boat crossing the heavenly river?
304
秋はぎの枝もとををになり行くは白露おもくおけばなりけり
akihagi no The fall bush clover's eda mo towowo ni Branches are bowing down low nari-yuku ha And getting lower, siratuyu omoku I see this is because of oke-ba nari-keri The heavy white dew on top.
--
This is another poem on bush clovers and dew; it's a fairly direct and pedestrian poem. The charm may come from the sound word towowo, evoking the weighing down of the branches with dew.
This poem is similar to KKS 223:
- をりて見ば落ちぞしぬべき秋はぎの枝もたわわにおける白露
- When I pluck it off and look, it's about to fall. The white dew laying on the branch makes it bend.
Some alternate manuscripts read tawawa instead of towowo, presumably by influence from this poem.
But the first two lines of this poem are the same as two MYS poems, 10.2170
- 秋萩の枝もとををに露霜置き寒くも時はなりにけるかも
- The fall bush clover's branches are bowing down low, because the dew has turned to frost in the cold.
And 8.1595
- 秋萩の枝もとををに置く露の消なば消ぬとも色に出でめやも
- The dew, bowing the branches of the fall bush clover down low, even if it disappears, many turn the leaves red[??].
These two poems seem more sophisticated, but it's hard to establish any order of composition for these four.
305
わがやどのお花がうへの白露をけたずて玉にぬく物にもが
waga yado no Out in the garden obana ga uhe no On top of the pampas grass siratuyu wo The white beads of dew: keta-zu-te tama ni Not vanishing, still as beads, nuku mono ni mo ga I wish that I could thread them.
--
Another dew poem, this one taking the same idea as English "beads" of dew. The poem is in the MYS, 8.1572, with Otomo no Yakamochi as the author.
Possibly KKS 222 is a development of this idea:
- はぎのつゆの玉にぬかむと取れば消ぬよし見む人は枝ながらみよ
- When I tried to take the branch of the clover off, the beads of dew vanished. Oh well, just look at the branch, then.
306
延喜御時歌めしければ
In the Engi period, [the Emperor] asked for a poem
つらゆき
Tsurayuki
さを鹿の立ちならすをのの秋はぎにおける白露我もけぬべし
sawosika no In the Ono field tati-narasu wono no Where male deer wear down the grass akihagi ni On fall bush clover oke-ru siratuyu The resting dew will vanish ware mo ke-nu-besi I, too, will soon disappear.
- will vanish
- This is not actually in the poem; the first four lines are a jo (preface) leading to the ke-nu (vanish) in the last line.
--
This is a love poem, of the type that was favored for inclusion in the KKS. Rather than a poem to a woman, it expresses in the abstract the feelings associated with love. In this case, the poet will soon die from love pains, just like the dew vanishes. The effectiveness of the poem lies in the building scene of the first four lines which then leads into the poet's cry of despair.
Several non-Teika texts, and the Kokin waka rokujo version of the poem, read tati-naku (standing and crying) in the second line. Male deer were often said to be crying for their mates, and this image was often used in love poetry as a symbol of the poet. The version in the Tsurayuki collection reads tuma no sigarami (entwined with their mates) in the second line. Both of these versions heighten the image -- the first by a more explicit comparison of the deer with the poet, and the second to contrast the mated deer with the lovelorn poet.
307
秋の野の草はいととも見えなくにおくしらつゆを玉とぬくらん
aki no no no In the autumn fields kusa ha ito to mo The grasses do not look mie-naku ni To be thread, and yet oku siratuyu wo The white dew lying on top tama to nuku-ran It appears to thread as beads.
--
This is a pedestrian poem on the same theme that has appeared before. It seems to have been used in the Kanpyo Empress' Poetry Competition; such elegant, technically faultless poems are more typical of these poetry competitions than more extemporaneous compositions.
308
文屋朝康
Fun'ya no Asayasu
白露に風の吹き敷く秋ののはつらぬきとめぬ玉ぞちりける
siratuyu ni On white beads of dew kaze no huki-siku The wind blows without stopping aki no no ha Over autumn fields turanuki-tomenu The grass has not threaded them, tama zo tiri-keru And they scatter like jewels.
--
306-309 seem to form a small block; first the dew will soon vanish, then it sits atop the grass like beads on a string, but then the grass did not actually thread it so the beads scatter in the wind. Kigin adds the dimension that perhaps in the previous poem it looked like they were threaded because a slight wind was not affecting them, but now the strong wind shows that wasn't the case. Hisamatsu Sen'ichi praised the realness of the poem that made it seem more like scenery than a conceptual poem. Both Kifune and Katigiri agree with this; Katagiri praising the excellent evocation of a single moment. Kifune also thought the poem evoked the sound of the jewels tinkling as they fall to the ground.
The poem was favored by Teika and included in his Kindai shuka, the Eiga no taigai, and the Hyakunin isshu.
309
ただみね
Tadamine
秋ののにおく白露をけさ見れば玉やしけるとおどろかれつつ
aki no no ni In the autumn field oku siratuyu wo This morning I see the dew kesa mire-ba Lying on the grass tama ya sike-ru to Like a carpet of jewels odoroka-re-tutu I see them with surprise.
