by Donald Keene
and seaweed always grows
between the rocks,
just seeing me may bring forth
good things, plentiful as shells.
The man’s reply:
Wringing my sleeves
soaked with tears, I ask—
is your cold heart
made of the drops
that drench my sleeves?
This lady was indeed difficult to court.
76
The Age of the Gods
Long ago, the Empress of the Second Avenue, then still known as the consort mother of the crown prince, departed on a pilgrimage to the august shrine of her ancestral deities. As she was bestowing gifts upon those present, an elderly man in service in the Imperial Guard humbly received his gift directly from her carriage. He had a poem presented to her.
On this auspicious day
the god of Mount Oshio at Ohara
must be recalling with delight
the Age of the Gods and maybe even
something ancient in our past as well.
Was it some deep sorrow that was troubling him? What were his feelings? No one knows.
77
The Parting of Spring
Long ago, there was a sovereign known as the Tamura Emperor, who had a consort named Takakiko. After she passed away, memorial services were held for her at the Anshoji Temple. The participants made many offerings, and about a thousand of these were gathered together. Many were displayed on branches placed before the temple, making it seem as if a whole mountain covered in trees had moved there. When the ceremony was over, the Commander of the Right, Fujiwara Tsuneyuki, summoned some people who were known to write poetry well and instructed them to compose poems to commemorate the ceremony while evoking the spirit of spring. The elderly Chief Equerry of the Right mistook this mountain for a real one and composed a poem on it:
A whole mountain
has moved here today
to mourn a great lady
who parts from us—
at the parting of spring.
Nowadays, when one looks at the poem, it does not seem particularly remarkable. But at the time, it was praised by everyone. Could it have been better than all the other ones composed on that occasion?
78
The Heart Has No Colours
Long ago, after an imperial consort named Takakiko passed away, a memorial service was held for her on the forty-ninth day at the Anshoji Temple. The Commander of the Right, Fujiwara Tsuneyuki, attended the service and, on his way home, made a visit to pay his respects to the cloistered prince, who had retired to Yamashina. The prince’s residence had a beautifully designed garden with a waterfall and a stream. Tsuneyuki greeted him respectfully: ‘All these years I have only been able to serve you from a distance and never attended you in person, so tonight I am at your service.’
The prince expressed great delight and had his guest’s sleeping quarters prepared. In the meantime, the commander came outside with a plan in mind and said to his servants, ‘As this is the first occasion that I wait upon His Highness, it should not pass without some demonstration of my esteem. When His Majesty visited my father’s Third Avenue residence someone presented him with a splendid stone from the beach of Chisato in the province of Ki. But it arrived after his return, so the stone was later placed in a stream in front of a certain person’s room. As His Highness has a great love of gardens, let us present him with this stone.’ With this, he directed his guardsmen and servants to fetch the gift. In no time at all, they returned with the stone, which was even finer than he had heard.
Thinking that it would be a shame to present it without some accompaniment, the commander had his retainers compose poems for the occasion. He chose the poem by the Chief Equerry of the Right; then he had the moss scraped away from the surface of the stone to form the characters of the poem. They stood out as if embossed on gold lacquer. The stone was presented to His Highness with the poem:
The Heart Has No Colours
Though it is hardly enough,
all I can do is to present you
with this stone,
for the heart has no colours
to illustrate one’s feelings.
79
The Shelter of Bamboo
Long ago, the Ariwara clan was blessed by the birth of a prince. To celebrate the occasion, everyone composed poems. Narihira, the grandfather, who was advanced in age, composed this one:
By our gate we have planted a bamboo
a thousand feet high;
through summer and winter,
who among our clan
will not be blessed by its shelter?
The infant was Prince Sadakazu. Though people at the time spread a rumour that he was the son of Narihira, actually the prince’s mother was the daughter of Middle Counsellor Yukihira, Narihira’s brother.
80
Wisteria Blossoms
Long ago, there lived a man from a house of declining fortunes; he had a wisteria vine in his garden, and on one of the last days of spring, as a gentle rain fell, he plucked some blossoms from the vine. These he presented as a gift to a certain person along with a poem:
Not minding at all
that I would get wet,
I picked these blossoms for you
because I knew
but a few days of spring remain.
81
Sailing into a Garden
Long ago, a certain Minister of the Left built himself a very sophisticated house beside the Kamo River on the Sixth Avenue and took up residence there. It was approaching midwinter, when the colour of the fading chrysanthemums was at its peak, and the leaves blazed in many shades of red. The Minister of the Left invited some imperial princes to a party, and they drank and played music throughout the night. When dawn broke, everyone recited a poem in praise of their host’s residence. There was an old tramp present, walking around under the viewing stands, and after all the guests had finished reciting their poems, he recited one of his own:
Without knowing how,
suddenly I find myself
at Shiogama by the sea.
