Gosenshu 8

後撰和歌集　巻第八　冬

443

題しらず

Circumstance unknown

よみ人も

Also the poet

はつ時雨ふれば山べぞおもほゆるいづれの方のまづもみづらん

hatu sigure                  The first late year rain
hure-ba yamabe zo            When it falls I come to think
omohoyuru                    Of the mountain ridge.
idure no kata no             From which place does it begin
madu momidu-ran              The first leaves changing color.

--

The winter volume opens with two poems that cause several problems. The first one is that both 443 and 444 seem more appropriate to the Autumn volume than the Winter. The second is that this poem has already appeared in Volume 7 (poem 375). The placement of 443 and 444 next to each other is deliberate, since 444 works as an answer to 443. This repetition of 443 has been traditionally viewed as a mistake or a sign of hasty or incompetent editing.

Kifune and Katagiri both say these poems may have appeared here because of the sigure (late year rain) image. Sigure is found in both winter and autumn poems, although the image is more associated with winter. Perhaps the compilers were keen to start off a big set of sigure poems with poems that used hatu sigure (first late year rain), even if the poems on the whole seemed more like autumn poems. There is a clear sequence between the "first colored leaves" of this poem to the "wilted/fallen leaves" of the next poem to the start of winter in 445. Perhaps the best way to look at this is an initial set of poems that show how the sigure rains cross the seasons from autumn to fall. If the compilers were working sequentially, perhaps they initially included this poem as 375 but then later had the idea to begin winter with the 443-445. And then the current text of the GSS we have never received the final round of editing that would have removed the duplication. However, it's not impossible that the duplication was intentional.

444

はつしぐれふるほどもなくさほ山の梢あまねくうつろひにけり

hatu sigure                  The first late year rain
huru hodo mo naku            Has barely started to fall
sahoyama no                  When on Mt. Saho
kozuwe amaneku               Every branch of all the trees
uturohi-ni-keri              Have already changed color.

Changed color

Many texts read iroduki-ni-keri instead, which also means change color. The base text's uturohu can also carry a secondary meaning of scattering and falling, which may be more appropriate here.

--

This poem seems to be a response to 443; the difficulties of these poems appearing in the Winter volume are discussed above. The poem appears in the Korenori Collection where it is said to be a poem read at the Emperor Teiji poetry competition. MYS 8.1553 is similar:

時雨の雨間なくし降れば御笠山木末あまねく色づきにけり

The late year rains have barely started to fall when all the ends of the trees on Mt. Mikasa have turned color.

It was used as a honka for Senzaishu 353:

初しぐれふるほどもなくしもとゆふ葛城山はいろづきにけり

The first late year rain has barely started to fall when Kazuraki Mountain turns color.

445

神な月ふりみふらずみ定めなき時雨ぞ冬の始めなりける

kaminaduki                     In the tenth month
huri-mi hura-zu-mi             It falls and then it doesn't fall
sadame naki                    It has no pattern
sigure zo huyu no              These late spring rains are what mark
hazime nari-keru               The beginning of winter.

--

Continuing from the previous sigure poems, we are now into winter. Early commentaries put focus on the type of sigure that was particular to winter, but this seems to be just a description of sigure in general. Kifune praises the poem as expressing the feel of the season and the nature of sigure.

446

冬くればさほの河せにゐるたづもひとりねがたきねをぞなくなる

huyu kure-ba                   When winter arrives
saho no kawase ni              At the banks of Saho river
wiru tadu mo                   The sitting crane
hitori ne-gataki               Has trouble sleeping alone
ne wo zo naku-naru             I hear crying in pain.

--

This seems to be a love poem, with the poet, like the crane, sleeping alone and crying. The Saho River is typically associated with the tidori bird, not the crane. Neither the river nor the bird have any particular seasonal association. The poem also appears in the Ise Collection, with textual variants that emphasize the love reading.