--
This concludes the 4 poems in response to the imperial command; perhaps the GSS compilers used this to show that even artificial poems could be evocative and linked together into a story. The concluding chapter here shows that even though the dew scatters, it returns the next morning to sparkle in the sun. Although Tadamine himself did not intend this meaning, the "surprise" can suggest the return of the jewels that scattered and broke yesterday. The repetition tutu in the last line highlights the cyclic idea. Katagiri also thinks the surprise may suggest the rarity of the event, and perhaps a man returning home from a visit to a woman's house.
The text of this poem varies in manuscripts and other sources. The version in the Kokin waka rokujo and Tadamine collection reads hagi no siratuyu (white dew on the bush clover) in the second line. The poem also appears in the Yakamochi collection with the first two lines reading aki no yo no niha no siratuyu (the white dew of my garden on an autumn night). Non Teika-texts of the GSS read variously as either of these two versions.
310
題知らず
Topic unknown
よみ人も
Also the poet
おくからにちぐさの色になる物を白露とのみ人のいふらん
oku kara ni As soon as it lies tigusa no iro ni On the grasses it shows naru mono wo The many colors siratuyu to nomi Why, then, do people only hito no ihu ran Refer to it as "White" dew?
- Grasses
- tigusa plays on "many grasses" and "many types [of color]".
--
The collection continues with poems on dew. This is an intellectual poem suited to a public situation, similar to this poem composed at Prince Koresada's poetry competition (KKS 257):
- 白露の色はひとつをいかにして秋の木の葉をちぢに染むらん
- White dew has but one color, so how does it stain the leaves of the autumn trees with many hues?
The GSS poem is essentially the opposite of this. However, given that we still have not reached the poems on colored autumn leaves, it may be better to read GSS 310 as referring to the prism-like effect of light shining on the dew, rather than the poetic conceit of dew causing the leaves to change color.
311
白玉の秋のこのはにやどれると見ゆるはつゆのはかるなりけり
siratama no We see white jewels aki no ko no ha ni Making their lodging on leaves yadore-ru to Of the autumn field; miyuru ha tuyu no This view is simply a trick hakaru nari-keri That dew is playing on us.
--
Like 310, this is a public-style poem on the confusion between dew and jewels. It is somewhat different from the previous ones in that here the dew is actively deceiving us rather than simply our mistake. It is similar to KKS 165 by Henjo:
- はちす葉のにごりに染まぬ心もてなにかはつゆを玉とあざむく
- The lotus leaves' hearts are not stained by the mud they grow in, so why do they fool us by making dew seem like gems?
Although in the GSS poem it is the dew itself, not the plant, that is tricking us.
312
秋ののにおく白露のきえざらば玉にぬきてもかけて見てまし
aki no no ni In the autumn field oku siratuyu no If the white dew on the grass kie-zara-ba Did not disappear tama ni nuki-te mo I would thread them as jewels kake-te mi-te-masi Adorn myself, and view them.
--
The poems draw more and more into a fantasy world, from the intellectual 310, to the personified dew in 311, and now to the poet wanting to treat the dew as jewels to adorn one's body. (See KKS 222, given above, for a similar idea.)
313
唐衣袖くづるまでおくつゆはわが身を秋ののとや見るらん
karakoromo My robes from China, sode kuduru made The sleeves are rotting with the oku tuyu ha Amount of dew on them: waga mi wo aki no My body must look the same no to ya miru-ran As the wet fields of autumn.
- robes from China
- karakoromo is simply a pillow word for sode (sleeves).
--
This poem builds off 312's idea of adorning oneself with the dew, but in this case the dew is tears. Probably this is supposed to be a poem written by a woman who has been abandoned by a man.
314
おほぞらにわが袖ひとつあらなくにかなしくつゆやわきておくらん
ohozora ni In the whole wide sky waga sode hitotu The sleeves of my robes are not ara-naku ni The only ones there -- kanasiku tuyu ya Why does this sorrowful dew waki-te oku-ran Choose me alone to lie on?
- whole wide sky
- The first line is somewhat unclear; Nakayama interpreted as "in the world" while Katagiri said "from the skies' viewpoint." The belief was that dew came from the sky.
- tuyu ya
- Kifune emends to tuyu no, which is the reading of many alternate manuscripts and one early Teika manuscript, but he gives no reasoning. This version would be "The dew seems..." rather than "Why does..."
--
This is another poem on dew with a fantasy theme, and the familiar association of dew with tears.
Teika recorded in his manuscript that the "Kiyosuke manuscript" reads hitu to in the second line ("sopping wet"), but that his "family manuscript" (possibly one associated with Shunzei) read hitotu. Several surviving non-Teika texts, and some of the pre-Teika commentaries, include this reading.
315
あさごとにおくつゆそでにうけためて世のうき時の涙にぞかる
asagoto ni The dew that appears oku tuyu sode ni Every morning on my sleeves uke-tame-te I will take and save, yo no uki toki no And when we are not happy namida ni zo karu I will borrow it as tears.
- when we are not happy
- This translation takes yo to refer to a love affair, as it often does in poetry.