Let the fishing boats sail in
on the morning calm.
On his trip to Michinoku, the old man had seen many beautiful and intriguing places. His Majesty’s realm has over sixty provinces, but there is nowhere as beautiful as Shiogama in Michinoku. Thus to lavish praise on the minister’s garden, the old man began his poem with the lines: ‘Without knowing how, / suddenly I find myself / at Shiogama by the sea.’
82
The Heart of Spring
Long ago, there lived an imperial prince named Koretaka. He had a residence in Minase beyond Yamazaki, where he went every year when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. He was always accompanied by the Chief Equerry of the Right, but such a long time has passed that no one remembers his name.
While in Minase, the two hawked but without much enthusiasm. For the most part, they devoted themselves to drinking and composing poems in the Japanese style. During one hawking expedition in Katano, the cherry blossoms in bloom at the Nagisa mansion were exquisite. The hunting party dismounted under the trees and, breaking off sprigs of blossom, they placed them in their hair. Members of the high, middle and low ranks all composed poems. The equerry’s poem:
If only there were
no cherry blossoms
in this world,
what calm would reign
in the heart of spring.
Then someone else recited:
It is because
the blossoms scatter
that they are splendid.
In this world of sorrow,
what lasts for long?
The Heart of Spring
Dusk was approaching as they set out from under the trees. The prince’s attendants appeared from somewhere afield, followed by servants bearing sake. Someone among them said, ‘Let’s drink it all!’ and the whole party went looking for a good location to savour it. They came upon the River of Heaven. Th
e chief equerry was about to serve a cup of sake to His Highness, but the prince declared, ‘Before you serve me the sake, compose a poem on the topic “Coming upon a bank of the River of Heaven after hawking at Katano”.’ The chief equerry did as instructed and composed a poem, which he recited for the prince:
Having hunted all day,
let’s ask the Weaving Maid
to put us up
here upon the banks
of the River of Heaven.
The prince recited the poem aloud over and over again, but could not make a poem in reply. So Ki no Aritsune, who was also a member of the party, composed a reply in his stead:
Because the Maid waits
for her lover who comes
but once a year,
she will hardly allow
another man to stay.
The imperial party returned home then, and the prince entered the palace. The whole party drank and talked far into the night, until their host, the prince, became quite intoxicated and prepared to retire to his chambers. The moon of the eleventh night was about to disappear behind the hills, and the chief equerry recited a poem.
Dear Moon,
as we still long to gaze on you,
must you disappear so soon?
Would that the mountain rims flee
and refuse to take you in.
Then Ki no Aritsune recited a poem in His Highness’s stead:
Would that every peak
be flattened,
for if all the ridges disappeared,
I, the Moon,
would have no place to hide.
83
Toiling Through Snow
Long ago, Prince Koretaka made a regular habit of visiting his residence in Minase, and on his hawking trips there he was always accompanied by the elderly chief equerry. Once, after spending some days there, the prince returned to his palace in the capital. The equerry accompanied the prince back to his palace as usual and made preparations to go home as soon as possible, but the prince detained him with sake and the promise of a gift. The equerry, trying to discover what his true wishes might be, composed a poem for him.
I have no need to sleep on a pillow
made from bound grasses,
for unlike the autumn nights,
this one we spend together
will pass too soon.
It was the last day of spring, and in the end he attended His Highness all through the night until dawn.
The equerry always served the prince well in this way; but one day the prince unexpectedly took the tonsure and became a monk. At the New Year, the equerry went to Ono at the foot of Mount Hie to pay him his respects. Snow was piled deeply everywhere, but at last he reached the prince’s retreat and greeted him. The prince appeared bored and dejected, so the equerry stayed by his side for some time, regaling him with memories of their past. The equerry would very much have liked to stay on and serve him in this manner, but duty called, so when it grew dark, he prepared to leave. His poem:
When I forget our fate,
I wonder if it is not a dream—
for how could I have imagined
I would have to toil so far in snow
to see my beloved prince.
He returned to the capital, weeping bitterly.
84
A Son’s Wish
Long ago, there lived a man who, though not of high rank, was the son of an imperial princess who resided in Nagaoka. The man was in service at the capital, so he was unable to visit her as often as he wished. Because he was her only son, his mother loved him dearly. Around the end of the year, he received a letter from her with word that the content was urgent. Alarmed, he looked inside the envelope and found a poem.