447

ひとりぬる人のきかくに神な月にはかにもふるはつ時雨かな

hitori nuru                    Sleeping alone
hito no ki-kaku ni             I am one who hears it
kaminaduki                     In the tenth month
nihaka ni mo huru              It suddenly starts to fall
hatusigure kana                The first rains of the late year.

--

This continues the love connotations of the previous poem; this poem could also be taken as general sorrow, but along with the previous poem it seems to lead into the next poem which has a more explicit love theme.

Shunzei included this poem in his Korai futeisho, and Kifune praised the simple language but deep pathos.

448

秋はてて時雨ふりぬる我なればちることのはをなにかうらみむ

aki hate-te                    Autumn has ended
sigure huri-nuru               The late rains fall and soak
ware nare-ba                   My aged body
tiru koto no ha wo             So the fallen leaves of words,
nani ka urami-mu               Why should I resent them?

fall...aged

The verb huru can be either "fall" or "growing old".

leaves of words

Although koto no ha simply means "words", it echoes ko no ha (tree leaves).

--

This poem has a more explicit love meaning than the previous ones, while continuing the rain imagery. The play on huru is common to such poetry, as is the play on aki ("autumn" and "grow tired of"). The "fallen leaves of words" is a bit more difficult to interpret. Kigin and Nakayama thought it meant that the couple's letters and poems had been leaked to the world causing embarrassment, but modern commentators take it to mean that his pledges have come to naught.

The poem seems to have been written based on KKS 782 by Komachi, which appears in a slight variation as GSS 450.

449

吹く風は色も見えねど冬くればひとりぬるよの身にぞしみける

huku kaze ha                  The wind that's blowing
iro mo mie-ne-do              Has no color we can see
huyu kure-ba                  But when winter comes
hitori nuru yo no             On the nights I sleep alone
mi ni zo simi-keru            It seeps into my body.

seeps

The word simu can mean "dye" as well.

--

This is another poem drawing on the imagery of winter and sleeping alone. Here the contrast is between the "colorless" wind and the image of the wind dyeing the poet's body with its cold. Poem 443 in the Kokin waka rokujo is similar:

吹きくれば身にもしみける秋風を色なきものと思ひけるかな

When it blows in it seeps into the body, the autumn wind, though I don't think it has any color.

450

秋はててわが身にしぐれにふりぬれば事の葉さへにうつろひにけり

aki hate-te                    Autumn ends, and then
waga mi sigure ni              The late year rains fall and soak
huri-nure-ba                   My aged body,
koto no ha sahe ni             Then even leaves of your words
uturohi-ni-keri                Have faded and scattered down.

--

See 448 for the imagery and wordplay here. This poem also appears as KKS 782 by Ono no Komachi, with a different first line, followed by a response poem by Ono no Sadaki:

人を思ふ心の木の葉にあらばこそ風のまにまに散りもみだれめ

If the "leaves" are truly words that show love to you, how could they be scattered by the whims of the wind?

V1

神な月しぐればかりはふらずしてゆきがてにしもなどかなるらん

kaminaduki                      In the tenth month
sigure bakari ha                It isn't just late year rains
hura-zu site                    That are falling, but
yuki-gate ni si mo              Snow is mixed in with it:
nado ka naru-ran                How can this possibly be?

Snow

yuki-gate plays on "difficult to go".

--

This poem is not found in the base text, nor in Teika's later texts, but it is present in his earlier texts and in all of the variant manuscripts (although most of them read sahe in the fourth line instead of si mo). All the edo-period editions, as well as the old Kokka Taikan, contain this poem as well. This means that for the rest of the poems, the numbering found in older research will be off by one. That is, if a book written in the 1960s refers to GSS 892, it will actually be 891 by the numbering of recent editions. Kifune includes the poem in his edition despite it not being in the base text.

The poem is found in the Ise Collection in a set of 12 love exchanges. The love meaning here is the play on "difficult to go" -- the man is apologizing for not being able to visit the woman, perhaps because of snow. Kigin and Nakayama do not take a love reading for this poem; Kigin says that the snow makes it difficult to visit the mountains, and Nakayama says this is just a description of winter scenery.