--
This is a less fantastic poem than the previous, but it still has a note of humor and inventiveness that verges on Haikai territory. Rather than the usual use of dew as a metaphor for tears, this person literally wants to use the dew as tears.
This could possibly be based on Ariwara no Yukihira's KKS 922:
- こき散らす滝の白玉ひろひをきて世のうき時の涙にぞかる
- I will pick up the while jewels from the cascading falls, and borrow them as tears when I am suffering.
Here the yo no uki probably refers to actual life difficulties; perhaps the poet of GSS 315 took this and changed it into a love meaning. Although since the poem is anonymous we can't be certain which one came first.
316
秋の歌とてよめる
Read as an autumn poem
つらゆき
Tsurayuki
秋の野の草もわけぬをわが袖の物思ふなへにつゆけかるらん
aki no no no I did not wade through kusa mo wake-nu wo The grass of the autumn fields waga sode no However, my sleeves mono omohu nahe ni Just as I think in worry tuyu-kekaru-ran Seem to be drenched with the dew.
--
The preface is a common one in the KKS, and is perhaps meant to indicate that we should read this poem only for its autumn themes, and not try to read any additional meaning into it. However, several non-Teika manuscripts lack the preface, and in some versions of the Tsurayuki Collection this appears in the love volume. As a love poem, the first two lines evoke a man returning from a woman's house at dawn after a romantic night, and the "worry" is over a lover. In other words, he has not managed to see his love yet, but he still cries tears of worry. If we do not read this as a love poem it is simply an expression of general worry associated with autumn.
A very similar poem is in the third love volume of the SIS, the anonymous 832:
- 秋の野の草葉も分けぬわが袖の露けくのみもなりまさるかな
- The sleeves of my robe, which has not waded through the grass of the autumn fields, is becoming more and more drenched with dew.
317
ふかやぶ
Fukayabu
いく世へてのちかわすれんちりぬべきのべの秋はぎみがく月よを
ikuyo he-te Though ages may pass noti ka wasure-n I shall never forget it: tiri-nu-beki About to scatter nobe no akihagi The bush clover in the field migaku tukuyo wo And the polishing moonlight.
- Moonlight
- The word tukuyo can mean a moonlit night, but it can also refer to the moon itself, or to the moonlight.
--
Although this poem does not mention dew, it is assumed. The image is of the moonlight reflecting on the dew, represented as "polishing" the jeweled beads. A number of non-Teika manuscripts, Shunzei's Korai futeisho, and the poem in the Kokin waka rokujo have alternate readings that remove the "polish" image and just say the light is shining on the flowers. However, the idea of the moonlight polishing beads of dew is found in the Shinsen manyo'shu, and SIS 241 (also found in the Shinsen manyo'shu) has the moonlight polishing frozen ice on a lake.
318
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
秋の夜の月の影こそこのまよりおちば衣と身にうつりけれ
aki no yo no On an autumn night tuki no kage koso It is the light of the moon ko no ma yori That shines through the trees oti-ba koromo to Reflecting on my body mi ni uturi-kere A robe made of fallen leaves.
--
The next set of poems is on the autumn moon. Many of them seem to build off the image of the anonymous KKS 184:
- 木の間よりもりくる月の影みれば心づくしの秋はきにけり
- When I see the light of the moon shining through the gaps in the trees, I feel that the autumn has come that will fill my heart with sadness.
The phrase "robe of fallen leaves" is not found in any other source, so the interpretation varies. The majority opinion seems to be that the moonlight is casting shadows of leaves onto the person's clothing, making it seem like he has created a robe out of leaves. This may connect with forest hermits. Various alternate manuscripts, as well as the Shinsen man'yoshu version, have alternate readings that remove the "clothing of leaves" image. Only Katagiri links the poem closer to KKS 184 and wonders if the oti (fall) is meant to refer also the poet's body.
The Kansho praises the clear beauty that is suited to an anonymous poem, and Kifune praises the skill of the unusual metaphor.
319
袖にうつる月のひかりは秋ごとに今夜かはらぬ影とみえつつ
sode ni uturu The light of the moon tuki no hikari ha That reflects on my robe's sleeves aki-goto ni In every autumn koyohi kahara-nu On this night, wholly unchanged, kage to mie-tutu I continue to see it.
--
Kigin declares that this is about the 15th night of the 8th month, the full moon that is often used in poetry. Other commenters are more tentative, but it would give a purpose to the koyohi (this night). This may be a poem simply in praise of this night. Nakayama interprets this as "The moonlight doesn't change, but I'm growing old" -- I assume he is influenced by the famous KKS poem of Narihira where the natural world has not changed but his body has. Katagiri brings in another common trope of the moon reflected off tears in the sleeves of the robe, although other than the word kage there's nothing to suggest tears here.
320
秋の夜の月にかさなるくもはれてひかりさやかに見るよしもがな
aki no yo no If only the clouds tuki ni kasanaru Piled up on the moon kumo hare-te On this autumn night hikari sayaka ni Would clear up, then I could see miru yosi mo gana The clear moonlight shining forth!
--
This poem has been interpreted in three ways. First, as a simple poem on a cloudy night (Kigin). Second, referring to someone who has been insulted or lied to (Keichu). Third, a love poem, with the moon representing a lover, and the clouds representing whatever is keeping them apart (Kifune, Katagiri).
