Waka poetry, including the Hyakunin Isshu has a lot of conventions and symbols used to express certain seasons or sentiments. This is not so unusual. For example, if someone in the US writes a poem about the smell of cinnamon, it definitely brings to mind late autumn or winter.

One common example in the Hyakunin Isshu of poetic symbolism are birds. Birds have distinctive calls, and different species tend to be prominent at different times of year, among other things. For this post, I included a lot of poetry from the Imperial anthology, the Kokin Wakashu, which is much larger than the 100 poems of the Hyakunin Isshu, and thus easier to find examples.

Spring

The most prominent bird in Spring is the uguisu, the Japanese Bush Warbler, also called the Japanese Mountain Thrush:

The uguisu’s distinctive bird call is very emblematic of the season.

The bird call of the uguisu sounds like ho-ho-ke-kyo, which to Japanese people sounds similar to a famous Buddhist text called the Lotus Sutra (hokekyo in Japanese). I’ve written much about the Lotus Sutra in my other blog, so I do not need to repeat here. Needless to say, when Spring comes, people in Japan inevitably hear this lovely sound, even in urban areas.

Oddly, there are no poems in the Hyakunin Isshu about the uguisu, however, I found many poems in the official anthology, the Kokin Wakashu. Here are a few of my favorites thus far. This first one is poem 4 by Fujiwara no Takako (藤原高子; 842–910) later Nijo-kisaki (二条后, “Nijō Consort”):

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
雪の内に	Yuki no uchi ni	Spring has come amidst
春はきにけり	Haru wa kinikeri	the icy lingering snows
うぐひすの	Uguisu no	of winter
こほおれる涙	Kōreru namida	surely now the frozen of the
今やとくらむん	Ima ya toku ran	mountain thrush will melt away

and this one, poem 10, by one Fujiwara no Kotonao:

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
はるやとき	Hana ya toki	Has spring come early—
花やおそきと	Hana ya osoki to	or are the plum blossoms late—
ききわかむん	Kiki wakan	I would like to know
鶯だにも	Uguisu dani mo	but not even the song of the
なかずもあるかな	Nakazu mo aru kana	mountain thrush trills the answer

and finally this one by Mibu no Tadaminé whom we know from poem 30 in the Hyakunin Isshu (ありあ):

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
春来ぬと	Haru kinu to	Already they say
人はいへえども	HIto wa iedomo	Spring is here but as for me
うぐひすの	Uguisu no	while yet there is no
なかぬかぎりは	Nakanu kagiri wa	song from the mountain thrush
あらじとぞ思ふう	Araji to zo omou	I cannot believe spring has come

Summer

In summer, the most iconic bird is the hototogisu, the Lesser Cuckoo.

And it’s call sounds like so:

We’ve seen the Lesser Cuckoo in poem 81 (ほ) of the Hyakunin Isshu by Gotokudaiji no Sadaijin.

It is also found in Imperial anthologies such as the Kokin Wakashu by an anonymous source:

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
郭公ほととぎす	Hototogisu	When nightingales sing
鳴くや五月の	Naku ya satsuki no	in the sweet purple iris
あやめ草	Ayamegusa	of the Fifth Month
あやめも知らぬ	Ayame mo shiranu	I am unmindful of the warp on
恋もするかな	Koi mo suru kana	which we weave love’s pattern

Apparently, the bird was highly praised during the aristocratic court culture of the Heian Period, and Sei Shonagon (poem 62) mentions an expedition in her Pillow Book:

[94] …it had been overcast and tending to rain since the first day of the [fifth] month. Some of us were sitting about at a loose end, when I came up with the suggestion that it would be fun to go off on an expedition to hear the hototogisu….

[ later ] … and as for the hototogisu, they were indeed calling back and forth, so loudly in fact that they made almost too much of a din for comfort.

Translation by Dr Meredith McKinney

The anecdote is quite long, but Sei Shonagon and the other ladies-in-waiting do encounter the hototogisu, and meant to write poetry about them, but then through a series of interactions forgot the poetry entirely and came back to the Empress empty handed, followed by various witty comments back and forth.

