As the weather gets colder, I’ve been saving this one for a time like this:
| Japanese | Romanization | Translation |
|---|---|---|
| 淡路島 | Awaji shima | The crying voices |
| かよふ千鳥の | Kayou chidori no | of the plovers who visit |
| 鳴く声に | Naku koe ni | from Awaji Island— |
| いく夜ねざめぬ | Ikuyo nezamenu | how many nights have they awakened him, |
| 須磨の関守 | Suma no sekimori | the barrier-keepers of Suma? |
The author of the poem, Minamoto no Kanemasa (源兼昌, dates unknown) was a frequent participant in poetry contests of the day, but overall very little is known about him, and it doesn’t appear he had any poetry collections of his own.
The first time I read this poem, in Japanese, I misunderstood the phrase chidori (千鳥) to literally mean 1,000 birds (in other words, a lot of birds). But in fact, chidori refers specifically to plover birds. The featured photo above shows a Western Snowy Plover bird on Morro Strand State Beach, Morro Bay, CA, “Mike” Michael L. Baird, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
In Japanese poetry plover represented winter, and for other seasons, other birds typically were frequently used:
- Spring – Uguisu
- Summer – Hototogisu, the focus of poem 81.
- Autumn – Kari (wild geese)
The location, Awaji Island, is a well known part of Japan’s inland sea, and is culturally significant since antiquity. Though at this time in history, it felt a bit remote from the capitol.
Professor Mostow notes that this poem uses some strange grammar though. For example nezamenu would normally mean to not wake up, but in this context means “have they awakened” instead. Also, he notes that this poem apparently alludes to the Tales of Genji, specifically the “Suma” chapter, when the prince Genji was in exile.
All told, this poem paints a sad, somber picture that fits well with wintry days.
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