321
小野美材
Ono no Yoshiki
秋の池の月のうへにこぐ船なれば桂の枝にさをやさはらん
aki no ike no On an autumn pond tuki no uhe ni kogu The boat is rowing atop hune nare-ba The moon's reflection katura no eda ni Is it the katusura tree sawo ya sahara-n That is tangling the oars?
--
For the katsura tree on the moon, see Poem 18. Tosa Nikki has a very similar poem:
- 水底の月の上よりこぐ船の竿にさはるは桂なるべし
- What is tangling the oars of the boat rowing atop the moon on the water must be the katsura tree.
Yoshiki died in 902 so Tsurayuki's poem may be based on this one, or they may have a common source in a Chinese poem.
322
ふかやぶ
Fukayabu
あきの海にうつれる月を立ちかへり浪はあらへど色もかはらず
aki no umi ni On the autumn sea uture-ru tuki wo The reflection of the moon: tati-kaheri Coming and going nami ha arahe-do Waves wash it over and over iro mo kahara-zu But the color doesn't change.
--
The image of the poem is clear, and we have moved from the moon on a pond to the moon on the ocean. Kifune points out that the skill of the construction comes through all the engo (associated words) with "color": utureru (which can mean "reflect" or "fade"), "wash", and "change".
323
是貞の親王の家の歌合せに
At Prince Koresada's poetry contest
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
秋の夜の月の光はきよけれど人の心のくまはてらさず
aki no yo no On an autumn night tuki no hikari ha The light of the moon shines forth kiyokere-do Brightly and clearly, hito no kokoro no But the recesses of the heart kuma ha terasa-zu It does not illuminate.
--
This can be read with various meanings. The moon does not illuminate the evil in people's hearts. Or, the moon cannot see the hidden feelings (sadness or love) in my own heart. Or, the moon cannot see the deception in my lover's heart.
324
あきの月常にかくてるものならばやみにふる身はまじらざらまし
aki no tuki If the autumn moon tune ni kaku teru At all times, just in this way mono nara-ba Shed its light brightly, yami ni huru mi ha Then ones who dwell in darkness mazira-zara-masi Would not exist with others.
--
Like 323 this poem is somewhat mysterious, and seems to have a close link to the previous poem, both thematically and in that they were both composed at the same competition. Most commentators take this as the poet lamenting his lack of success in the world. Kigin says that the light here is the beneficence of the Emperor, but this would be a sharply critical poem in that way. Nakayama notes that in the Kokin waka rokujo both this poem and the previous one are attributed to Fukayabu. He wonders if the GSS compilers suppressed the name because of the sharp criticism, but poems by Tsurayuki and Mitsune lamenting their lack of political success are included in the GSS with attribution.
Another way to read this poem would be with a religious meaning like the previous one -- the word maziru applied to people usually means to participate in society, especially elite society. So if the moon always shone very brightly, then we wouldn't have evil people mixing in with us.
325
八月十五夜
On the fifteenth night of the eighth month
藤原雅正
Fujiwara no Tadamasa
いとつても月見ぬ秋はなきものをわきて今夜のめづらしきかな
itu to te mo It never happens tuki mi-nu aki ha That there is an autumn where naki mono wo We don't see the moon, waki-te koyohi no Yet this night especially medurasiki kana The moon is so beautiful!
--
In contrast to the previous poems, this is a straightward poem in praise of the 15th night moon.
The language may recall KKS 546:
- いつとても恋しからずはあらねども秋の夕べはあやしかりけり
- It never happens that I do not long for you, and yet on an autumn night my longing for you is unusual.
326
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
月影はおなじひかりの秋の夜をわきて見ゆるは心なりけり
tukikage ha The light of the moon onazi hikari no Is the same light on this night aki no yo wo As other fall nights, wakite miyu-ru ha What makes us see it as special kokoro nari-keri Is what is in our hearts.
- aki no yo wo
- Modern scholars all take this wo to mean "but", but as I've mentioned before, this use is found with predicates, not bare nouns. Miyuru is generally an intransitive verb that would normally not take wo, but perhaps this is actually linking to waki-te instead.
--
This is a poem combining logic and feeling about the 15th night moon. The word wakite has appeared several times in this block of moon poems.
327
月を見て
Looking at the moon
紀淑光朝臣
Lord Ki no Yoshimitsu
そらとほみ秋やよくらん久方の月の桂の色もかはらぬ
sora tohomi The sky is too far aki ya yoku-ran Perhaps that is the reason hisakata no Autumn avoids it tuki no katura no On the moon, the katsura iro mo kahara-nu Does not change color at all.
--
This is another "logical explanation" poem with a hint of comic poetry. The katsura on the moon has been mentioned before; here the reason it (and thus the moonlight) doesn't change color is that the moon is too far away for autumn to reach.
This poem may have been inspired by KKS 194:
- 久方の月の桂も秋は猶もみぢすればや照りまさるらむ
- If even the katsura tree on the moon shed its autumn leaves, then perhaps the light would shine even brighter.