Autumn

Unlike the Spring, where the call of the bird is highly praised in poetry, in the Autumn, the Hyakunin Isshu Daijiten lists a few birds that were revered in poetry. For example, migratory birds, such as the Wild Goose (kari):

Or birds with autumnal colors such as the Quail (uzura):

Or the swift Shrike (mozu):

I had some trouble finding poems for the fall birds listed in either the Hyakunin Isshu or the Kokin Wakashu anthology, but there seems to be a lot in the later Shin-Kokin Wakashu anthology. I don’t have a reliable translation of the Shin-Kokin Wakashu, so I may update later.

I did find this poem under the section “Miscellany 2” in the Kokin Wakashu, poem 497 by an anonymous poet:

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
野とならば	No to naraba	If all becomes dense fields
うづらとなきて	Uzura to nakite	I will pass my years
年はへむん	Toshi wa hen	crying like a quail—
かりにだにやはわ	Kari ni dani ya wa	for surely you will come
君がこざらむん	Kimi wa kozaran	if only for a few days’ hunt.

Winter

The birds associated with winter, were birds whose cries were melancholy and said. First and foremost is the plover, which we saw in poem 78 (あわじ) of the Hyakunin Isshu:

Or the Black-headed Gull (miyako-dori, meaning “bird of the capital”):

The miyakodori in particular stood out due to its unusual name. The Hyakunin Isshu Daijiten lists a poem from the official Kokin Wakashu anthology of note, poem 411 under the section “Travel Poems”:

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
名にしおはば	Na ni shi owaba	Oh capital bird
いざ言問はむ	Iza koto towan	if you are true to your name
都鳥	Miyako-dori	you will know
わが思ふ人はわ	Waga omou hito wa	tell me if the one whom I love is
ありやなしやと	Ari ya nashi ya to	still in this world of partings

The headline for this poem explaining the backstory is unusually long, but basically the poet, Ariwara no Narihira (who also wrote poem 17, ちはやふる, in the Hyakunin Isshu) was away in eastern Japan with some companions, and longing for home in the capital, they saw a miyako-dori bird (lit. “capital bird”) and recited this poem.

And finally there is the Mallard (kamo):

The Mallard in particular had dual-association with romance and with the melancholy of winter. This poem in the Kokin Wakashu, number 533, by an anonymous author illustrates this:

Japanese	Romanization	Translation
葦鴨の	Ashigamo no	No more than do
騒ぐ入江の	Sawagu irie no	White waves dancing across the
白浪の	Shiranami no	inlet, where reed ducks
知らずや人を	Shirazu ya hito wo	cry out noisily, no more
かく恋ひむんとはわ	Kaku koin to wa	does my love know my yearning.

Other Birds

Certain birds were also used in Japanese poetry for symbolic purposes, but not necessarily for seasonal expression.

We’ve talked about birds associated with seasons thus far, but there’s a couple worth calling out that are an important part of Japanese poetry, but not related to seasons. The first is the Copper Pheasant, called yamadori, which we saw in poem 3 of the Hyakunin Isshu (あしびきの).

In antiquity, it was thought that Copper Pheasants mated for life (true), but slept in separate nests at night. Thus, the poet Kakinomoto no Hitomaro likened himself to a Copper Pheasant sleeping alone at night part from his lover.

And finally we come to the magpie. In poem 6 of the Hyakunin Isshu (かさ), the poet Chūnagon Yakamochi describes frost growing under moonlight on the so-called Magpie Bridge of the Imperial Palace. The magpie (kasasagi) was associated with a Chinese myth that evolved into the Qīxī Festival (七夕), celebrated as Tanabata in Japan.

In this tale, two star-crossed lovers, a celestial princess and a cowherd, were forcibly separated in the heavens by her father the Jade Emperor, but allowed to reunite one night a year. It was said they would reunite by crossing a bridge made of magpie birds who put their outstretched wings together. Thus, the magpie was always associated with this famous tale.