Gosenshu 7
Gosen wakashu Volume 7: Autumn 3 後撰和歌集巻第七 秋下
351
題知らず
Topic unknown
よみ人も
The poet as well
ふぢ袴きる人なみや立ちながらしぐれの雨にぬらしそめつる
hudibakama Fujibakama kiru hito nami ya Perhaps since no one wears it tati-nagara It stands sewn, ready sigure no ame ni In the rains of late autumn nurasi-some-turu Starting to get drenched and stained.
- Fujibakama
- Eupatorium japonicum. The origin of this flower's name is not certain, but the hakama suggests the word for trousers, thus furnishing the wordplay in many poems dealing with it.
- Stands sewn
- Play on tatu (standing, and cut cloth)
- Drenched and stained
- Play on some (beginning to, and dyeing something). The dyeing also suggests the autumn leaves.
--
Fujibakama occur in three KKS autumn poems and just this one GSS poem; the image does not reoccur again until the Kin'yoshu. This is a simple play on the name of the flower, but the extended wordplay and the image of the flowers standing out ready to be worn furnish a kind of comic charm. The three KKS poems (239-241) portray the flower as a cast off, discarded, or forgotten pair of trousers. This poem presents the opposite situation; a finished pair set out and ready to be worn, but no one to use it.
352
秋風にあひとしあへば花すすきいづれともなくほにぞいでける
akikaze ni In the autumn wind ahi to si ahe-ba That blows forth and meets them all hanasusuki The susuki plants idure to mo naku Every one, no exception, ho ni zo ide-keru Their stalks appear and come forth.
--
The susuki return from the first autumn volume. Kifune reads this as a light, comic poem -- the personified plants are meeting the autumn wind (a man) and their love comes forth. Kudo and Katagiri, probably working off the usual negative meaning of autumn wind, read it in a different way. The imagery is hard to interpret, but Katagiri uses a KKS poem to suggest that it is lamenting and sorrow that is coming forth when the wind of aki meets them. Kifune's reading would fit better with the light, comic nature of 351. But the sadder love meaning is a better link to the next poem. Perhaps both are possible?
353
寛平御時后の家の歌合に
At the Empress' Poetry Competition in the Kampyo Era
在原棟梁
Ariwara no Muneyana
花すすきそよともすれば秋風のふくかとぞきくひとりぬるよは
hanasusuki When the pampas grass soyo to mo sure-ba Softly rustles in the night akikaze no The wind of autumn huku ka to zo kiku Is blowing, or so it sounds, hitoru nuru yo ha When I am sleeping alone.
--
This can be a general poem about the sadness of autumn, and how even the softest rustling noise outside can make you feel the autumn wind. It could also be a woman waiting for a man who has abandoned her, feeling the wind of aki in the rustling of the grass. The version in the poetry contest and the Shinsen man'yoshu reads koromo naki mi ha (for my self without clothing) in the last line.
354
題知らず
Topic unknown
よみ人も
Also the poet
はなすすきほにいでやすき草なれば身にならむとはたのまれなくに
hanasusuki The pampas grasses ho ni ide-yasuki Reveal their stalks easily kusa nare-ba And though I know that mi ni nara-mu to ha Waiting for a fruit to come tanoma-re-naku ni Is not something I can trust...
--
The poem trails off in the end, suggesting a conclusion. Opinions have differed on the meaning. One reading is that this person I love shows his or her feelings too easily, and I can't count on them being faithful in the end -- yet I still love them. Another reading is that it specifically focuses on a hidden love; that when someone reveals that love to you, you probably can't count on it (but you do it anyway). Nakayama was the only one to take the position that this was not about love, but the association of ho ni idu with revealing one's feelings is strong in Heian poetry.
355
秋風にさそはれわたる雁がねは雲ゐはるかにけふぞきこゆる
akikaze ni Invited here by sasoha-re wataru The autumn wind, the voice of kari ga ne ha Geese crossing the sky: kumowi haruka ni Far away beyond the clouds kehu zo kikoyuru Today is when I hear it.
--
Geese appear in a few spring poems as they leave for the season, but they are a much greater presence in autumn poetry both in the KKS and GSS. The idea of the geese being invited back by autumn wind is found in the KKS and goes back to Chinese poetry.
356
越の方に思ふ人侍りける時に
When there was someone he thought about in Koshi
つらゆき
Tsurayuki
秋のよに雁かもなきてわたるなりわが思ふ人の事づてやせし
aki no yo ni On this autumn night kari ka mo naki-te The cry perhaps of a geese wataru nari Passing by I hear. waga omohu hito no Surely the one I think of kotodute ya se-si Did not send me a message.
