Tales of Ise: Lyrical Episodes from Tenth-Century Japan

Tales of he Lyrical Episodes from Tenth-Century Japan

Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by HELEN CRAIG McCULLOUGH

1968 Stanford University Press Stanford, California

For Bill

Stanford University Press Stanford, California © 1968 by the Board of Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University Printed in the United States of America L.C. 68-17135

Preface

The translation uses the text edited by Otsu Yiiichi and Tsukishima Hiroshi, in Sakakura Atsuyoshi et ah, eds., Ta\etori monogatari • he monogatari • Yamato monogatari (Iwanami Shoten, 1959 [NKBT Vol. 9]), a collated edition based on the best extant he monogatari text, the Sanjonishi "Teika holograph" belonging to the Tempuku line, which stems from a copy made by Fujiwara Teika in 1234 (the second year of the Tempuku era). The Sanjonishi text contains 125 episodes. Sections 126-43 m t n e NKBT edition have been assembled from variant texts as follows: 126-32, Tameuji (Oshima) text; 133-41, Koshikibu no Naishi text as preserved in the Tameuji text; 14243, Tanimori text. For further textual information, consult Appendix B. The texts of the poems in Appendix A are from Saeki Umetomo's edition of Kokinwa\ashu\ the translations are my own unless otherwise indicated. I have profited greatly from my husband's advice on substantive matters, and from the editorial assistance of Miss Betty K. Smith of Stanford University Press. I am grateful to them both. H.C.M.

Contents

Introduction

3

Japanese Court Poetry in the Ninth and Tenth Centuries, 5 China and the Japanese Poetic Tradition, 14 Tales of Ise, 55 TALES OF ISE

69

Appendixes A. Ko\inshu Poems of the Six Poetic Geniuses, 159 B. Texts of Ise Monogatari, 182

159

Notes

195

Abbreviations, 195 Worlds Cited

263

Indexes Index of First Lines, 267 General Index, 271

267

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T

HE Meiji Restoration of 1868 swept Japan into the mainstream of world history, introduced new ideas and alien traditions, and demanded reappraisal of accepted values in literature as in every other field. For more than 800 years prior to that great turning point in the national life, two literary classics had been known to every educated Japanese: Ko\inshu (Collection of Ancient and Modern Times) and he monogatari (Tales of Ise), the first an imperially commissioned poetic anthology that dates from around 905, the second a tenth-century collection of something over 100 brief stories in which poems are the central elements. Kokjnshu and he monogatari were the indispensable literary baggage of noblemen and court ladies in the latter part of the Heian period (794-1185), the inexhaustible lodes mined by generations of earnest medieval commentators, and the bibles of aspiring poets through the ages. When the great "scholars of national learning" (kp\uga\usha) rejected Chinese influence in the Tokugawa period (1600-1868), inaugurating a new era in the study of classical Japanese literature, they too directed their attention primarily to these works, together with an eighthcentury poetic anthology, Man'yoshu (Collection for Ten Thousand Generations), and a brilliant eleventh-century novel, Genji monogatari (The Tale of Genji).

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Westerners have come to know The Tale of Genji through Arthur Waley's translation. French versions of Ko\inshu poems and excellent English translations of selected poems from Man ydshu have also been available for some years, and the publication of Robert H. Brower and Earl Miner's Japanese Court Poetry has given foreign readers a new understanding and appreciation of the special social contexts, intellectual and emotional values and attitudes, native and Chinese traditions, and poetic techniques that brought forth the poems preserved in the two great anthologies. Through the present translation of Ise monogatari, Westerners may become acquainted with a fourth major resource of the classical literary tradition.1 One can enjoy Tales of Ise without a specialized knowledge of classical Japanese poetry or its social milieu, especially if one has read The Tale of Genji, which describes Japanese court society at about the time when Tales of Ise assumed its present form, and which shows very clearly the central role assigned to poetry in that society. As a work of literature, however, Tales of Ise is less able than The Tale of Genji to stand on its own in a foreign environment. Its characters are dim, elusive figures. Its prose passages, re- mote indeed from Genji'% exquisite intricacies, are designed primarily to provide settings for the poems—to serve as black velvet cushions against which the gems can flash and glow. Japanese connoisseurs admire its simple, restrained ( style, which they find more subtle and sophisticated than | elaborate description, but in English the velvet wears thin; the language tends to be flat and banal. And the jewels themselves look a bit dull. Tales of Ise has traditionally been esteemed as a handbook for poets, one that demonstrates better than any other the attitudes and occasions that

should inspire poetry, and the manner in which poems should be written. Yet these famous verses, the heart of the work, sound distressingly trivial in translation. The reader may find it useful, therefore, to learn something about the origins of classical Japanese poetry and about its technical complexities, conventions, standards, and self-imposed limitations. This can best be done by consulting Brower and Miner's invaluable study, but minimal guidelines are provided in the following pages, which also deal with questions pertinent to Tales of Ise alone—its title, authorship, date, structure, and the like—and with Ariwara Narihira, the great ninth-century poet whose shadow hovers over these pages.

1

Notes will be found at the back of the book, beginning on p. 196.

4

JAPANESE COURT POETRY IN T H E N I N T H AND T E N T H CENTURIES

Tales of Ise is anonymous and of uncertain date, and so are a majority of its poems, but it is probably safe to assume that few, if any, of the poems are more recent than 950, and that most of them were written during the ninth century.2 The poems coincide roughly in period, therefore, with those in the first imperial anthology of Japanese poetry, Ko\inshu, or Collection of Ancient and Modern Times, in whose title "ancient times" means essentially the early decades of the ninth century. There are, moreover, basic similarities of theme, technique, and tone between the two collections, as well as a partial duplication of content. The kinds of poems considered worthy of an imperial anthology were also the kinds admired by the unknown author or authors of Ise monogatari, and they represent the practice and taste of contemporary court society. They were indeed so peculiarly a product of that society that they cannot 5

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be discussed without reference to it. Let us consider, for example, the poetic criteria articulated by Ki no Tsurayuki (884-946), the principal literary critic of his day, whose preface to Ko\inshu systematized and formalized existing practice. Brower and Miner say of Tsurayuki:

The rule of taste governed every aspect of a nobleman's life—the manner in which he performed his official functions, his choice of avocations and amusements, his clothing and domestic arrangements, his social relationships, and his attitude toward nature. The importance of the rule led to anxious deliberation, for the insecure, in such apparently trivial matters as choosing between lavender letter paper and blue, because a false step might expose the offender to mortifying censure. Letter writing was a major preoccupation of the society; by correspondence courtiers and ladies kept in touch with friends and relatives and conducted the amorous intrigues to which much of their leisure was devoted. Paper and handwriting were subjected to highly critical scrutiny. The author of The Gossamer Years, a tenth-century court lady's diary, says huffily of a message from an admirer, "The paper was rather unbecoming for such an occasion, I thought, and the handwriting was astonishingly bad. Having heard that he was an accomplished penman, I wondered indeed whether he might not have had someone else write it."5 The handwriting of a cultivated person was expected to reflect impeccable taste— elegance, sophisticated simplicity, and perfect balance. Readers of The Tale of Genji will recall similar displays of fastidiousness, especially in matters having to do with personal attire. Descriptions and appraisals of court ladies' toilettes also account for much of the bulk of other Heian literary works, including the diary of Genfis author, Murasaki Shikibu. The humiliation of one feckless butterfly, transfixed for posterity by Murasaki's sharp eye, is a famous example. "That day," Murasaki wrote, "all the ladies dressed with the utmost magnificence. One however was guilty of a lapse of taste in the color combination at her wrist, and all the great nobles and other courtiers no-

