Category: Seasons

Sleeping Alone: Poem Number 3

This is one of my favorite poems as of late:

JapaneseRomanizationTranslation
あしびきのAshibiki noMust I sleep alone
山鳥の尾のYamadori no ō nothrough the long autumn nights,
しだり尾のShidari no ō nolong like the dragging tail
ながながし夜をnaga nagashi yo woof the mountain pheasant
ひとりかもねむhitori kamo nenseparated from his dove?
Translation by Dr Joshua Mostow

The author of this poem Kakinomoto no Hitomaro (柿本人麻呂, dates unknown), was one of the pre-eminent poets of the Asuka Period in Japan, and contributed to the Manyoshu anthology as well. According to my new book, he served in the courts of emperors Tenmu, Jitō (poem 2), and Monmu as a kind of “court poet” (kyūtei-kajin, 宮廷歌人). During official outings, or former occasions, the court poet was relied upon to compose a fitting poem for the occasion. So revered was Hitomaro at his job that he, alongside his contemporary Yamabe no Akahito (poem 4), were later called kasei (歌聖, “saints of poetry”).

Hitomaro is also possible candidate for authorship of the famous iroha poem: a poem that uses every hiragana letter only once.

While the poem above looks like any other love poem, the composition, imagery, rhythm and such, make this one really stand out. 😁

The yamadori (山鳥) is actually a species of bird called the Copper Pheasant, known for its long tail, and is our featured photo for today (photo by KKPCW, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons). There’s a great photo here as well. Traditionally, it was thought that the male and female birds slept separately at night, hence Hitomaro was comparing this to his own feeling of loneliness.

One thing I like about this poem, and why I have a particular interest in it, is the repetitive sounds using の (no) throughout. If you recite the poem out loud, it has a particularly nice rhythm to it, and for me it is thus easy to memorize/recite. Try it out and you’ll see what I mean. The frequent use of の also links various words together in a way that stretches out the verse. Thus, Hitomaro isn’t sleeping alone, it feels like a looooooong night alone.

According to the Hyakunin Isshu Daijiten, there are certain birds in Japanese culture that are frequently used to represent autumn. In addition to the Copper Pheasant, other birds include:

  • The wild goose (kari, 雁)
  • The quail (uzura, うずら)
  • The bull-headed shrike, or Lanius bucephalus (mozu, もず)

More on seasonal birds in this post.

The opening verse of this poem is also a nice example of pillow words in the Hyakunin Isshu, originally taken from the Manyoshu.

Finally, one thing to note is that my new book about the Hyakunin Isshu suggests the authorship of this poem is doubtful. In the original Manyoshu anthology, this poem was listed as “author unknown”, poem number 2802, and looked noticeably different:

Original ManyoganaModern JapaneseRomanizationRough Translation1
念友思へどもOmoedomoEven as I try not to think about it,
念毛金津思ひもかねつOmoi mo kanetsuI can’t help but think
足桧之あしひきのAshihiki nohow long this night will
山鳥尾之山鳥の尾のYamadori no ō nobe, like the tail of a
永此夜乎長きこの夜をNagaki kono yo wocopper pheasant.
1 Rough translation by me, apologies for any mistakes.

… but by the time of Fujiwara no Teika (poem 97, こぬ) who compiled the Hyakunin Isshu, it was probably assumed to be Hitomaro. Teika might know something we don’t today though, so it’s quite possibly Hitomaro’s poem, but sadly we’ll never know for sure. But this mystery of how the poem came to be will be covered in a future post someday.

Spring is here: Poem Number 33

One of my personal favorite poems in the entire collection is this one:

JapaneseRomanizationTranslation
ひさかたのHisakata noIn these spring days
光のどけきHikari nodokekiwith the tranquil light
encompassing
春の日にHaru no hi niThe four directions
しづず心なくShizu gokoro nakuwhy should the blossoms scatter
花のちるらむんHana no chiruranwith uneasy hearts?
Translation by Dr Joshua Mostow

The author, Ki no Tomonori (紀友則, ? – 905?), was the cousin of Ki no Tsurayuki (poem 35). Tomonori is one of the Thirty-Six Immortals of Poetry, and helped to compile another famous poetry anthology, the Kokinshū (古今集).

