Tag: Death

Final Parting

I’ve written before about Empress Teishi, the ill-fated first wife of Emperor Ichijō, and patron of Sei Shonagon who wrote poem 62 of the Hyakunin Isshu (よを). Her family lost a power-struggle to a rival faction of the Fujiwara clan, and under pressure Ichijō took a second wife from the winning faction: Empress Shoshi. Teishi was sidelined, and although she did give birth to an heir, she soon died from illness and presumably humiliation and stress.

While watching the historical drama about Lady Murasaki, it showed Teishi’s untimely death, and revealed that she had left a final deathbed poem to her beloved husband. The poem really exists and is actually recorded in an imperial anthology, the lesser-known Goshūishū (後拾遺), number 536:

JapaneseRomanizationRough Translation
夜もすがらYo mo suguraIf you should remember
契りしことをChigirishi koto wothat vow we made
忘れずはWasurezu wain the deep of night,
恋ひむ涙のKoimu namida nothen I long to see
色ぞゆかしきIro zo yukashikithe color of your tears…

In the drama, Emperor Ichijo and Teishi are portrayed as being sincerely in love, yet ultimately they are a victim of politics and forced apart more and more over time. The vow alluded to here was portrayed in the drama as a promise by Emperor Ichijo to always love Teishi no matter what.

Rokuharamitsu-ji Temple in Kyoto, where Teishi was laid to rest. Photo by 663highland, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Later, Teishi was buried (not cremated in typical Buddhist fashion) at a temple called Roku-haramitsu-ji, near an area of Kyoto called Toribeno no Misasagi (鳥戸野陵). Legend says that on the night of her funeral it snowed. Emperor Ichijo, who was unable to attend, was said to have stayed up all night mourning for her at the palace. Later he composed a poem for her, preserved in the Eiga Monogatari, which is as follows:

JapaneseRomanizationRough Translation
野辺までにNobe made niMy heart yearns
心ばかりはKokoro bakari wafor you all the way
通へえどもKayoe domoin Toribeno,
わが行幸みゆきともWaga miyuki tomoand yet I worry if
知らずやあるらんShirazuya aruranyou are aware of my coming.

Later, Sei Shonagon who retired from the Court, was said to have taken up residence near Toribeno no Misasagi, particularly near a temple named Sennyu-ji. You can see some photos of these places in the video posted here. It was looking back in her later years that Sei Shonagon wrote the Pillow Book as a subtle memorial to her beloved patron, looking back fondly on happier days together.

Sources used:

Places mentioned:

Last Meeting: Poem Number 56

This poem, the fifth in our series devoted to the women of the Hyakunin Isshu, is by one of the most famous women of her era, Lady Izumi:

JapaneseRomanizationTranslation
あらざらむんArazaranAmong my memories
この世の外のKono yo no hoka noof this world, from whence
思ひい出にOmoide niI will soon be gone,
今ひとたびのIma hitotabi nooh, how I wish there was
あふおうこともがなOu koto mo ganaone more meeting,
now, with you!
Translation by Dr Joshua Mostow

Izumi Shikibu (和泉式部, 978 – ?), known in the West as “Lady Izumi” was a very talented and passionate poet, but she also faced much tragedy and heartache as well. Apart from her skills with poetry, she was very famous for her public affairs with various men of the Court. Due to her unhappy marriage with Tachibana no Michisada, she left him and met Prince Tametaka, third son of Emperor Reizei. The ensuing affair was such a scandal that her husband divorced her for good and her father disowned her. Further, her daughter, Koshikibu no Naishi (poem 60) was in the custody of her ex-husband, and they remained separated for many years.

Sadly, Tametaka died soon after due to a plague, and Lady Izumi was devastated. She was later the subject of interest by Tametaka’s half-brother, Prince Atsumichi who was already married and slightly younger than her. Their affair was soon discovered, and Atsumichi’s wife was furious and left him. Undaunted, Izumi and Atsumichi moved in together and had a public relationship until Atsumichi died at the age of 27. This relationship is explained in 3rd person by Lady Izumi in her eponymous diary, izumi shikibu nikki (和泉式部日記, “Diary of Lady Izumi”).

At this time, Lady Izumi joined the inner circle of Empress Shoshi, and worked alongside other great women of her time including Lady Murasaki (poem 57) author of the Tales of Genji and Akazome Emon (poem 59). However, as Lady Murasaki’s writings show, the two definitely did not get along:

Izumi Shikibu is an amusing letter-writer; but there is something not very satisfactory about her. She has a gift for dashing off informal compositions in a careless running-hand; but in poetry she needs either an interesting subject or some classic model to imitate. Indeed it does not seem to me that in herself she is really a poet at all.
— trans. Waley, “Diary of Lady Murasaki“

I wrote a much more detailed biography of Lazy Izumi on my other blog, but suffice to say Lady Izumi’s passion was her greatest strength and her greatest detriment. For all this and more, she’s been admired and remembered throughout the ages, and can be seen in young women’s comics in Japan even today:

Lady Izumi as depicted in a young women’s manga of love stories from the past.

Nevertheless, she eventually settled down and reuinted with her daughter, Koshikibu no Naishi, who shared her tremendous talent for verses (poem 60), though Lady Izumi likely outlived her. Once again, Lady Izumi could not escape death around her.

This poem reflects the end of her life and her desire to see someone one last time. According to Professor Mostow, commentators disagree as to whether she wrote this to a dear friend she wanted to see once more, her husband, or a lover. My new book strongly implies that due to the language used, it’s a plea a lover that she misses for one last intimate moment together. The word au/ou (逢う) ostensibly means “to meet”, but not in the generic sense as modern Japanese au (会う). As we also see in poem 25, the term 逢う meant to spend the night together romantically.

Nevertheless, to me the poem is also a sobering reminder that all good things must come to and end.