451

神な月時雨とともにかみなびのもりのこのははふりにこそふれ

kaminaduki                        In the tenth month
sigure to tomo ni                 Along with the late year rains
kaminabi no                       In Kaminabi
mori no ko no ha ha               Forest, the leaves of the trees
huri ni koso hure                 Fall and fall, completely gone.

--

The poem is simple, although there are some poetic devices -- the repetition of kamina in the first and third lines brings a certain euphony. The leaves and the rain both fall. There may be a suggestion that in this kami (god) month, even in the kami forest the leaves fall.

Perhaps this poem was a companion to KKS 253:

神な月時雨もいまだふらなくにかねてうつろふかみなびの森

The tenth month rains have yet to fall, but the leaves in Kaminabi Forest have already turned color.

Kifune reads 443-451 as a long love sequence stretching from autumn to winter.

452

女につかはしける

たのむ木もかれはてぬれば神な月時雨にのみもぬるるころかな

tanomu ki mo                 The trees relied on
kare-hate-nure-ba            Have withered up and vanished
kaminaduki                   So the tenth month is
sigure ni nomi mo            When only the late year rains
nururu koro kana             Drench me thoroughly with tears.

trees relied on

tanomu also indicates the woman that the man relied on, and the tanomu ki is a wooden structure or temporary hut.

withered

kare plays also on "departing" (a man or woman leaving)

--

This love poem continues the rain imagery, similar to 432. Perhaps the woman has found another lover. Some alternate texts read sode (sleeves) instead of koro (time), strengthening the common love imagery, although it is clear even in the base text's version.

453

山へいるとて

When he was entering a mountain.

増基法師

Priest Zouki

神な月時雨ばかりを身にそへてしらぬ山地に入るぞかなしき

kaminaduki                      In the tenth month
sigure bakari wo                It is only the late rain
mi ni sohete                    That I take with me
siranu yamadi ni                To the unknown mountain path
iru zo kanasiki                 I enter in with sorrow.

--

Sogi classifies this as a travel poem. The GSS' small set of travel poems do have a few dealing with journeys in mountains, but the focus here is on the priest leaving the world behind, taking only the rain (and no other worldly possessions) as he enters the mountain to begin his ascetic life.

Nakayama has an interesting analysis of the poem. He mentions two theories from "certain people" -- one that there is an implied play on huru (falling rain and growing old), and another than the way the late rains move around the mountains is associated with the poet's movement. Nakayama sees both of these as doubtful, and says that if you look too deeply into a poem like this it begins to lose its pathos. Kudo does support the "movement of the late rains" association.

Shunzei included this poem in his Korai futeisho, and the pseudo-Teika Teika jittei classifies this as a 濃様体 poem (without defining what the type means).

454

神無月ばかりに、大江千古がもとに「あはむ」とてまかりたりけれども、侍らぬほどなれば、かへりまできて、たづねてつかはしける

In the 10th month, he said he would visit Oe no Chifuru and went there, but [Chifuru] was not there, so [Tadamasa] returned home, and then sent this.

藤原忠房朝臣

Lord Fujiwara no Tadamasa

もみぢばはをしき錦と見しかども時雨とともにふりでてぞこし

momidiba ha                    The autumn leaves were
wosiki nisiki to               A beautiful brocade
mi-sika-domo                   I saw it and yet
sigure to tomo ni              Along with the late year rains
huri-de-te zo kosi             I turned and fell away.

fell

huri plays on the falling rain, the poet leaving, and for association with "brocade", the idea of dyeing clothes.

--

This is a personal exchange after a failed visit. Tadamasa praises Chifuru's garden while also regretting that they could not meet. He begins a set of wordplays on cloth dyeing which Chifuru continues in his response. There is also an interesting sound sequences of wosiki nisiki misika in the second and third lines. Many non-Teika texts read nisiki ni misikado which heightens the soundplay.