- Koshi
- An ancient province that was later divided into Echizen, Etchū, and Echigo.
- Perhaps of a geese
- The three modern editions all agree that the kamo in karikamo is "maybe", and Katagiri says this occurs in the MYS as well. Previous commentators had a difficult time with this, taking it as a mistake for karigane (geese), as kamo being a general name for any water bird, or as a sentence-ending exclamation. Only Sogi, the earliest commentator on this poem, agrees with the modern scholars.
--
The idea of the goose sending a message may be based on a Chinese legend of Sū Wǔ sending a message by a goose, but the idea may have passed into common understanding by this time. Tsurayuki hears the goose coming from the direction of Koshi and wonders if his love has sent a message.
357
題知らず
Topic unknown
あき風に霧とびわけてくるかりの千世にかはらぬ声きこゆなり
akikaze ni On the autumn wind kiri tobi-wake-te Flying through the misty sky kuru kari no The geese coming back tiyo ni kahara-nu A thousand ages unchanged kowe kikoyu nari Their voice can be heard below.
- Geese
- The word kari also suggests "temporary", which is then contradicted by the tiyo (thousand ages) in the next line.
--
The meaning of the poem is fairly direct, but both Nakayama and Kifune suggested it might be a celebratory screen painting. The "thousand ages" is common in poems praising an Emperor or other high-ranking person. Nakayama suggests the entry into palace service of a Consort. But this poem is not found in the Tsurayuki Collection so we have no more information about its context.
358
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
物思ふと月ひのゆくもしらざりつかりこそなきて秋とつげつれ
mono omohu to Absorbed in worry tukihi no yuku mo Even the passage of days sira-zari-tu I did not realize. kari koso naki-te It was the cry of the geese aki to tuge-ture That told me autumn was here.
--
This might seem like a "beginning of autumn" poem but the idea is that this person's worry has been so great that they didn't realize it was autumn until late in the season when the geese arrived. If the worry is love worries, this could be a woman waiting for a man to visit, and she hears the cry of the geese telling her that aki (autumn, and the man's abandonment) has come.
359
大和にまかりけるついでに
While going down to Yamato
かりがねのなきつるなへに唐衣たつたの山はもみぢしにけり
karigane no As soon as the geese naki-turu nahe ni Cry on their return, just then, karakoromo The Chinese clothing tatuta no yama ha Tatsuta mountain is filled momidi si-ni-keri With the colored autumn leaves.
- Chinese clothing
- karakoromo is a pillow word for Mt. Tatsuta because tatu means "cut [cloth]". It's possible that there's also a link between the colored robes and the autumn leaves.
--
The poems continue to hint at the autumn leaves, while holding off the major block of poems until later in this volume. This poem also appears in the Man'yoshu, the Hitomaro Collection, and the Yakamochi Collection with textual variations in each. This seems to be a poem that was rewritten or transmitted differently several times, but the prose preface is unique to the GSS.
360
題知らず
Topic unknown
秋風にさそはれ渡るかりがねは物思ふ人のやどをよかなん
akikaze ni Invited back by sasoha-re wataru The autumn wind, the geese that karigane ha Cross high in the sky, mono omohu hito no I would have you stay away yado wo yoka-nan From the house of one in worry.
--
The cry of geese is sometimes said to bring worry because it reminds the hearer of autumn. So the poet wishes that the geese would avoid his house. The feeling is similar to KKS 145:
- 夏山に鳴くほととぎす心あらば物思ふ我に声な聞かせそ
- O cuckoo that cries in the mountains: if you have a heart, do not let me in my sorrow hear your voice.
This poem was included by Teika in the Kindai shuka and Eiga no taigai selections of poetry.
361
誰きけと鳴く雁金ぞわがやどのを花が末を過ぎがてにして
tare kike to Who do you cry to naku karigane zo Telling them to listen, goose? waga yado no It seems hard for you wobana ga suwe wo To avoid the pampas tips sugi-gate ni site In the garden of my house.
--
If we read this as a continuation of the previous poem, the geese, invited by the swaying pampas grass in the wind, are crying out to the poet to listen. But he is sunk down in worry and does not want to hear. The idea of the pampas grass inviting people occurs in other GSS and KSS poems, but the pairing of pampas grass and geese is new to the GSS. Kudo likens it to a screen painting with pampas at the bottom and geese flying overhead at the top.
362
往き還りここもかしこも旅なれやくる秋ごとにかりかりとなく
yuki kaeri Coming and going koko mo kasiko mo Flying here and flying there tabi nare ya Always traveling, kuru aki goto ni Perhaps that's why every fall karikari to naku The geese cry "kari! kari!"