The central value in Tsurayuki's poetic ideal... was a strong sense of decorous elegance which involved an emphasis on style, a proper poetic diction, an accepted range of forms and themes, and virtuosity. A good poem was one that responded to given situations with purity of diction and in ways sanctioned by tradition, but one that also possessed a certain originality of treatment. There was a tendency to view materials, subjects, and decorum as aspects of diction, and attitude, technique, and themes as aspects of tone. Such a distinction, reflected in the Preface to the Kolynshu by the terms \otoba, "diction," and ^fo\oro, "spirit," was to remain throughout the tradition as the central concept of the Japanese poetic.3 The phrase "decorous elegance" strikes close to the essence not only of Tsurayuki's poetic, but also of the cultural milieu from which the poetic emerged; the words carry the scent of the hothouse atmosphere in which aristocratic Heian poets breathed and worked. This central quality in Heian culture, which Sir George Sansom has called "the rule of taste,"4 resulted from the interaction between a conscious emphasis on sobriety, restraint, and formality, and a somewhat naive and romantic emotionalism and love of nature, reinforced by a haunting sense of the transience of worldly things, and accompanied by a stubborn predilection for the beautiful, the decorative, and the opulent. The leaders of this little band of aesthetes walked the tightrope of sensibility with sure-footed artistry, though their less gifted followers lived in constant danger of a tumble into sentimentality. 6

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ticed it when she cleared away the things from the imperial presence It was nothing very serious, but one shade looked a bit pale."6 Especially important to the content and tone of court poetry was the rule of taste as it applied to the natural world. The lives and interests of the nobility centered on the imperial city of Heian. To be forced to reside in the provinces was to be exiled; long journeys were undertaken with extreme reluctance, attended by timorous (if justified) misgivings about the dangers of the road, and lamented in floods of plaintively nostalgic poems. But the incomparable beauty of Japan's mountains and streams persuaded these city dwellers to build suburban villas and hunting lodges, and to venture on pilgrimages to nearby shrines and temples. No pastime was considered more elegant, and none was more typical of the age, than a brief excursion into the countryside, where, with a few companions, a gentleman sipped wine and composed verses inspired by the ever-changing face of nature. In the capital itself, every aspect of nature could be observed in the landscape gardens of the great mansions, whose lakes, streams, hills, rocks, and plants were designed with infinite pains to suggest well-known scenic places and to appear to advantage at different seasons of the year. There one might watch the nocturnal voyaging of the harvest moon, select a single perfect chrysanthemum to accompany a gift, or, seated alone of a wintry morning, indulge in elegant musings on the resemblance between plum blossoms and snow. No well-bred person remained unmoved in the presence of nature, and few aristocrats allowed their reactions to pass unrecorded in verse. A nature poem was expected to demonstrate a capacity for close observation, a keen appreciation of beauty, and, most important, a sensitivity to the

poignancy inherent in the relationship between beauty, ephemerality, and the human condition. On viewing a cherry tree in full bloom, someone like Prince Genji, the idealized hero of The Tale of Genji, was likely to write of the evanescence of the blossoms, or to reflect that although the tree would bloom again, man's own springtime comes but once. In the cicada's papery husk and the withering plumes of summer grasses, Heian poets recognized the tyranny of time; and nature's more permanent aspects inspired them to melancholy reflections on the brevity of human existence and the uncertainties besetting man's troubled passage through the world. A courtier responded, then, to the first green of spring, to snowfall, mist, and rain, to the scattering of blossoms. And the tone of the response was the tone of Heian society. Its basis was a love of beauty so sophisticated, so highly refined, that it permitted no careless outpouring of spontaneous feeling. Emotion was conveyed through understatement and veiled allusion, through the subtle, half-spoken evocation of a mood; it was contained within channels of formality and propriety and expressed with decorous elegance. The cultivated man was expected to display equal taste and sensitivity in his relations with others. He conducted affairs of the heart with delicate solicitude for the lady's feelings, as when Prince Genji, blundering into a relationship with an awkward, red-nosed princess, made himself permanently responsible for her happiness because it was clear that she would never attract another suitor.7 In other social relationships as well, the requisites were tact, a ready wit, and discernment—the ability to grasp the nuances of a situation and respond appropriately, preferably in verse. Poetry concerned with human relations reflects these so-

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cial requirements, and so does most nature poetry, because natural phenomena are almost invariably presented in terms of their effect on man in a specific situation with social connotations. Heian poems are occasional pieces, instruments of social intercourse, and much of their interest derives from the circumstances of their composition. How well has the poet met the implicit challenge ? How skillfully has he shown his mastery of the rule of taste ? Ko\tnshu and Tales of he both contain the following poem by Ariwara Narihira (KKS 884, IM 82):

sat far into the night, gazing at the moon. When at last the moon sinks toward the hills and the prince prepares to retire, Narihira detains him with the poem Akana\u ni, a graceful, compressed allegorical expression of sentiments that in another society might be spelled out at tedious length: "Today has been a rare experience. You have allowed us to accompany you to the fields; you have entertained us most graciously at dinner. We shall never forget the cherry blossoms at Nagisa, the poems on the return journey, or the stories this evening as the moon climbed the skies. It is hard indeed that such a day in such company must end. Will you not linger with us a while ? Life with its precious moments passes as swiftly as the moon crosses the heavens; let us enjoy it while we may." In the eyes of Japanese critics, A\ana\u ni succeeds because it combines grace, sensitivity, and wit in a moving expression of the dominant aesthetic ideal of the age, the blend of elegance and pathos known as mono no aware. The same is thought to be true, in varying degree, of the other poems in he monogatari—all are model responses to social situations, evoking mono no aware, the pathos of life, by means of apt metaphors, elegant diction, and images rich in literary connotations. The Western reader who knows something of Japanese classical literature may, however, question the claim of a poem like A\ana\u ni to wit, originality, or genuine emotion. The Heian Japanese very early abandoned the freedom and experimentation of the Man'yoshu period and limited themselves to a 31-syllable, 5-line verse form and a rigidly restricted range of topics, techniques, vocabulary, and images. The rules of the game left scant room for what we should regard as creative expression. Tsurayuki and his

Akanaku ni Madaki mo tsuki no Kakururu ka Yama no ha nigete Irezu mo aranan.