455

返し

Response

大江千古

Oe no Chifuru

もみぢばも時雨もつらしまれにきてかへらむ人をふりやとどめぬ

momidiba mo                           The autumn leaves and
sigure mo turasi                      The late year rains both wound me
mare ni ki-te                         The person rarely
kahera-mu hito wo                     Visiting, and then leaving,
huri ya todome-nu                     They would not fall to stop him!

--

The meaning is clear and provides an effective response to Masafusa's poem. Kifune also identifies a number of words poetically associated with the brocade that Masafusa mentioned -- huri and todome both associating with dyeing, and kaeramu hi as the color that the brocade is changing too. The exchange shows the friendship between the two.

456

題しらず

Circumstance unknown

よみ人も

Also the poet

神な月限りとや思ふもみぢばのやむ時もなくよるさへにふる

kaminaduki                      Do they think the tenth month, 
kagiri to ya omohu              Is the end of their time here
momidiba no                     The autumn leaves?
yamu toki mo naku               Is that why, without ceasing,
yoru sahe ni huru               They even fall in the night?

--

The poems on the end of the autumn leaves continue; here the poet laments their swift scattering.

This seems to have been a well known poem at the time. Minamoto no Shitago's collection notes that in 951, when the order to compile the GSS came down, Shitago composed the following poem based on the poem above:

神な月はてば紅葉もいあかんれや時雨とともにふりにふるらん

When the 10th month ends, what happens to the autumn leaves? They fall and fall along with the late year rains.

457

ちはやぶる神がき山のさか木ばは時雨に色もかはらざりけり

tihayaburu                       From a thousand years
kamigakiyama no                  On the tall sacred mountain
sakakiba ha                      Sakaki tree leaves
sigure ni iro mo                 Even the rains of the late year
kahara-zari-keri                 Do not change their color.

(first line)

tihayaburu is a pillow word for "mountain" of uncertain meaning.

Tall sacred mountain

kamigaki yama seems not to be a specific place name, although it's possible it is a mountain near Kamigaki Forest in Yamato prefecture. It may just mean a sacred mountain. KKS 1074 also has these two images together.

--

In contrast to the last poem's falling leaves, here we have evergreen leaves that never fall. There is a difference among commentators on whether the poem is suggesting that the presence of the gods prevents the leaves from changing -- both because of the "sacred" mountain and the sakaki tree itself, which was used in Shinto rites.

458

住まぬ家にまできて、紅葉にかきて、いひつかはしける

He went to a house he did not live in, wrote on autumn leaves, and sent this.

枇杷左大臣

Biwa Minister of the Left [Nakahira]

人すまずあれたるやどをきて見れば今ぞこのはは錦をりける

hito suma-zu                         No person lives here
are-taru yado wo                     To the ravaged dwelling
ki-te mire-ba                        I have come to look,
ima zo konoha ha                     It is only now that the leaves
nisiki wori-keru                     Have woven a brocade for me.

--

This poem could go in the autumn volume, but the response uses sigure, making it appropriate for here. The idea behind the poem is perhaps that the house looks even better than when he lived there -- the man bears a grudge for being abandoned. Or if it is an attempt to restart their relationship, it may simply recall the happy time they spent together in the house.

This is the first poem in the Ise Collection, where it has a much longer prose preface that explains the situation more fully. Nakahira had met Ise when she was serving at the palace, and they had a relationship. But Nakahira was forced to marry someone else for political reasons, and their relationship ended. Years later he came to the house (perhaps on 5th avenue) where they lived, and attached autumn leaves to this poem.

459

返し

Response

伊勢

Ise

涙さへ時雨にそひてふるさとは紅葉の色もこさまさりけり

namida sahe                     I cry tears of blood
sigure ni sohi-te               Even these, when the rain falls:
hurusato ha                     Their depth of color
momidi no iro mo                Exceeds that of autumn leaves
ko-sa masari-keri               In the house we used to share.

--

Ise responds to Tokihira's poem by reminding him that he abandoned her, and that she cries tears of blood.