Another year older,
I face a parting
they say no one can avoid—
how it makes me long
to see you, my beloved son.
Weeping sadly, he composed a reply:
How I wish the parting
that no one can avoid
would vanish from the world,
not least for this son, who prays
you will live a thousand years.
85
My Heart’s the Snow
Long ago, a certain man had served a prince since childhood, but one day his patron took the tonsure and became a monk. As the man held a position at the palace, he could not visit his patron often, but he never lost his sense of devotion and always went to pay his respects at New Year. All the prince’s former attendants, both laymen and clerics, would also gather then and, as it was a special day, the prince would serve sake to everyone. On one particular New Year snow fell heavily all day. Everyone became quite drunk and composed poems on the topic of being snowbound. The man’s poem:
Though I yearn to be at your side,
I cannot split myself in two;
but today my heart’s the snow
that, piling up,
keeps me here with you.
The prince was so moved by the poem that he removed his robe and gave it to the man.
86
Past Loves
When the man was still a youth, he fell in love with a girl. But, being dependent on their parents and fearing their reaction, they did not pursue it. Years later, perhaps trying to revive their love, the man composed a poem and sent it to the lady.
After many years
everyone else
forgets past loves
and goes their separate ways.
Have you done so, too?
That, however, was the end of the matter. At the time, the man and the lady were serving close to each other in the same household.
Are Those Stars on a Cloudless Night?
87
Travels in Ashiya
Long ago, the man went to live on an estate that he owned in Ashiya in Ubara County in the province of Tsu. It is the same place that appears in this old poem about Nada in Ashiya:
At Nada in Ashiya
I was too busy
burning salt fires
to put a comb in my hair,
but look – I’m here!
The man had a minor post at the palace, and his older brother was the commander of the guards, so some junior officers of the Imperial Guard came to pay him a visit. They were taking a leisurely stroll on the beach in front of the house when one of them proposed, ‘The Nunobiki Waterfall is said to be at the top of that mountain. Shall we go to see it?’ With that, the party climbed the mountain and found that it was no ordinary waterfall. The rock face was a good two hundred feet high and fifty feet wide, and the water pouring over it made it look as if its whole surface were covered in rippling white silk. A rock the size of a round straw mat jutted out from the top of the falls, and water cascaded over it in huge drops the size of chestnuts and mandarin oranges. The man invited everyone there to compose a poem on the waterfall. The first to recite a poem was the commander of the guards.
Will my time ever come?
Waiting without hope,
I wonder which is greater,
the deluge of water
or the fall of my tears.
Then the host recited a poem.
Someone is surely unstringing
myriad drops that scatter
like cascading pearls,
but my narrow sleeves
could never hold them all.
Did those present find the poem amusing? It is not clear, but at any rate they praised it highly and desisted from creating poems of their own.
It was a long way home, and twilight was coming on when they passed the residence that had belonged to Mochiyoshi, the late head of the Imperial Household. Looking ahead in the direction of their home, they could see fires on the sea for luring fish. The host recited a poem.
Are those stars on a cloudless night
or fireflies on the riverbank,
or are they the lights
of the fishermen’s fires
in the direction of our home?
&
nbsp; Then they went home. During the night, a southerly wind blew up, and the waves were very high. Early the next morning, the servant girls at the host’s house went out and gathered seaweed that had washed ashore and brought it back to the house. The woman of the house served it on a high-stemmed tray with an oak leaf placed on top. A poem was written on the leaf:
Though he treasures the seaweed
for adorning his hair,
the god of the sea
presents it to you, my lord,
with all his heart.
Was this a good poem or not for a country dweller?
88
The Rounds of the Moon
Long ago, a group of friends who were not so young any more gathered to admire the moon. One of them composed a poem:
Most of the time
I do not delight
in watching the moon,
for with each round it makes,
the older we become.
89
Which God Would They Blame?
Long ago, the man, not of low rank himself, longed for many years for a lady of a rank even higher than his own. His poem:
What a shame to die
of my unrequited love
without others knowing why.
Believing it a curse of some kind,
which god would they blame?
90
By Tomorrow …
Long ago, the man spent a long time trying to convey his feelings to a cold-hearted lady. Perhaps the lady took pity on him, for she sent word saying, ‘Well, tomorrow I can meet you, but only from behind a screen.’ The man was overjoyed, though at the same time he doubted her true feelings. He attached a splendid spray of cherry blossoms to a poem and sent it to her.