328
つらゆき
Tsurayuki
衣手はさむくもあらねど月影をたまらぬ秋の雪とこそ見れ
koromode ha It's not the case that samuku mo ara-ne-do The sleeves of my robe are cold, tukikage wo But the light of the moon tamara-nu aki no Though not piling up there yuki to koso mire Looks just like snow of autumn.
--
Autumn snow is an unusual image; the Gukansho criticizes its use in this poem as being out of season (frost would be more typical). Tsurayuki uses it in another poem in the Tsurayuki collection. This poem also recalls SIS 64, also by Tsurayuki:
- 桜散る木の下風は寒からで空に知られぬ雪ぞ降りける
- The wind under the cherry tree where petals scatter is not cold, and snow the sky does not know is falling.
329
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
あまの河しがらみかけてとどめなんあかずながるる月やよどむと
ama no gaha River of heaven, sigarami kake-te I wish that you would construct todome-nan A dam to block it; aka-zu nagaruru Swifly flowing, unceasing, tuki ya yodomu to Halt the moon's eastern journey.
--
A similar poem is in the Shinsen man'yoshu:
- あまのがは秋の夜ばかりよどまなん流るる月の影をとむべく
- I wish on autumn nights the heavenly river would stop flowing; that would stop the moonlight from drifting away.
330
秋風に浪やたつらん天河わたるせもなく月のながるる
akikaze ni In the autumn wind nami ya tatu-ran Are waves rising up in the ama no gaha Heavenly river? wataru se mo naku Without even shallows to cross tuki no nagaruru The moon flows on and on.
--
This poem is a companion to the previous one. The use of wataru se may recall the Tanabata poems -- unlike Hikoboshi, the moon cannot even find a shallow to cross over. But it also provides a closer link to the previous poem -- of course there's no dam to stop the moon, but there isn't even a shallow area that someone might cross over to slow it up a little.
331
あきくれば思ふ心ぞみだれつつまづもみぢばとちりまさりける
aki kure-ba When the autumn comes omohu kokoro zo It is my worrying heart midare-tutu That turns chaotic, madu momidiba to And before the autumn leaves tiri-masari-keru It scatters in disarray.
--
The next few poems have nothing to do with the moon, so we would expect a "Topic unknown" here. Despite this, only one Teika manuscript reads this way, plus one non-Teika manuscript that carries it over from poem 329. Kifune emends the text to add it.
The poem is a love poem, playing on the familiar aki pun where a man has neglected her. The interpretation of the poem as "before [timewise] the autumn leaves" is not ironclad, but it would fit with the placement of the poem in the GSS -- actual falling leaf poems do not appear until the third autumn volume.
332
ふかやぶ
Fukayabu
きえかへり物思ふ秋の衣こそ涙の河の紅葉になりけれ
kie-kaheri About to vanish mono omohu aki no Abandoned, my worried heart, koromo koso It is my clothing namida no kaha no On a flowing river of tears momidi nari-kere That is the autumn leaves.
--
Like 331, this is a love poem using the image of the autumn leaves. Read in the voice of a woman, it uses the familiar aki pun along with the idea of crying bloody tears of sadness.
Non-Teika texts, as well as the Fukayabu collection, read aki no kokoro instead. This would have the poet's heart stained with the tears rather than the clothing.
333
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
吹く風に深きたのみのむなしくは秋の心をあさしとおもはむ
huku kaze ni In the blowing wind hukaki ta no mi no The crops I deeply trusted munasiku ha Have come to nothing aki no kokoro wo I must think that autumn's heart asasi to omoha-mu Is shallow, just as yours is.
--
My translation tries to incorporate both the surface and love meanings of the poem. It can actually be read as two different complete poems -- one entirely on the autumn field withered by the strong autumn winds, and another as a love poem: "I trusted your heart, but it's come to nothing, and I must think of your shallow heart that has given up on me." This dual meaning is created by the pun of tanomi as either "fruit of the field" or "my trust [in you]", and the usual pun on aki.
This poem is perhaps based on KKS 822 by Komachi:
- 秋風にあふたのみこそ悲しけれわが身むなしくなりぬとおもへば
- I sorrow over the field fruits/promises that have met the autumn wind; their/my hearts have come to nothing.
334
秋の夜は人をしつめてつれづれとかきなすことのねにぞなきぬる
aki no yo ha On an autumn night hito wo sidume-te I wait for people to sleep turedure to With time on my hands kakinasu koto no Strum a tune on my koto ne ni zo naki-nuru And the sound has made me weep.
- sound
- ne is a pivot for koto no ne (sound of the koto) and ne ni naku (cry out).
--
The image here is of a woman waiting for a man who fails to show up. Her gentlewomen all go to sleep, and she sits playing on her koto and crying. Some commenters seem to take the koto part only as a pillow word for ne, or say that this is not a specific scene but simply a person playing the koto at night to soothe their love problems.
This poem is found in texts of "Prince Koresada's Poetry Competition," and the Edo-period editions all include that as a prose preface.
Kifune reads 331-334 as a love sequence.
335
つゆをよめる
Read about dew
藤原清正
Fujiwara no Kiyotada
ぬきとむる秋しなければ白露のちぐさにおける玉もかひなし
nuki-tomuru There is no autumn aki si nakere-ba That will string them on a thread siratuyu no The beads of white dew tigusa ni oke-ru Lying on all kinds of plants tama mo kahi nasi Jewels that are made useless.