- kari! kari!
- In the MYS the idea already appeared that the kari (goose) was named after its cry, which sounded like kari. This also plays on kari "temporary".
--
This is a comic haikai style poem -- the geese cry "kari" because they never stay in one place for too long. The idea of the geese crying "kari" is found in the MYS but in Heian court poetry only in the GSS. Katagari highlights this as an expression of the more casual style of the GSS.
This poem and the next two form a small block on this idea of the geese's cry being "kari!"0
363
秋ごとにくれどかへればたのまぬを声にたてつつかりとのみなく
akigoto ni In every autumn kure-do kahere-ba They come but then soon depart tanoma-nu wo So we can't trust them, kowe ni ta-te-tutu Then why do they raise their voice kari to nomi naku Over and over, "kari!"
--
"We already don't trust you to stay, you don't need to go out of your way to cry 'I'm only here temporarily!'" Like the last poem, this is a comic one playing on the sound of the geese's cry. Kifune notes the undercurrent of the aki pun hinting at a love meaning with a man coming and going, although this is likely just an additional comic effect.
364
ひたすらにわがおもはなくにおのれさへかりかりとのみなきわたるらん
hitasura ni Already I don't waga omoha-naku ni Think of you that earnestly -- onore sahe You do not have to karikari to nomi Fly here and there crying out naki-wataru-ran Nothing but "kari! kari!"
--
This poem is very similar in feeling to the previous one, completing the small group of three poems. Kigin and Norinaga read the poem as referring to the impermanence of the world. They may have felt that the poem's meaning was too much in the haikai style otherwise. But Nakayama and all the modern commenters disagree.
A very similar poem attributed to Tsurayuki appears in the Kokin waka rokujo:
- ひたすらに我がきかなくに雲わけてかりぞかりぞと告げわたるらん
- I'm not really listening that intently, but they fly out of the clouds crying "Kari zo kari zo!" all over the place.
365
人の「雁は来にけり」と申すを聞きて
He heard someone say "The geese have come."
みつね
Mitsune
年ごとに雲地まどはぬかりがねは心づからや秋をしるらん
tosi-goto ni Each and every year kumodi madoha-nu They are not lost in the cloud road, karigane ha The flying geese: kokorodukara ya From their own hearts they must know aki wo siru-ran That autumn has now arrived.
- They are not lost
- Kifune emends the text to madoha-zu kuru kane ha, the reading of many alternate manuscripts and the Kokin waka rokujo. His reasoning is that the base text's version doesn't match the prose preface.
--
This is a simple and direct poem; the preface indicates it was composed on the spot in response to what a person said. Perhaps it was an especially cloudy day and the geese appeared out of the clouds.
366
大和にまかりける時、かれこれともにて
When he was going down to Yamato, there were various people with him
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
天河かりぞとわたるさほ山のこずゑはむべも色づきにけり
ama no gaha In heaven's river kari zo to wataru They geese cry and cross the gate sahoyama no Oh, now I see why kozuwe ha mube mo Branches on Saho Mountain iroduki-ni-keri Are tinged with autumn color.
- Heaven's river
- While this is the sky, it may also suggest a place in Yamato called ten no kawa.
- Saho Mountain
- A place in Yamato, known for its autumn leaves.
--
Kifune seems to be the only commenter who offers a reading that incorporates the prose preface. The poet is in a group of people crossing this river on or around Saho mountain. He uses this poem to compare them to geese crossing through the sky. He was hoping to see autumn leaves in this mountain, where they are famous, and so he notes the color on the branches. The GSS continues to hint at autumn leaves, the major block of which will appear soon.
KKS 267 provides a poetic precedent for Saho Mountain's leaves turning red late in the autumn.
367
兼輔朝臣、左近少将に侍りける時、武蔵の御馬迎へにまかりたつ日、にはかに障ることありて、代わりに、同じ司の少将にて迎へにまかりて、逢坂より随身を帰して、いひ送り侍りける
When Lord Kanesuke was a Left Minor Captain, on the day he was supposed to go to Musashi to receive the horses, something unexpectedly came up, and in his place, another Minor Counselor of the same office went, and from Osaka he sent back a retainer with this poem.
藤原忠房朝臣
Lord Fujiwara no Tadafusa
秋きりのたちのの駒をひく時は心にのりて君ぞこひしき
akikiri no Autumn mist shrouded tatino no koma wo Tachi field's horse I received hiku toki ha And when I took it, kokoro ni nori-te Riding atop my spirit kimi zo kohisiki Was longing for your presence.