458 and 459 appear in some manuscripts of the Sosei collection, leading some commentators to suggest that the poems were intentionally reused (with variations) by Ise and Tokihira. These comments are based on a strong trust in the reliability of these personal collections. But the older collections were typically not compiled by the people themselves, and could contain poems that the poets did not write.

460

題しらず

Circumstance unknown

よみ人も

Also the poet

冬の池の鴨のうはげにおくしものきえて物思ふころにもあるかな

huyu no ike no                    On a winter pond
kamo no uhage ni                  The frost on the exposed fur
oku simo no                       Of the duck melts,
kie-te mono omohu                 This is a time when my heart too
koro ni mo aru kana               Seems to melt in worry.

melts

The first three lines are a poetic preface that leads to the poet's heart "melting" out of love worry.

--

This is a love poem, a "preface poem" (序歌) expressing abstract feelings of love with nature metaphors. Such poems were favored by the KKS compilers over personal love poems addressed to specific people. The GSS' love volumes are almost entirely personal poems, and the compilers preferred to put this sort of metaphorical poem in the seasonal volume. As a love poem it continues from the previous exchange; perhaps we can imagine Tokihira feeling this way after failing to reconnect with Ise, or Ise herself recalling her love worries.

A similar poem by Tadamine is in the KKS (566):

かきくらし降る白雪のしたぎえにきえて物思ふころにもあるかな

The snow piles up and the bottom snow melts, this is a time when my heart too, seems to melt in worry.

461

親の外にまかりて、遅く帰りければ、つかはしける

Her parent had left, and was late in returning, so she sent this

人のむすめのやつなりける

This is someone's daughter named Yatsu

神な月時雨ふるにもくるるひを君まつほどはながしとぞ思ふ

kaminaduki                   In the tenth month
sigure huru ni mo            When the late rains are falling
kururu hi wo                 Even as the sun sets
kimi matu hodo ha            The time that I wait for you
nagasi to zo omohu           I feel is far too long.

--

This poem continues the long set of sigure poems. The idea here is that the shortest days are found in the tenth month, but even here the speaker feels that the nights are too long.

This is an unusual poem in several respects. A poem written by a child to a parent is atypical for an Imperial collection, which typically features only poems by named adults (or anonymous compositions). Minamoto no Toshiyori noted this in his Toshiyori Zuino as a child's poem, and it appears in the Fukurozoshi as well, suggesting that this was of note to Heian-period poets as well.

Second, the author attribution is strange even by GSS standards. Other poem-tale like poems do use attributions like "the woman's daughter", but not complete sentences like this poem has. A number of alternate texts lack this part, or put it in the preface. It's hard not to feel like this attribution was originally part of the preface and became disconnected later. The Gosenshu seigi claims this was written by Tsurayuki's daughter at age 7, and that her original poem in Tsurayuki's collection read titi matu hodo (waiting for father). There is no proof of this, and the poem does not appear in any extant version of the Tsurayuki Collection. Most commentators take the parent to be a mother.

The Seigi and Kigin praise the poem, as does Kifune, for being a good childish poem. Kifune does note that it may just be an artificial construction. Kudo points to the use of love imagery. Without the prose preface this could be read as a poem by a woman waiting for a man that fails to come, and it may be that what was originally a love poem was later placed in this context.

462

題しらず

身をわけて霜やおくらんあだ人の事のはさへにかれもゆくかな

mi wo wake-te                    Separating us
simo ya oku-ran                  The frost seems to lie heavy.
adabito no                       The faithless person,
koto no ha sahe ni               Even their words, like the leaves,
kare mo yuku kana                Have withered and gone away.

author

Most texts have よみ人しらず (author unknown) here, even Teika's other texts. Kifune also adds the words. They should be here; otherwise this poem and the next 8 are by Yatsu, and this is clearly not the intent. This may be a remnant of the state of the text before the "Yatsu" attribution was added to the previous poem, but it's unclear why Teika dropped the words in this text.

leaves, withered

These are the familiar plays on leaves/words, and wither/part.