Must the moon disappear In such haste, Leaving us still unsatisfied ? Would that the mountain rim might flee And refuse to receive her.

It is apparent, of course, that Narihira and others have been watching the moon, and that they regret its setting. The ritual of gazing at the moon has the prestige of Chinese precedent, familiar from innumerable poems and paintings, and is thus immediately classifiable as a gentleman's pursuit. The poet also demonstrates the requisite feeling for the impermanence of beauty. But it is the apt response to specific circumstances that makes the poem truly elegant. To appreciate the response, we need the background provided by Tales of he's prose context, which reveals that the imperial prince Koretaka, off on a hunting trip with a group of attendants, has spent most of a long spring day under blossoming cherry trees, sipping wine and chanting verses. At the prince's villa, the company has 10

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colleagues dictated the acceptable themes: love, nature, travel, sorrow, happy events, and a few others. These are, to be sure, universal poetic staples, but nevertheless the list represents a rejection of such topics as poverty, warfare, and the life of the lower classes, which had been exploited in earlier periods but were now stigmatized as vulgar, distressing, and violent. Similarly, the Ko\inshu arbiters of taste prescribed a limited range of poetic techniques, which were to grow wearisomely familiar with the passage of time. One of the most important was the pivot word, or \a\e\otoba, so called because the poet used it as a pivot between two series of sounds with "overlapping syntactical and semantic patterns."8 In a rough English approximation, Goldilocks might have said, after inspecting her bedroom, "I have seen a bearly credible sight." Another standard technique was the associative word, or engo, "a word that has or creates an 'association' with a preceding word or situation, often bringing out an additional dimension of meaning."9 There is a simple example in Tales of Ise (28):

A somewhat less common device, used primarily for formal occasions, was the ma\ura \otoba (pillow word), or fixed epithet, normally five syllables long: thus, chihayaburu, "mighty," an epithet for "god." New makura kotoba had been created freely in the preceding literary period, but the stock remained virtually stationary during Heian times, and in many cases the original meaning was only vaguely surmised. Such sonorous, majestic words were thought to invest a poem with an aura of dignity and formality. Similar to the pillow word, but considerably more flexible, was the jo (preface), or introductory statement, often untranslatable, which was joined to "the basic 'statement' of the p o e m . . . by word play, by similarity of sound, or by an implied metaphorical relationship."10 In the following travel poem from Tales of Ise (9), the preface is related to its statement by an identity of sounds {utsu/utsutsu). The first two lines serve merely to introduce utsutsu ("reality," "one's waking moments") and to furnish an oblique indication of the poet's whereabouts:

Nadote kaku Au go katami ni Nariniken Mizu morasaji to Musubishi mono o.

Why is it now Impossible for us to meet— We who were bound together Like the strands of a close-woven basket Impermeable to water.

The engo is musubishi, a form of musubu, "to bind together," which is homophonous with musubu, "to scoop up water with the hands"; the association is with mizu, "water," in line 4. 12

Suruga naru Utsu no yamabe no Utsutsu ni mo Yume ni mo hito ni Awanu narikeri.

Beside Mount Utsu In Suruga I can see you Neither waking Nor, alas, even in my dreams.

Diction, imagery, allegory, metaphor, and simile offered certain possibilities for freshness and variety, but only about 2,000 words and a prescribed list of images were acceptable, and metaphors tended to conform to predictable patterns. In the poem below (IM 10), the reader knows at once that someone is asking a man to marry a girl: 13

Introduction Miyoshino no Tanomu no kari mo Hitaburu ni Kimi ga kata ni zo Yoru to naku naru.

The wild goose that shelters On Miyoshino's fields Cries that it looks In your direction And in no other.

By the end of the classical period, the wild goose had appeared many times in the role of a young girl, and she was a rather tired old bird. In the ninth century, however, the wild goose was young and the full potentialities of kakekotoba and engo were yet to be tapped. Narihira stands on the threshold of the classical tradition; his moon poem is no mere intellectual exercise sustained by shopworn verbal tricks, no lace curtain mono no aware, but the real thing. And one can say the same, with certain reservations, of other poems in Tales of Ise. But even though some he poets may have been innovators who helped to shape the classical tradition, are not poems like A\ana\u ni little more than adaptations of Chinese prototypes ? The question raises still others. How did the ninth-century Japanese develop the set of values symbolized by the phrase mono no aware ? What accounts for the peculiarly social role of their poetry, and for the importance of that role ? How original is even the best Japanese court poetry ? Without some notion of the extent of Chinese influence in all these matters, one can neither appraise the poetry in Tales of Ise nor properly understand the cultural milieu from which it emerged. CHINA AND T H E JAPANESE POETIC TRADITION

Tales of Ise, like all recorded Japanese literature of its day, is a product of court society, written by and for members 14

Introduction of a tiny elite of perhaps a thousand persons, or about onetenth of one per cent of the total population. And it owes its place in literary history to a rather peculiar feature of that society—the importance attached to the composition and recitation of the 31-syllable classical verse known as the wa\a, or "Japanese poem." To understand how poetry came to occupy a central position in the cultural life of the Japanese aristocracy, one must look for a moment at the source of Japan's higher civilization, China—and particularly at the great T'ang empire (618-906), upon whose cultural riches the Japanese drew with insatiable ardor and lasting effect during the seventh, eighth, and early ninth centuries. The Confucian Ideal. Around the beginning of the seventh century, when large-scale Japanese borrowing began, Chinese civilization was already 2,000 years old. Confucius had died a millennium earlier. One great empire, the Han (206 B.C.-A.D. 220), had risen and perished; and a second, the T'ang, was entering its glorious career after the 350year interlude of political disunity known as the Six Dynasties period (ca. 222-ca. 589), during which barbarian states had occupied the ancient seat of civilization in the north, and the center of Chinese culture had shifted to the south. During the Han dynasty, there had evolved a concept of government that was basically to affect the development of Chinese literature, and thus of Japanese literature as well. It postulated the necessity of a specially trained and specially selected governing class, and it identified that class with the Confucian literati, who were thought to be the "cultivated men" envisioned in the famous essay known as "The Great Learning."11 The nature of the education and personal traits desirable in such scholar-bureaucrats was still somewhat nebulous in Han times, but tradition and 15