- Receive the horses
- This took place on the 15th day of the 8th month, when various provinces would send horses to the Emperor. Someone would go to the Osaka barrier to formally receive them.
--
This is another example of the GSS including an occasional poem written on a yearly function of the type that does not appear in KKS poetry. Tadafusa sent this poem along with acknowledgment that the horses had been received. The poem uses seasonal imagery as well as the image of "riding" used for connection to the horse as well as his thoughts for Kanesuke. The dates of Kanesuke's career are hard to pin down, but this poem would have been read sometime between 913 and 916.
368
題知らず
Topic unknown
在原元方
Ariwara no Motokata
いその神ふるのの草も秋は猶色ことにこそあらたまりけれ
iso no kami Iso no Kami huruno no kusa mo Even old Furu Field grass aki ha naho In autumn, indeed iro koto ni koso Especially the color aratamari-kere Changes itself as if new.
- Iso no Kami
- iso no kami is usually a pillow word for huru (old). Here it leads into "Furu Field", perhaps because both Iso no Kami and Furu Field are in Yamato province. The name of the field suggests "old".
--
The poems continue to move towards autumn leaves, though still away from the capital. The main poetic device here is the opposition of huru (old) in the name of Furu Field, and arata (new) embedded in the verb aratamaru (become like new).
369
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
秋の野の錦のごとも見ゆるかな色なきつゆはそめじと思ふに
aki no no no The fields of autumn nisiki no goto mo Like a brocade of fabric miyuru kana Appear to our eyes! iro naki tuyu ha Though the dew has no color some-ji to omohu ni So it couldn't dye the leaves...
--
See GSS 310 in the previous volume. The idea that the dew is what causes autumn leaves to change colors was commonplace. The poem recalls 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?
But the dew here is not white, it's completely colorless.
The use of nisiki (brocade) as a symbol of autumn leaves is found in the KKS and goes back to Chinese poetry.
370
あきののにいかなるつゆのおきつめばちぢの草葉の色かはるらん
aki no no ni In the autumn fields ika naru tuyu no What kind of dew can it be oki-tume-ba When it piles up tidi no kusaba no All the various grasses iro kaharu-ran Seem to change many colors?
--
This poem is a companion to 369, addressing the same idea.
371
いづれをかわきてしのばむ秋ののにうつろはむとて色かはる草
idure wo ka Which of them should I waki-te sinoba-mu Single out to long for aki no no ni In the autumn field uturoha-mu to te In order to fade away iro kaharu kusa The grasses change their color.
--
The standard way to read this is that all the grasses of the field are changing color and will soon scatter their leaves and die. They're all pitiful, but how can I choose one to single out and long for? Nakayama is the lone dissenter. He reads uturohu with its secondary love meaning of "turn to another lover". The grasses are portrayed as flighty women who change their color just to change their hearts. They're beautiful, but not reliable. So should the poet go after them, or should they go after the more reliable grasses that are less beautiful? This interpretation seems less likely to me.
372
声たててなきぞしぬべき秋きりに友まどはせるしかにはあらねど
kowe tate-te Raising up my voice naki zo si-nu-beki It seems as if I will cry. akikiri ni Though it's not as if tomo mado-hase-ru I'm a deer, seeking its friend, sika ni ha arane-do Lost in the mist of autumn.
--
Deer appear in a block of poems in the KKS, but for some reason GSS uses them only in 298, 372, 373 and a couple of poems in the non-seasonal books. The stereotypical image is of the deer crying for its mate. In this case tomo would suggest a friend rather than a mate. Kifune reads it as a love poem, but Kigin analyzes it as general autumn sorrow. Katagiri simply translates tomo as "friend." Nakayama keeps the option of a friend or lover open, perhaps doubtful about whether tomo can actually be used to refer to a lover.
373
よみ人しらず
Poet unknown
誰きけと声高砂にさをしかのながながし夜をひとりなくらん
tare kike to Who do you call to kowe takasago ni Raising your voice in the mountains sawosika no You forlorn deer naganagasi yo wo It seems that through the long night hitori naku-ran You and I both cry alone.
- Raising your voice
- kowe takasago is a pivot construction on kowe takasi (loud voice) and takasago (here acting as a common noun meaning "mountain").
--
The last two lines of this poem are perhaps derived from the famous poem attributed to Hitomaro, SIS 778:
- あしひきの山鳥の尾のしだり尾のながながし夜をひとりかも寝む
- I will sleep the long night, like the long drooping tail of the mountain bird.
The first line recalls GSS 361 above.