--
This is an artificial poem on a topic. Kifune notes the interest of the poem in the personification of autumn.
336
八月十五夜
On the 15th night of the 8th month
秋風にいとどふけゆく月影をたちなかくしそあまの河ぎり
akikaze ni In the autumn wind itodo huke-yuku It rises up more and more tukikage wo The light of the moon tati-na-kakusi-so Do not rise up and hide it ama no kawagiri O mist from heaven's river!
--
This poem seems to belong more with the earliers set of poems on the 8/15 moon; perhaps it was placed here to have both of Kiyotada's poems in one place. Kifune notes the skillful invocation of the scene as well as the combination of multiple images of middle autumn: wind, moon, mist, and the Milky Way.
337
延喜御時秋の歌めしければたてまつりける
In the Engi Period, the Emperor requested an autumn poem, and [he] delivered this.
貫之
Tsurayuki
をみなへしにほへる秋のむさしのは常よりも猶むつましきかな
wominahesi Musashino field nihohe-ru aki no In autumn, with the scent of musasino ha Patrinia blooms tune yori mo naho More so than at other times mutumasiki kana Longing for it consumes me!
--
The final set of 14 poems in this volume are all on the patrinia flowers (wominaesi). Many of them involve the same plays as previous poems, on the similarity of the name of the flower to the word for "woman".
This poem draws on the imagery and language of several previous poems.
KKS 867:
- 紫のひともとゆゑに武蔵野の草はみながらあはれとぞ見る
- Because of one murasaki plant, I loke at all the grasses of Musashi field with love.
Kokin waka rokujo:
- 武蔵野の草のゆかりと聞くからに同じ野辺ともむつましきかな
- As soon as I hear they are akin to the grass of Musashi, I feel longing for the entire field.
KKS 228:
- 秋の野に宿りはすべし女郎花名をむつましみ旅ならなくに
- I should take lodging in the field, because I feel longing for the patrinia; though I am not going on a journey.
Tsurayuki takes this image of the alluring murasaki on Musashi field and notes that when the patrinia is there, it's even more alluring than usual.
338
人につかはしける
Sent to a person
兼覧王
Prince Kanemi
秋霧のはるるはうれしをみなへし立ちよる人やあらんと思へば
akikiri no They are happy that haruru ha uresi The autumm mist has lifted. wominahesi The patrinias tati-yoru hito ya Thinking that there might just be ara-n to omohe-ba Someone to come visit them.
--
This poem initially looks like a witty, public-style poem personifying the patrinia flowers and using the normal association with women. But the prose preface indicates this is a private poem. Usually "person" indicates a lover. If this is the case here, it would seem to mean that the woman should be happy that Kanemi is now going to visit now that some hindrance is gone. Nakayama thinks that maybe this is a palace gentlewoman who is now at home and away from prying eyes, or that this woman has been moved closer to Kanemi's own quarters.
Kifune takes this rather as an invitation to a friend to come see the patrinias in his garden. Kudo says that the poet is playfully casting himself as a woman waiting for a visit.
339
題知らず
Topic unknown
よみ人も
Also the poet
をみなへし草むらごとにむれたつは誰松虫の声に迷ふぞ
wominahesi The patrinias kusamura goto ni In every patch of grass mure-tatu ha Gather around in groups tare matumusi no Because they're tricked by the sound kowe ni madohu zo Of pine crickets' waiting cries.
--
The image here is the patrinia flowers, personified as women, gathering around in a group because they hear a man's (cricket's) voice and each think that she's the one the man is waiting for. It seems to continue from the previous poem; they were happy the mist lifted so they could be visited, and now they eagerly gather to await the men.
Some non-Teika texts lack the prose preface, meaning this is also "Sent to a person." In this case it could be sent to a woman, criticizing her for entertaining multiple men.
340
女郎花ひる見てましを秋の夜の月の光は雲かくれつつ
wominahesi The patrinias, hiru mi-te-masi wo I should have viewed them in day aki no yo no On these autumn nights tuki no hikari ha The light of the moon above kumo kakure-tutu Keeps getting hidden by clouds.
--
On a surface level, the poet is regetting that he didn't pay more attention to the patrinias during the day, since the clouds are hiding the moonlight. Modern commenters think there is a hidden love meaning, but the exact connotation is hard to pin down. Kifune imagines a man visiting a woman at night, being rebuffed, and then composing this as a joking response. Kudo agrees. But since lovers do not meet during the day, this is not the clearest interpretation. Katagiri's reading is that this man is trying to catch a glimpse of the woman at night, but she's hidden from his gaze. He (perhaps jokingly) wishes he had come during the day. Both readings are somewhat strained, and it may be that this should be read as a simple autumn poem.
341
をみなへし花のさかりにあき風のふくゆふぐれも誰にかたらん
wominahesi The patrinias hana no sakari ni In the fullness of their bloom akikaze no An evening on which huku yuhugure wo The autumn wind blows coldly tare ni katara-n Whom shall I tell about this?