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the operation of the T'ang civil service examination system had prescribed their essential attributes fairly clearly by the period with which we are concerned. The ideal product of the T'ang examination system was a man who had devoted years to studying the lessons of the past, as recorded in official histories and the teachings of the philosophers; who applied as an official the knowledge and wisdom thus acquired; and who used his leisure hours to "cultivate his person" for the good of the state. He aspired to skill in calligraphy, for example, because he and his peers felt that handwriting was an index of character— only the serenity and confidence born of uprightness and wisdom could produce brush strokes that combined strength with elegance, and firmness with sensitivity and moderation. He was a good amateur painter, because he hoped to enrich his spirit and discipline his mind by contemplating the mysteries of nature and by mastering the exacting materials, the silk and brush, that permitted no hesitancy, no false starts or erasures. (He did not attempt to become more than an amateur, because he regarded the professional painter as an artisan.) He performed and listened to improving music, which by its purity, restraint, and classic balance promoted qualities of gravity and decorum. Popular music he regarded as subversive of man's higher instincts. Taste in literature was governed by similar considerations. The T'ang man of letters ignored or attacked works of fiction because he considered them tissues of lies and suspected them of undermining the qualities of sincerity, honor, nobility, and decorum that had to be cultivated, particularly among the ruling elite, if the nation were to be properly ordered. Classical poetry he esteemed as the highest form of literature. There could be no more dignified

and wholesome employment of one's free hours than savoring the poems of past generations and composing what one hoped might be considered worthy successors. To a Confucian gentleman, composing poetry, like painting and playing music, was a form of self-discipline and self-improvement. He did not simply sit down and toss off a lover's lament or an effusion on the beauties of nature. He ordered his thoughts coolly and soberly. He considered the philosophical implications of his theme. Summoning the wraiths of earlier poems on similar topics, he added subtle overtones for the perceptive reader by borrowing a pair of adjectives, a turn of speech, or an allusion. And finally, with due attention to complicated rules of prosody, he produced a few choice lines. The Confucian value system, in short, assigned to poetry a role that was political, moral, and social; poetry was a useful adjunct to government because it improved the quality of the ruling class. Official sponsorship at the highest level is the basic reason for the predominant place of poetry in the literary traditions of China and Japan. In both countries it was taken for granted that a cultivated man would compose poems; poetry writing was not only an approved but a compulsory avocation. In Japan, where imported values faced persistent indigenous challenges, and also in China, especially during periods of political turmoil, the moral and political benefits to be derived from versification sometimes were at best perfunctorily recognized. Confucian sponsorship guaranteed poetry respectability and a continuing social role, but did not prevent it from developing along lines that were often notably not Confucian. This was particularly true in China during the Six Dynasties period, whose poetic practice was admired and imitated by Heian courtiers.

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Six Dynasties Poetry. The poetic form that had claimed the attention of Han bureaucrats wascthe fu (sometimes called prose poem), a literary piece in which the author exhausted his powers of observation and imagination on some topic, producing a work replete with parallelism, difficult characters, recondite allusions, and unusual words and phrases drawn from the treasure house of the Chinese language. Its composition was an intellectual exercise, a suitable pastime for a Confucian gentleman. When the Han dynasty collapsed early in the third century, Confucianism was discredited. Political and social upheaval led to a resurgence of Taoism, both philosophical and popular, a new interest in Buddhism, and an antisocial, escapist, hedonistic spirit of rebellion against Confucian dogma. Some scholar-intellectuals turned to rival systems of thought; others retreated to hermitages; others, fleeing south with the great aristocratic families, tried to perform their accustomed roles in the new southern states, where the shibboleths of Confucianism were acknowledged, but where the social and political atmosphere was distinctly uncongenial to the Confucian ethic. For a career at a southern court, and especially for survival during the violent transitions between ruling houses, the most useful qualities were not soberness, probity, and a sound grounding in the classics, but resourcefulness, flexibility, a not overscrupulous sense of honor, and the ability to adapt to the requirements of a pleasure-seeking, increasingly decadent court society. Personally insecure, politically impotent, and infected by the restless spirit of the times, the uprooted aristocrats spent their energies, their ingenuity, and their considerable wealth on the construction and embellishment of costly palaces and villas, on elaborate entertainments, on amorous dalliance, and on an incessant

search for amusement. Enchanted by the lush scenery of the south (which was inspiring other emigres to create China's first true nature poetry and landscape painting), they reproduced the beauty of rivers, lakes, and mountains in the grounds of their elegant residences; and there they and their literati guests whiled away the nights with dancing girls, wine, and poetry. For such occasions the Han-style fu was inappropriate. It was not dropped altogether, but a new verse form met the needs of a new day—'the shih, thenceforth the classic Chinese poetic form. The shih developed during the Six Dynasties period into a highly formal medium characterized by lines of five or seven characters (rarely, four), parallelism, end rhyme, and a complex pattern of internal tone harmony. By the end of the period the number of lines, originally rather considerable, had diminished to eight, six, or four—convenient lengths for impromptu versifying. In the sixth century most of the shih being written in south China12 were nature poems. Their subjects were determined by the surroundings at alfresco nocturnal banquets (moonlight on the lake, the stars, clouds passing in front of the moon), by the occasion (the annual chrysanthemum banquet or a cherry blossom party), or by conditions set by a host, who might call on guests to celebrate prominent features of his garden, to compose poems on topics suggested by lines from old poems, or to match rhymes with a designated verse. At one gathering of which an account has been preserved, those present were required to write 20-line poems on the theme of the Weaver Maid and the Herdsman, using identical rhyming characters and devoting four lines to each of five designated subordinate topics.13 The object was always to produce, with the greatest possible speed and wit, an elegantly allusive verse with

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aristocratic polish, an aura of opulent beauty, and a melodious tonal pattern. A man with a reliable memory could achieve social success by simply stringing together impressive words or phrases from earlier poems, with little or no independent contribution. These circumstances did not invite originality or profundity, and many poems, such as the one below on the topic "Snow,"14 were almost totally devoid of content:

opment of mono no aware as a uniquely Japanese aesthetic ideal. The most important similarities were that the upper strata in both societies consisted of a hereditary aristocracy of wealthy dilettantes and their satellites, and that accidents of history, climate, and topography made the interests and pastimes of the one congenial to the other. The migration to the mild and beautiful south, the demoralizing troubles of the age, and the temporary discomfiture of Confucianism made the Chinese nobility much more receptive than before to the philosophies of Taoism and Buddhism (both of which preached man's oneness with nature), and increased their interest in their physical surroundings. Their example reached Japan only secondhand, by way of T'ang, but it carried the prestige of Chinese origin and it came to a land where similar interests had existed for many centuries. Shinto rituals, Manyoshu poems, early chronicles, and other sources attest unmistakably to the antiquity and strength of the Japanese people's love for their hills and waters. So the Heian courtiers, welcoming new and more sophisticated ways of expressing old commitments, designed landscape gardens of their own, celebrated the blooming of the chrysanthemums with annual court ceremonies, and made a ritual of gazing at the moon. And at court functions and private gatherings, they too composed poems on man's relationship to nature, and at times degraded poetry to the status of a game. As we have seen, Confucian tradition was largely responsible for the important social role assigned to poetry at the Six Dynasties courts, and for the poets' imitativeness, conservatism, intellectualism, preciosity, and concern with style. One could point to many other areas of the society where Confucianism made its presence felt. But it is probably right to say that the influence of Confucianism was