374
打ちはへて影とぞたのむ峯の松色どる秋の風にうつるな
utihahete For a long time now kage to zo tanomu I have relied on your shade mine no matu O pine on the peak, irodoru aki no Do not fade in autumn winds kaze ni uturu na That give color to the leaves.
--
The surface meaning here is that the evergreen pine is still buffeted by the winds of autumn, which the poet is portraying as causing the leaves to change color. The poet is begging the tree to preserve its cooling shade even in the wind.
Since kage can also mean "favor" or "protection", most commenters think there is a secondary meaning here, although without a prose preface it's hard to pin down. It might be directed to a lord or patron to thank them for their favor and beg for their continued patronage. Or, it might be a love poem, with a woman trusting in the man and asking him not to shift his attention to other women. Kifune offers another alternative, that if mine is read as a pun on "not see," the man has not seen the woman yet.
375
はつしぐれ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.
- Late year rain
- sigure, which is either a late autumn or early winter rain.
--
The seasonal sigure rain falls in late autumn or early winter; in the KKS and GSS it appears in a few autumn poems but mostly in winter. Both the MYS and KKS have examples of the idea that these rains cause the leaves to change color.
The poem reappears as the first poem of the Winter volume; see there for comments on the duplication.
376
いもがひもとくとむすぶとたつた山今ぞ紅葉の錦おりける
imo ga himo My lover's robe cord toku to musubu to Tied to release I set off tatutayama On Mount Tatsuya ima zo momidi no Now the colored autumn leaves nisiki ori-keru Have been woven as brocade.
- I set off / on Mount Tatsuya
- This is a pivot construction with tatu (set out) and tatutayama (Mount Tatsuya), and also tatu (cut cloth).
--
This poem is difficult to represent in English translation. The first two lines appear to be a poetic preface with no connection to the autumn imagery. The technique of the poem comes from the many engo (related words) in the first two lines surrounding cloth, and then the engo in the second part connecting to nisiki (brocade). There is a theme of cloth through the whole poem, but while the autumn image is clear and pedestrian, the interest of the poem seems to be in the wordplay.
A very similar poem appears in the MYS (10.2211), with the last line hazime-te ari-kere (The autumn leaves have begun). It appears in the Hitomaro Collection and the Yakamochi Collection, and several non-Teika manuscripts attribute the poem to Fukayabu.
377
雁なきて寒き朝の露ならし龍田の山をもみだすものは
kari naki-te The geese are crying samuki asita no In the cold of the morning tuyu narasi It seems there is dew tatuta no yama wo Thus on Tatsuta Mountain momidasu mono ha The leaves are starting to change.
--
The dew is perhaps the tears of geese (Kudo), which is an image found in the KKS. Dew is one of several things that poetically cause leaves to change. Kigin seems to read the geese as just a part of a scene being evoked (perhaps like a screen painting) and not part of the leaves changing.
378
見るごとに秋にもなるかなたつたひめもみぢそむとや山もきるらん
miru goto ni Each time I see it aki ni mo naru kana It shows that autumn has come! tatuta hime Princess Tatsuya momidi somu to ya Perhaps so to dye the leaves yama mo kiru-ran Mist falls over the mountains.
--
Princess Tatsuta appeared in one earlier GSS poem (265) and in one KKS poem; she is a goddess that is said to control autumn. The exact meaning is difficult to pin down; there is perhaps a play with kiru on "mist" and "wear". Some commenters have the mountains wearing a brocade of autumn leaves woven by Tatsuta, others a robe of mist. The problem is that kiru meaning "mist" is an intransitive verb, so the grammatical relationship of line 5 to lines 3-4 is unclear. The modern commenters all translate to ya as no de (because), but I cannot find this meaning in any reference work I consulted.
379
源宗于朝臣
Minamoto no Muneyuki
梓弓いるさの山は秋きりのあたるごとにや色まさるらん
adusayumi The catalpa bow irusa no yama ha Shooting at Mount Irusa akikiri no Wherever the mist ataru goto ni ya Hits and settles down, perhaps iro masaru-ran The leaves' color then deepens.
- Catalpa bow
- This is a pillow word for irusa and also links to the ataru (hit) later in the poem.
--
The meaning is once again the mist causing the autumn leaves to turn color. The use of ataru in the fourth line has caused some concern; clearly it's being used as engo (poetic assocation) with the bow from the first line, since it means "to hit [a target]". What it means with mist is harder to say. Kifune calls it a fruitless attempt at a wordplay. Other commenters wonder whether it might mean atari (area), although the goto ni (each time/each place) would not work well with that.
