As a final poem in March to honor women poets in the Hyakunin Isshu, I wanted to post a humorous, witty poem by Sei Shonagon, author of the Pillow Book:
| Japanese | Romanization | Translations |
|---|---|---|
| 夜をこめて | Yo wo komete | Although, still wrapped in night, |
| 鳥の空音は | Tori no sorane wa | the cock’s false cry |
| はかるとも | Hakaru tomo | some may deceive, |
| よに逢坂の | Yo ni Ōsaka no | never will the Barrier |
| 関はゆるさじ | Seki wa yurusaji | of Meeting Hill let you pass. |
Sei Shonagon (清少納言, dates unknown), along with Lady Izumi (poem 56) and Lady Murasaki (poem 57), is one of the most famous female authors of her generation and Japanese history as a whole. She was the daughter of Kiyohara no Motosuke (poem 42). Her name Sei is another way to read the Chinese character “kiyo” (清), while Shonagon refers to a government post (lit. “lesser councilor of state”), but it’s unclear why it’s attached to her.
She’s best known as the author of the Pillow Book. Despite the name, it is mostly just a book of witty observations regarding court life, nature, art, etc. Whereas Lady Izumi was a hopeless romantic, and Lady Murasaki was melancholy, Sei Shonagon’s writings show she had a sharp, often haughty wit:
[151] People who seem enviable — You set about learning to recite a [Buddhist] sutra, stumbling along, going endlessly over the ame places and constantly forgetting bits. When you hear the same words tripping smoothly off the tongues of others — not only the priests, but other men and women — you wonder enviously if you’ll ever be able to perform like that.
The Pillow Book, trans. Dr Meredith McKinney, page 152
….You have an urge to go on a pilgrimage to Inari Shrine, and as you’re laboriously gasping your way up the steep mountainside to the middle shrine, you’re filled with admiration to see others who’ve obviously started behind you go climbing straight up without the least effort; when you arrive, there they stand, already at their worship….
Sei had the misfortune of serving Empress Teishi, who fell out of favor after her father died, and the Emperor’s 2nd wife, Empress Shoshi, eclipsed her. Lady Izumi and Lady Murasaki served the latter, and by that time Sei Shonagon was a bit of a has-been. This same power struggle also negatively impacted Fujiwara no Sadayori (poem 64). It is thought that Pillow Book was, among other things, a subtle middle-finger to the Court for abandoning Empress Teishi by painting such a rosy picture of her time.
In any case, this poem demonstrates Sei Shonagon’s wit at her finest though. According to the back-story of this poem, she was visited by one Yukinari, the First Controller, who left early in the night, because he had to be back to the Palace before the rooster crowed. Then Sei Shonagon receives a letter from him the next day, stating that he would have loved to stay longer, but then uses the famous example of a Chinese legend about the Lord of Meng Chang who supposedly tricked the guards at Han Ku gate to open it by imitating a rooster crow at night so that they would believe it was morning.
However, Sei is not convinced by his eloquent excuse and sends this snarky poem back that basically says that no one at Ōsaka Gate (Meeting Hill) would be fooled by it.
Dang. 👈🏼👈🏼😎