Flying salt mingles with dancing butterflies, Falling flowers whirl onto a powder box, Powder from a box whirls amid falling flowers, Dancing butterflies mingle with flying salt. Few scholars today would disagree with a critic in the Sui dynasty (ca. 581-618) who attacked late Six Dynasties poetry as a shallow and artificial "literature of moonlight and dew," and demanded a restoration of the Han balance between form and content. Similar strictures abound in Chinese literary criticism. But it would be a mistake to underestimate the historical importance of the Six Dynasties poets, for they developed the technical conventions observed by the far greater poets of T'ang, they firmly established the social role of poetry in China, they bequeathed a heritage of traditionalism and sophisticated elegance that enriched Chinese poetry in its great periods and weakened it in periods of decline, and they determined the basic direction followed by Japanese court poetry for a thousand years. Certain resemblances between Six Dynasties China and Heian Japan suggest a reason for the persistence of Six Dynasties literary practices in Japan; certain differences between the two societies may help to account for the devel20

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significantly stronger in Heian Japan. To be sure, Heian Japan was not a Confucian society in the sense that Han, or T'ang, was Confucian. There was far too much hereditary privilege, too much frivolity, and too little attention to the serious business of government and to public and private morality. The immediate Chinese example was, however, that of T'ang, and Confucian tradition did impose certain standards of decorum and formality that were absent at the Six Dynasties courts. Heian society was hedonistic but not debauched, extravagant but not unrestrained. Excess of any kind was vulgar, and vulgarity was the unpardonable sin. Confucian influence thus helps to account for the restraint, refinement, and elegance of Heian court life and Heian court poetry—and also, it must be added, for the tyranny of tradition, the concern with form at the expense of content, and the bloodless quality of the typical Heian courtier as he appears in literature, all graceful poses, fine robes, and fashionable airs. Can we say, then, that the ideal of mono no aware resulted from the imposition of Six Dynasties hedonism and T'ang Confucianism upon an indigenous aristocratic social structure and an ingrained love of beauty ? Not quite, for the predominance of Buddhism in China between the midfourth and late eighth centuries had consequences important to Heian culture. Buddhism entered China from India around the beginning of the Christian era, but its significant impact came only with the disintegration of the Han social fabric. We have observed that during the Six Dynasties period its teachings, like those of Taoism, promoted the dilettantish, hedonistic tendencies of the southern ruling class by encouraging a repudiation of social responsibilities, a new feeling of identification with nature, and a sense of the

vanity of worldly things. At the same time, there was a great wave of religious fervor—eager acceptance of the new religion in the highest circles, and active private and official patronage with strong economic support, both in the south and in the barbarian capitals of the north—and the flood did not ebb until the ninth century, 200 years after the beginning of Japan's major period of borrowing. Intellectuals, men who in another day would have become Confucian scholar-bureaucrats, took the tonsure and dedicated their lives to translating and elucidating the scriptures. Artists, architects, and artisans erected soaring pagodas and great halls filled with gilt-bronze statues donated by the pious. Monasteries flourished; images were carved in remote cliffs and caves. For China such changes were unprecedented. Never before in recorded history had the ancient center of East Asian civilization been affected so profoundly by an alien influence. And when Buddhism reached Japan, a country whose inhabitants had not advanced very far beyond the neolithic stage, the impact was infinitely greater. Entering by way of Korea during the sixth century, the religion was identified at once with the continental Chinese culture that the Japanese were seeking with increasing avidity. Its appeal was twofold. First, it seemed inseparably linked to the material aspects of Chinese civilization: when through Korea, and later directly from China, the Japanese imported paintings, sculpture, new styles of architecture, and the products of continental technology, they brought in Buddhism too. And second, it offered an alluring alternative to the amorphous, naive Shinto cults, although the highly sophisticated nature of that alternative was not immediately recognized. To dazzled members of the upper classes, encountering for the first time the awe-inspiring statues

22

23

Introduction and marvelously wrought hand bells and altar vessels, the chanting high priests in their gorgeous vestments, and the masked dancers treading stately measures while exotic instruments skirled and trilled, Buddhism seemed to be, and was valued as, a new and potent form of magic. Closer acquaintance brought a slowly maturing comprehension of the intellectual message of Buddhism, but it is probably fair to say that for many Japanese the basic attractions of the Indian religion remained essentially what they had been at the beginning. In the Heian period, the great Buddhist ceremonies that studded the court's calendar had two roles. They protected the state against natural calamities, sickness, foreign invasion, and strange celestial phenomena, and they functioned as elaborate entertainments, mounted with practiced showmanship and thoroughly enjoyed by participants and spectators.15 Privately commissioned rituals, sometimes only slightly less lavish and impressive, served similar purposes for members of the nobility, rescuing them from boredom and helping them to marry well, bear their children safely, and thwart bodily ills. There were of course many serious and devout believers, some with an extensive knowledge of metaphysical subtleties ; and even the most indolent and worldly of their contemporaries were affected in conduct and attitude by certain easily apprehensible Buddhist notions that formed part of every aristocrat's intellectual equipment. One of these articles of faith was the belief in rebirth in Amida Buddha's paradise, attested in innumerable sources of the period; another was the idea of karma—the assumption that a man's actions in one life determine his fate in the next— which is a major theme in The Tale of Genji. And still another was the insistence on the transience of worldly 24

Introduction things, a point of view that found expression in almost every aspect of Heian life. In most respects Heian Buddhism did not differ strikingly from the Buddhism of the Six Dynasties and early T'ang, but one does find in it an unusual preoccupation with the concept of impermanence in nature and in human affairs, an idiosyncrasy that cannot be explained satisfactorily, though one notes that it fits the characteristic pattern of Japanese intellectual history, in which emotional reasoning has consistently been preferred to speculative thought. It is, I think, this trait, in combination with the elements discussed earlier, that makes Heian culture unique and gives Japanese court poetry its special quality. As Brower and Miner say, time "is perhaps the element that touches the Japanese sensibility most deeply and in the most various ways."16 In Tales of he, as in many other works of Japanese literature, the tyranny of time is a recurrent theme. Chinese Influence in the Early Heian Period. How did Chinese influence modify Japanese poetic practice ? More specifically, how did it affect the poetry in Ise monogatari? To what extent are the Ise poems products of individual creativity, imitations of earlier native traditions, or merely clever adaptations of foreign models ? If we attempt to find answers by inspecting waka produced on public occasions during the opening decades of the Heian period, we shall be disappointed. There are, incredibly, none to inspect, for the public events of early Heian inspired only halting effusions in Chinese. Nothing could speak more eloquently of the nature and extent of Chinese influence at the beginning of the ninth century. It is often said that the eighth century was Japan's great period of Sinicization, and it is true that eighth-century sovereigns and their ministers labored diligently, and with re25