The Kokinshū, formerly known as the Kokin Waka Shū (古今和歌集 “Collection of Ancient and Modern Japanese Poetry”) was completed in 905 and was the first of many efforts by the ancient Court to compile the best poetry, past and present, into an official anthology. The Hyakunin Isshu by contrast was one man’s effort in his retirement. More on that in a later post. As for Tomonori, it is said that he didn’t live to see the completion of the Kokinshū, sadly.

As for this poem, this is one of the most famous in the collection and emblematic of Spring, but also the fleeting nature of the world, and the touch of melancholy that comes with it. Truly this is a lovely poem. It also has a textbook example of a pillow word in the form of ひさかたの (hisakata no) in its opening verse, also used in poem 76.

P.S. Special thanks to “E.G.” for some typo fixes in the poem.

A Cold Winter’s Night: Poem Number 6

This poem has over the years stuck with me every July as the Japanese festival of Tanabata approaches, but also in the deep of winter too.

JapaneseRomanizationTranslation
かささぎのKasasagi noWhen I see the whiteness
わたせる橋にWataseru hashi niof the frost that lies
置く霜のOku shimo noon the bridge the
magpies spread,
白きを見ればShiroki wo mirebathen do I know, indeed,
夜ぞふけにけるYo zo fuke ni keruthat the night has deepened.
Translation by Dr Joshua Mostow

This poem was composed by Chūnagon Yakamochi (中納言家持, 718 – 785), or “Middle Councillor Yakamochi”. He is also known as Ōtomo no Yakamochi (大伴家持). Yakamochi was from a prestigious but declining family at the time, and is credited with compiling the Manyoshu, the earliest extant poetry anthology we have today. Yakamochi also contributed many of his own poems to the Manyoshu (compiler’s privilege?), and is considered one of the Thirty Six Immortals of Poetry.

Unfortunately, Yakamochi later got caught up in a series political intrigues, and after achieving the rank of Middle Counselor, he was first sidelined to a remote post, and later after drowning in a river. Worse, just after his death in 785, a powerful noble named Fujiwara no Tanetsugu was assassinated, and Yakamochi was implicated as part of the plot, despite being dead. Thus the Otomo family name was disgraced until 806 when Yakamochi was posthumously pardoned and his rank restored.

Anyhow, this poem’s reference to the Magpie’s Bridge comes from two places: the Imperial Palace at the time had a set of stairs called the Magpie’s Bridge, but also in later generations, this also referred to the famous legend of Tanabata. On the night when Orihime and Hikoboshi would meet every year, they could cross a bridge made of magpies whose wings were extended end to end.

In both ways, the poem expresses a lonely, long, and cold winter’s night.

The First Signs of Spring: Poem Number 35

Early Spring is always an exciting time to look forward to, and this is a great poem for that time of year:

JapaneseRomanizationTranslation
人はいさHito wa isaWith people, well
心も知らずKokoro mo shirazuyou can never know their hearts;
ふるさとはFurusato wabut in my old village
花ぞむかしのHana zo mukashi nothe flowers brightly bloom with
香ににほひおいけるKa ni nioi keruthe scent of the days of old.
Translation by Dr Joshua Mostow

The author, Ki no Tsurayuki (紀貫之, ? – 945), is among the primary composers of the official anthology, the Kokin Wakashū (古今和歌集), and the person who coined the Six Immortals of Poetry therein. He wrote the famous and fictional Tosa Diary, and is also the cousin of Ki no Tomonori who composed poem 33.

The Kokin Wakashu explains the background to this poem. Whenever Ki no Tsurayuki would make a pilgrimage to Hatsuse (初瀬, modern day Hasedera Temple in Nara), he would stay at a friend’s house along the way. After an extended absence, when Tsurayuki visited again, the owner sent this poem to him with a branch of plum blossoms attached. Mostow hints that in one interpretation, the owner might have been a woman who was sad that he hadn’t visited in a long time, though other interpretations imply the author was a man, and the meaning was more platonic.

Here the reference to “blossoms” is for plum blossoms in particular, called umé (梅). We’ve seen the popularity of plum blossoms over cherry blossoms (sakura 桜) in antiquity even as far back as the Manyoshu.