--
The surface meaning is that the patrinias will soon be withered by the wind, and the poet has no one to tell about the beautiful but sad scene. Poem 103 has a similar meaning. There may be a love meaning as well -- the poet is in the prime of her beauty, but a man has grown tired (aki) of her.
342
つらゆき
Tsurayuki
白妙の衣かたしき女郎花さけるのべにぞこよひねにける
sirotahe no Alone I have spread koromo katasiki My white clothing on the ground wominahesi In the field where grow sake-ru nobe ni zo The patrinias, it is here koyohi ne-ni-keru That I will sleep this night.
--
The imagery in this poem is typically used by a person who has been spurned by their lover or is otherwise lonely. The image may be simply that the beguiling flowers, with their "woman" name, have him sleeping alone here when there are just flowers. It could also be read by a man who has been spurned by a woman, but it's not clear where he would be sleeping in that case.
KKS 238, read on an imperial outing to view flowers, has a similar feeling, although the situation is comic:
- 花にあかでなに帰るらむをみなへしおほかる野辺に寝なましものを
- I am not tired of the flowers; why should I return? I would rather spend the night here, in the field with many patrinias.
This is somewhat the opposite of KKS 229, where the poet is reluctant to sleep in the field for fear of getting a bad name:
- をみなへし多かるのべにやどりせばあやなくあだの名をやたちなむ
- If I lodge for the night in the field with many patrinias, I will get an undeserved bad name.
343
名にしおへばしひてたのまむ女郎花はなの心の秋はうくとも
na ni si ohe-ba Since your bear your name sihite tanoma-mu I'll jump in and trust in you wominahesi O Patrinias, hana no kokoro no Though the heart of you flowers aki ha uku tomo Grows hateful in the autumn.
--
Because the patrinias have the "woman" name, the poet will fall in love with them even though he knows they will scatter soon. The "heart" is a personification of the flowers as a lover. Perhaps we can see this as a followup to 342 -- he came here to sleep alone but now he'll join the flowers even though he knows he'll be betrayed.
Neither 342 nor 343 are in existing manuscripts of the Tsurayuki Collection. 343 is in the Shinsen Man'yoshu, and from there it was included as an anonymous poem in the Shinchoku senshu.
344
みつね
Mitsune
織女ににたるものかな女郎花秋よりほかにあふ時もなし
tanabata ni It is similar ni-taru mono kana To Tanabata, I see! wominahesi The patrinia aki yori hoka ni Aside from in the autumn ahu toki mo nasi There is no time we can meet.
--
The same idea occurs in Sadakata's KKS 231:
- 秋ならで逢ふことかたきをみなへし天の河原に生ひぬものゆゑ
- If it isn't autumn we can't meet the patrinia, though it doesn't grow on the banks of the Heavenly River.
Kifune, continuing his interpretation of this sequence as love poems, reads this as a woman who can only meet the man's neglect (aki).
345
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
秋の野によるもやねなんをみなへし花の名をのみ思ひかけつつ
aki no no ni In the autumn field yoru mo ya ne-na-n Perhaps I'll stay the night too! wominaesi The patrinias hana no na wo nomi Again and again I think omohi-kake-tutu Of only the name it bears.
--
Another poem playing on the name of the flower. See KKS 228 (translated in the comment for poem 337 above) as well as SIS 161:
- ひぐらしに見れども飽かぬ女郎花野辺にや宵旅寝しなまし
- I see the patrinias until sunset but it's still not enough. Perhaps I will make camp here for the night.
346
をみなへし色にもあるかな松虫をもとにやどして誰をまつらん
wominaesi The patrinias iro ni mo aru kana Are quite coquettish, I see! matumusi wo They lodge at their base moto ni yadosi-te The pine crickets, but I wonder, tare wo matu-ran Who might they be waiting for?
--
This is a more comic, haikai style poem. The flowers are cast as flirtatious women who allow the pine crickets to sleep near them, but the crickets wait in vain to actually join them. This can be seen as the opposite of 339 above. An alternate reading found only in the Edo period woodblock editions reads tomo ni (together with me) in the 4th line, which would create a stronger link between 345 and 346.
Kifune offers a reading of 339-346 as a series of love exchanges.
347
前栽にをみなへし侍りける所にて
At a place where the garden plants included patrinias
女郎花にほふさかりを見る時ぞわがおいらくはくやしかりける
wominahesi The patrinias nihohu sakari wo Profusely blooming beauty miru toki zo It's when I see it waga oiraku ha That I very much lament kuyasikari-keru My unfortunate old age.
--
This is another poem that tends towards the haikai side of things -- once again playing on the "woman" sound of the flowers, the old man thinks that he could frolic with them if only he were younger. Nakayama noted the contrast between sakari (bloom) and oiraku (aged).
348
相撲（すまひ）の還饗（かへりあるじ）の暮れつ方、女郎花折りて、敦慶親王の飾しにさすとて
In the evening of the Sumo return banquet, he broke off a patrinia, and gave it to Prince Atsuyoshi to adorn his cap.
三条右大臣
Sanjo Minister of the Left [Sadakata]
をみなへし花のなならぬ物ならば何かは君がかざしにもせん
wominahesi The patrinia hana no na nara-nu If it were not a flower mono nara-ba With this name attached, nani ka ha kimi ga For what purpose would I now kazasi ni mo se-n Give it to you for your cap?