Introduction markable results, to create at Nara a small-scale replica of the imperial Chinese capital at Ch'ang-an. But much of the change was only external. Political and economic evidence, indigenous myths and attitudes embedded in the official eighth-century histories, and the very existence of Man'yoshu all reveal stubborn native resistance to alien institutions and ideas. By the early ninth century, however, 200 years of assiduous borrowing and assimilation had produced a court society approximating the ideal aspired to by Nara emperors. The rulers in the new capital at Heian (Kyoto) laid out their city according to the Chinese checkerboard pattern, devised impressive Chinese names for their palace gates, and constructed a vermilion Chinese-style hall of state with emerald-blue roof tiles. In 818 and 820, Chinese dress and rules of etiquette were prescribed for both ordinary and ceremonial occasions. Chinese delicacies were served at state and private banquets. The annual ceremonial observances around which court life revolved followed T'ang precedents. A T'ang-style bureaucracy operated a T'angstyle tax system. And Chinese ideas, values, and attitudes shaped the character of court life in innumerable ways. In that environment the Chinese writing system, Chinese learning, and Chinese belles lettres encountered little opposition. Japanese poetry disappeared from public life. Though waka were still written, they became chiefly instruments of courtship; their function was social but private. No Japanese poems were demanded by early Heian emperors at their -court banquets, and none are preserved in their official records. The rather nervous efforts of Japanese courtiers to compose in Chinese, which had begun in the seventh century, received fresh encouragement from sovereigns like Em26

Introduction peror Saga (r. 809-23), an ardent Sinophile and tireless versifier who must have terrorized inferior linguists with his constant requests for Chinese poems during palace functions and imperial excursions. The results are partially preserved in four anthologies, one dating from the Nara period and the others (all imperially commissioned) from the first three decades of the ninth century. The collections are valuable not so much for their literary appeal, which is limited, as for what they reveal about the events and motivations that inspired their contents. They show clearly that almost all shih were composed for banquets, excursions, festivals, funerals, and other public and social functions. Recitations of Chinese poems formed part of the regular proceedings at several annual court ceremonies (the literary banquet, the spring and fall festivals in honor of Confucius, the chrysanthemum banquet, etc.); they contributed to the success of important special events, such as the banquets held after lectures on the Chinese classics and histories; and they lent an agreeable tone of sophistication to informal occasions. Such literary activity was satisfyingly elevated and continental, but it may be doubted that Emperor Saga and other rulers could have counted on quite the same degree of cooperation had the poets' rewards been purely social. It is significant that the great period of Chinese studies and Chinese literary composition in Heian came around 81025, when former political and military threats had been dissipated, the government's financial situation was stable, and a single aristocratic house, the Fujiwara, had not yet secured control of the machinery of state. During those years the perennially powerless emperors, able for once to exercise a certain amount of independent authority, utilized the prestige of China to combat hereditary privilege. 27

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Introduction

It was certain that lineage would continue to be the major qualification for public office, but the emperors hoped to weaken rival houses by emphasizing the necessity of a Confucian education for bureaucrats. Their ministers, they announced, would be chosen at least partly on the basis of merit. The national university, a T'ang-style institution established in the Nara period to train future officials, consequently took on an importance that it retained until the rise of the Fujiwara (ca. 850) made its degrees worthless as instruments of political advancement. The principles, structure, and curriculum of the university followed the T'ang pattern, with the significant exception that enrollment was open only to the hereditary nobility. As in T'ang, the basic curriculum included literature whose primary appeal was stylistic. The most important literary text assigned to students was the Wen hsiian (Literary Selections), a voluminous anthology of stylistic masterpieces compiled by a late Six Dynasties prince. This work, the most famous Chinese anthology and the largest compendium of pre-T'ang prose and poetry, was immensely influential at the early Heian court, where special Wen hsiian banquets and lectures were held. Some earnest noblemen memorized all of its 30 chapters, presumably in preparation for their examinations, which required the composition of a poem in the classical Chinese style. During the few decades before the Fujiwara ascendancy, the examinations conducted by the Ministry of Ceremonial were taken with the utmost seriousness. They were staged with great formality, sometimes in the presence of the emperor himself, and a brilliant performance meant social recognition that could have important political consequences.17 It was in this atmosphere that ambitious noblemen composed their Chinese poems, first as students practicing for the examinations, and later as officials whose careers could

be affected by their performances. With so much at stake, and in view of the practical problems involved, it is not surprising that their exercises were a bit timid. Fortunately, originality was not expected of them. Theirs was scissorsand-paste composition—not merely influenced by Chinese poems, but rather directly imitating and unabashedly plagiarizing them. Given a specific topic (and nearly all poems were composed under such circumstances; they were not spontaneous emotional reactions to stimuli in the poets' lives), a courtier merely consulted a handy Chinese anthology, or, even better, a collection of famous lines on specific topics, and borrowed suitable words and phrases, substituting Japanese place names and adding a few other naturalizing touches. Early Heian libraries contained, in addition to the Wen hsiian, a fairly considerable number of collections and source books dating from the Six Dynasties period to mid-T'ang. Their owners regarded them not as works of literature to be appraised on the basis of their aesthetic merits, but as stockpiles of uniform value and utility, and they dipped with cheerful eclecticism into first one and then another as they cooked up "their chowders, their hodgepodges of Chinese poetry."18 To trace the influence of a single Chinese poet, a single school of poetry, or even a single era, on any early Heian poem is an almost hopeless task.19 But one can say that the artificiality, imitativeness, preoccupation with form, and purely public orientation of Japanese shih reflect tastes and attitudes far more characteristic of Six Dynasties courtiers than of important T'ang poets like Li Po and Tu Fu. The early Heian Japanese were not unacquainted with Li Po (701-62) and Tu Fu (712-70), but they seem to have found it difficult to understand them and the themes they used (many of which were alien to Japanese experience), and to have preferred to concentrate on the kind of poetry de-

28

29

Introduction

Introduction

manded of examination candidates—i.e., public poetry of the Six Dynasties variety. Those who ventured further afield were usually content to imitate private Six Dynasties poems praising nature or commemorating festive events among the nobility, or to compose "Poems on Things," a category of Six Dynasties and T'ang verse that dealt with specific topics suggested by the life of the upper classes: a bird, an insect, or a plant in a landscape garden; the sun, the moon, rain, or snow as observed from a garden; an art object, an article ofiurniture, or a court beauty. ( The Resurgence of the Wa\a. The Heian court's rabidly Sinophile phase was short-lived. By the fourth decade of the ninth century, Emperor Saga was no longer on the throne, Chinese studies and the university were declining as Fujiwara fortunes rose, and contact with the waning T'ang empire was diminishing. The Japanese were both assimilating Chinese cultural values and creating or reasserting native ones to shape the complex, sophisticated culture mirrored in Kokjnshu, Tales of Ise, and The Tale of Genji. One symptom of change was the appearance of the delicate, decorative yamatoe, or Japanese picture, and its acceptance as an art form equal in dignity to the Chinese landscape painting. Another was the derivation from Chinese characters of simple syllabaries (\ana) for use in writing Japanese. For official histories, government documents, petitions to the buddhas, and court nobles' diaries, the Chinese language (or an approximation thereof) prevailed; but, from the ninth century on, ladies and other ignorant or lazy persons could set down their thoughts, feelings, and imaginings in Japanese. This development not only made possible such distinguished prose works as The Tale of Genji, The Gossamer Years, and Sei Shonagon's Pillow Boo\, but also gave powerful impetus to the revival of Japa-