--

This is another love poem, but the volume now begins to move away from the sigure rains into other winter precipitation -- frost, sleet, and snow. There is some question about what the first line means. It may mean that the frost is specifically targeting the poet, or that she is being separated from her lover, or that her own body is being torn apart.

The first line seems to come from KKS 787 by Tomonori:

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 tear my body apart, so why has my lover's heart been carried away?

In this poem the simo is emphatic particles, but perhaps their appearance in the poem prompted the GSS poet to use it to mean "frost" instead. In Tomonori's poem the mi wo wake-te clearly means tearing the body apart, but the GSS poet has chosen to use it for perhaps a more open-ended meaning.

463

冬の日、武蔵につかはしける

On a winter day, he sent this to Musashi.

人しれず君につけてしわが袖のけさしもとけずこほるなるべし

hito sire-zu                     My sleeves are drenched through
kimi ni tuke-te-si               From the way you touched my heart
waga sode no                     Unknown to you
kesa si mo toke-zu               This morning they will not melt
kohoru naru-besi                 But harden to solid ice.

Musashi

Presumably a gentlewoman, named after a relative who was the governor of Musashi province. This may be the author of GSS 1170 and the lady who appears in Tales of Yamato 103. But no certain details about her are known.

This morning

There may be a play on the emphatic particles si mo and the word "frost".

--

This is a love poem on a general winter theme, but the exact interpretation varies. Kudo's reading is that the tears are shed by the poet because the cold woman has turned him away when he tried to visit. But he notes an alternate reading of kimi ni kake-te for the second line, which would mean they slept together. Kifune emends his text and interprets this as a poem of parting on the next day after their encounter.

Nakayama reads the tears as the mutual tears of the man and woman, sad that they cannot meet because their love is forbidden -- he reads the hito sire-zu of the first line as a general statement that their love is hidden from all, not that she is unaware of his feelings. This becomes, then, the man's letter for the next morning.

464

題しらず

Circumstance unknown

かきくらし霰ふりしけ白玉をしける庭とも人の見るべく

kakikurasi                     Obscuring the sky
arare huri-sike                Fall and fall, hail, all over!
siratama wo                    White colored jewels
sike-ru niwa to mo             Blanketing the garden floor,
hito no miru beku              Make people see it like that.

--

Hail (arare) does not appear in any winter KKS poems, although in subsequent anthologies the winter volume usually contains a handful of poems on the topic. This is a typical mitate, a metaphorical poem where the hail on the ground is seen as jewels. The Waka shogakusho included this as an example of such a comparison poem.

465

神な月しぐるる時ぞみよしのの山のみゆきもふり始めける

kaminaduki                     In the tenth month
sigururu toki zo               When the late rains are falling
mi-yosino no                   On mount Yoshino
yama no mi-yuki mo             Beautiful snow already
huri hazime-keru               Has started to pile up.

--

Snow is of course a major image in winter poetry in all Imperial collections. Here the GSS provides a link from the sigure rains poems to the snow poems by a common technique used in other seasonal poetry. Where the poet is (the capital, or maybe a rural village) is contrasted with other places. Yoshino is associated with snow in the KKS -- KKS 18, in particular, has the contrast between spring coming to the capital while snow is still falling on Yoshino. The KKS also has a number of poems that show winter arriving first to Yoshino before elsewhere.

466

けさの嵐寒くもあるかなあしひきの山かきくもり雪ぞふるらし

kesa no arasi                  The storm this morning
samuku mo aru kana             Is very chilly indeed!
asihiki no                     On the mountain
yama kakikumori                It must be fully obscured
yuki zo huru-rasi              By the snow that is falling.

--

The transition to a colder winter and snow continues with another common Heian style seasonal poem. The poet hears or sees something at one place and assumes how the weather must be elsewhere. In both 465 and 466 the snow has not yet reached the poet, but they assume it must be present in the mountains. Some alternate manuscripts instead of the pillow word asihiki no have either Yoshino or Shikishima mountain. For Yoshino see the previous poem. Shikishima does not appear in the first eight Imperial collections but occurs in the MYS as a pillow word for Yamato province.