年頃、家の娘に消息通はし侍りけるを、「女のために軽々し」などいひて、許さぬ間になん侍りける。
Through the years, Atsuyoshi had exchanges letters with the Minister's daughter, but he said things like "It would be frivolous for her sake," and he would not permit their relationship; this is during that period.
- Sumo return banquet
- Sumo wrestlers from each province came to compete in the capital, and there would be a feast for the victors afterwards. Apparently there were patrinias there. See the Shinsho and Hachidaishusho for a detailed description of the festival as well as sources for the practice.
- Frivolous
- Atsuyoshi apparently had the reputation as having casual relationships with many women.
- Minister's daughter
- Identity unknown.
--
Despite the detailed prose preface and afterword, this poem has two entirely different interpretations. The one given by Kigin, Nakayama, and Kifune is that Sadakata is now allowing the marriage -- "I wouldn't give you this flower if it didn't have the name 'woman'; that is, I'm giving you my daughter." Kudo and Katagiri have the opposite interpretation -- "If this didn't have the name of 'flower' but were an actual woman, there's no way I would give it to you -- you can't marry my daughter." In this case the last two lines are interpreted as a hango construction (that asks a question but implies "no" as the answer). Nakayama also cites an alternate theory from a scholar named Kamemaro; he doesn't actually give the theory but presumably it is this reading.
It's difficult to make a judgment between the readings. The use of hana no na and the use of "during that period" in the sidenote incline me towards the "No" interpretation, but that seems like a rather harsh poem, particularly one addressed to a prince. Since we can't determine who this woman was or when this event happened, there's no historical information to confirm or deny either reading.
349
法皇、伊勢が家の女郎花を召しければ、奉るを聞きて
He heard that Emperor Uda requested patrinias from Ise's house, and she sent them.
枇杷右大臣
Biwa Minister of the Right [Fujiwara no Nakahira]
女郎花折りけん袖のふしごとにすぎにし君を思ひいでやせし
wominahesi In the folds of sleeves wori-ken sode no That you picked patrinias husi goto ni Each time you picked them, sugi-ni-si kimi wo Did you remember the one omohi-ide ya se-si Who has now passed on before?
- sleeves
- The expression sode no husi is unclear, and both Kifune and Katagiri emend to eda no husi. This is the reading in some manuscripts, as well as the Kokin waka rokujo and Ise collection. Kudo does not emend the text but his translation of the poem uses "flowers" rather than "sleeves". The branch version creates a play on husi (joints of the branch / instances of time). Sode occurs in enough manuscripts that it's hard to regard it as a simple error, and perhaps it means something like the folds or threads of the sleeves.
- The one
- In the Ise Collection this is aki (autumn) instead.
--
This is a difficult poem to interpret, not least because of the textual difficulties mentioned above. The poem also requires some backstory to understand. Nakahira and Ise were once lovers, but Nakahira was forced into a marriage, and Ise went into Emperor Uda's service and bore him a son. So further relationship between Nakahira and Ise was impossible. The Ise Collection tells us that this poem was written after Uda's death, in which case the fourth line would refer to the deceased Uda. Nakayama didn't think this situation worked with the prose preface as given in the GSS.
The poem is easiest to understand with the Ise Collection version, where Nakahira asks if plucking the flowers made her remember the autumns they spent together (with a play on aki - the times you were cold to me). The poem as given in the base text for the GSS perhaps means "When you picked the patrinias, did your wet sleeves make you remember the times you spent with Uda?" We would then have to read this as a rather bitter or ironic poem -- inappropriate if Uda is dead, perhaps more appropriate if her service has simply ended and she is now living in her own house, but Uda is still keeping up communication with her.
350
返し
Response
伊勢
Ise
をみなへしをりもをらずもいにしへをさらにかくべき物ならなくに
wominahesi The patrinias wori mo wora-zu mo Whether I break them or not inisihe wo What has now passed on sara ni kaku beki There is nothing there for me mono nara-naku ni To remember or speak of.
--
Ise's response can be read as a deflection; her difficult position as a former lover of Nakahira and Uda makes it impossible for her to say anything specific, especially because of the ranks of the people involved. Katagiri offers the idea that the orange tree (tatibana) is the usual flower that causes reminiscing, and the patrinia would not call up any such memories.
Variant Text Poems
V8
This poem occurs between 321 and 322 in the Unshu-bon manuscript.
花山に遍照僧正のもとにまかりける夜
On a night when he visited Bishop Henjo at Hanayama.
巨勢かなをか
Kose no Kanaoka
秋のいけは月のかがみのはこなれやむべもにしきにもみぢしにけり
aki no ike ha The pond of autumn tuki no kagami no Does it act as a box for hako nare ya The mirror of the moon? mube mo nisiki ni That must be why, as brocade, momidi si-ni-keri The autumn leaves scatter down.
--
The image here is of the reflection of the moon being covered by fallen autumn leaves on the surface of the pond, thus acting as a fabric covering for the box in which the moon keeps its mirror. The image is lovely but it is out of place in this volume; the actual falling leaf poems do not occur until volume 7.