nese poetry. (One is much more likely to send along a poem with a gift, message, or love letter if one is not obliged to go to the shelf for dictionaries and reference works, seek out 31 Chinese characters that might be used as phonetic symbols, consider the advantages of inserting certain characters for their semantic value, and trust that the recipient will be able to muster the erudition, ingenuity, and patience to decipher the result.) With kana and a renewed belief in the worth of their cherished native traditions, the Japanese challenged the unnatural monopoly of the shih. The trend is first discernible in the 830's and 840's among a few well-educated courtiers—such as Ariwara Narihira's older brother Yukihira—who composed waka to which they applied lessons learned in their tussles with Chinese anthologies. By the mid-ninth century a waka revival was at hand. Japanese poems appeared alongside pictures on the folding screens that Fujiwara nobles provided for their womenfolk in imitation of T'ang custom. They were recited during T'angstyle competitions between rival sets of paintings, sweetflag roots, or incense compounds. And presently, perhaps as an outgrowth of the last pastime, they began to be written for poetry contests in the imperial palace and the mansions of the great—increasingly important functions that aroused deep passions and desperate determination among the participants and their supporters. Emperors no longer called solely for Chinese poems during banquets and hunting excursions. By the end of the century the eclipse of the shih was unmistakable: the fourth imperial poetic anthology, Kofynshu, which was composed not of shih as its predecessors had been, but of waka, merely gave formal recognition to an accomplished fact.20 The victory of the waka, however, was not a victory for

30

3i

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Introduction

the tradition embodied in Man'yoshu, whose poems, though by no means untainted by Chinese notions, nevertheless emphasized content more than style and were distinguished by freely expressed emotion, flexibility in the use of vocabulary, and a relatively wide range of themes, forms, and tones. The triumph was rather that of a new poetic shaped by the Six Dynasties poets' restricted vision, their preoccupation with formal perfection and fine language, their imagery, their conservatism, and their pose of sophistication. It was no doubt inevitable that the Six Dynasties style, previously naturalized by the authors of Heian shih, should have affected the Japanese poetry that these versifiers composed. One factor in the assimilation of the style was a T'ang-inspired vogue for composing poems on the themes of famous lines from old Chinese poems; it was taken up during the heyday of the shih, and toward the end of the ninth century was being adapted to the waka. For example, a collection of Chinese lines compiled in 894 contains the line "The moon shines on level sand—summer night frost," by Po Chii-i, accompanied by the following poem in Japa-

borrowing focused on imagery, and particularly on the characteristic Six Dynasties use of simile, metaphor, and "allegory. In Six Dynasties and T'ang poetry (and in Heian shih), one frequently encounters the verbs "mistake" and "deceive": "I mistook the snow for cherry blossoms"; "the snow deceived me by posing as moonlight." Though constant repetition destroyed the force of such phrases, they were intended to emphasize the impact of the poet's experience on his sensibilities. He says in effect, "I know that cherry trees do not bloom in December, but the snow on the bare limbs is so very much like flowers—the evidence of my senses is so compelling—that I cannot help feeling a momentary bewilderment." The Japanese greatly admired this kind of "elegant confusion," as Brower and Miner call it, and they adopted many of its images, such as blossoms and snow, white chrysanthemums and frost, dew and jewels, and snow and moonlight.22 The following poem (KKS 269) by Fujiwara Toshiyuki (d. 901) illustrates the adaptation of the device to the waka. Toshiyuki is probably describing the emotions of a minor courtier who has just been granted permission to enter the inner sanctum of the imperial residence (the "celestial realm"). The metaphor, which occurs also in two Japanese shih, can be traced to an early Six Dynasties fu.23

Tsukikage ni Nabete masago no Terinureba Natsu no yo fureru Shimo ka to zo miru.

Fine grains of sand Glistening everywhere In the moonlight— Can it be that frost has fallen This summer night ?

Not only topics but techniques were imported. Since imitation of the tone harmony, end rhyme, and parallelism of classical Chinese poetry was precluded, either by the nature of the Japanese language or by the brevity of the waka, the 32

Hisakata no Kumo no ue nite Miru kiku wa Amatsuhoshi to zo Ayamatarekeru.

Seeing chrysanthemums In the celestial realm Above the clouds, I was deceived And took them for stars.

Japanese poets were not incapable of creating topics, techniques, and images of their own. But they felt an in33

Introduction creasingly explicit desire to refine the waka, to invest it with an aura of sophistication, and to elevate it to the status of Chinese poetry; and one way of achieving those goals, they believed, was to use words, phrases, images, and techniques that by their very antiquity, their encrusted connotations, conjured up, like some richly patinated bronze vessel, the whole glorious span of Chinese civilization. Thus Ki no Tsurayuki, in a poem on "Spring" (KKS 26) admired for its elegance, opulent beauty, complexity, and ingenuity, added depth to his treatment by using words and images whose Chinese origin was immediately recognizable: Aoyagi no Ito yorikakuru Haru shi mo zo Midarete hana no Hokorobinikeru.

Now in the spring— Season of tender green willows' Twisted threads— The tangled blossoms Have burst their coats.

The conceit wittily suggests a literary tailor's view of spring: the image in lines 2 and 3 is adapted from a Chinese word, "willow-thread," which describes the willow tree's long, trailing limbs in spring; hokprobini\eru, here translated "have burst their coats," is from hokprobu, "to rip, to come unsewn," and corresponds to a verb used in Chinese poetry in the same way.24 No poem better exemplifies the ideal that Tsurayuki set forth in his kana preface. This is the Kokjnshu style at its best—a delicately balanced blend of fresh emotion with formal polish, originality with allusiveness, and simplicity with sensuousness.25 The Six Poetic Geniuses. To understand more precisely the development of the mature Kokjnshu style, we must look briefly at six poets who flourished from the 830's to the .88o's—the Six Poetic Qmmsts, ox Ro\kasen, so called be34

J

Introduction cause they are the only Heian poets mentioned by name in the Kokjnshu prefaces.26 Two of the six, Ono no Komachi and Ariwara Narihira, are among Japan's greatest poets. The other four, Archbishop Henjo, the monk Kisen, Otomo Kuronushi, and Bun'ya Yasuhide, are at best secondary figures, but it can be argued that they and others like them were the true precursors of the Kokjnshu style, the bridge between the shih and the Japanese court poetry of the future.27 (Translations of all Rokkasen verses of undisputed authenticity—namely those appearing in Kokjnshu—will be found in Appendix A.) Of Archbishop Henjo, a courtier who became a Buddhist monk upon the death of Emperor Nimmyo in 850, the Chinese Kokjnshu preface says: "Archbishop Henjo is an excellent technician, but his language is ornate and his content meager. His poems are like paintings of beautiful women—they stir the senses to no purpose."28 A poem by Henjo (KKS 165): Hachisuba no Nigori ni shimanu Kokoro mote Nani ka wa tsuyu o Tama to azamuku.

How is it that the lotus leaf, Untainted by impurity, Yet practices deceit— For it would have us think Dewdrops gems.

The Kokjnshu comments seem to a modern reader to capture the author's essential qualities admirably. The intellectuality and choice of imagery in this poem show a strong Six Dynasties influence. Almost nothing is known of Kisen other than that he too was a Buddhist monk. The Chinese preface says: "The language of the monk Kisen has a flowerlike beauty, but there is a vague quality in his poems; reading them, one 35

Introduction

Introduction

feels as though dawn clouds had obscured one's view of the autumn moon."29 Kisen's only Kofynshu poem (983):

an emphasis on technique typical of the "cleverness" of the Six Dynasties. Otomo Kuronushi was a substantial landholder in 6mi Province, not far from the capital. He held the lowest court rank, and is known to have taken some part in court life as late as the 890's. The Chinese preface says: "There is much of interest in Otomo Kuronushi's verses, but his style is quite vulgar. He reminds one of a peasant relaxing in front of flowers."30 A poem by Kuronushi (KKS 899) :81

Wa ga io wa Miyako no tatsumi Shika zo sumu Yo o ujiyama to Hito wa iu nari.

Thus I dwell In my hermitage Southeast of the capital At the place others call Gloomy Mount Uji.

In the first three lines, the author seems to be projecting the very Chinese image of the cultivated man who rejects society and finds contentment in the life of a recluse: shi\a ("thus") stands in opposition to u ("melancholy," "gloomy," "disagreeable") and carries the implication "happily," "peacefully." But lines 4 and 5 are susceptible to various interpretations because the kakekotoba technique joins u with the place name Ujiyama (Mount Uji). The poem might be understood and paraphrased in any of the following ways: (1) "Though my life in this hermitage is always tranquil, laymen cannot believe that anyone could be happy here; to them the very name of the place suggests misery." (2) "Though I am happy here, others say that the misery of the human condition is inescapable no matter where one goes." (3) "Though I am happy here, people say that I have come because I am embittered and frustrated." (4) "Though I am happy here, people say that no one can find peace in a spot so close to the profane life of the capital." (5) "Though I am happy, nobody else would be willing to live here. People avoid this place; they call it Mount Melancholy." (6) "It is all a matter of viewpoint. To me this is a pleasant spot near the capital; to others it is the godforsaken ends of the earth." This is, in short, a deliberately obscure, self-consciously intellectual poem, with 36

Kagamiyama Iza tachiyorite Mite yukan Toshi henuru mi wa Oi ya shinuru to.

Before journeying on I shall go closer And look at Mirror Mountain— For I have no doubt begun To show my age.

This is a shallow poem that derives its effect from verbal tricks. In the Heian period, mirrors were precious objects which ordinary travelers were unlikely to carry. Kagamiyama (Mirror Mountain), near the capital, was well known to early travelers. Yasuhide was a very minor court official who is presumed to have lived until around the 88o's or 890's. The Chinese preface says: "Bun'ya Yasuhide deals cleverly with set topics, but his style lacks elevation. He reminds one of a tradesman dressed up in a new suit of clothes."32 One of his poems, composed for a contest (KKS 249): Fuku kara ni Aki no kusaki no Shiorureba Mube yamakaze o Arashi to iuramu.

When it blows It ravages the autumn woods— Which of course must explain Why a wind from the mountains Is called a tempest.

37

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The poem depends on a play involving the Chinese characters for "wind" and "mountain," which together form the character for "storm." Its triviality, lack of emotion, and rather cheap ingenuity are all reminiscent of Six Dynasties predecessors. These four poets, so patently indebted to Chinese masters, are equally close in tone, technique, and themes to their own immediate successors, the generation of the Kohjnshu compilers. There is some doubt whether Fu\u \ara ni was composed by Yasuhide or by his son; no stylistic idiosyncrasy, no bold, original concept, no distinctive, powerful emotional content helps us decide. The poem might as easily be attributed to Ki no Tomonori (fl. ca. 890), one of the KoJ^inshu compilers, whose poem below (KKS 337) plays with characters in the same way:

mold. Komachi exchanged poems with Henj5 and Yasuhide and must therefore have been active around the middle of the ninth century. Little is known of her life. Her Ko\inshu poems and their brief headnotes provide almost no biographical data, and supplementary sources of information have not survived, except for unsubstantiated legends that describe her as a heartless beauty who died in poverty. But through her poetry she emerges from the anonymous Ko\inshu throng as a distinct personality—a passionate, coquettish, intensely feminine woman, preoccupied with men and the emotions they aroused. Thirteen of her 18 verses are classified by the Kokinshii compilers as love poems, and a modern reader would put the other five in the same category. When Komachi is in a flirtatious mood, she speaks with the characteristic voice of the age. Her mastery of the techniques admired by Tsurayuki is clear in the following allegorical message to a suitor (KKS 623), dependent for its effect on an intricately contrived series of word plays by means of which the unhappy man is simultaneously rebuffed and encouraged:33

Yuki fureba Ki goto ni hana zo Sakinikeru Izure o ume to Wakite oramashi.

After the snowfall, Flowers bloom On every tree— How shall I find the plum To pluck a spray ?

The characters for "tree" and "every," combined, mean "plum." But then Tomonori's poem might have been written by Henjo, who also suffers from "elegant confusion." In Kotynshu, as in its Chinese ancestors, it is all but impossible to discover any poem of which one might say, "Thar could only have been written by X." Henjo, Kisen, Kuronushi, and Yasuhide blend imperceptibly with the others; they form part of a direct line of transmission from Six Dynasties and T a n g to Heian shih to Ko\inshu. Komachi and Narihira, however, do not quite fit the

38

v Mirumenaki

Wa ga mi o ura to Shiraneba ya Karenade ama no Ashi tayuku kuru.

In this bay There is no seaweed. Does he not know it— The fisherman who persists in coming Until his fegs grow weary ?

If she had written only poems like this, cool, witty, and fashionably elegant, she would still be remembered as an accomplished practitioner of the court style. But there is in her best work, a group of compositions known as the 39

Introduction

Introduction "dream poems," an emotional intensity that sets her apart from lesser poets and places her far closer than Tsurayuki himself to the stated Ko\inshu ideal of balance between form and content. The dream poems, of which the following (KKS 553) is an example, are moving evocations of the life of the Heian woman, who typically shared her lover or husband with rivals, and who lived in constant fear of abandonment, against which she had no protection: Utatane ni Koishiki hito o Miteshi yori Yume cho mono wa Tanomisometeki.

Since encountering my beloved While I dozed, I have begun to feel That it is dreams, not reality, On which I can rely.

The Chinese preface says, in obvious reference to the subtle blend of romanticism, escapism, and despair characteristic of the dream poems, "Ono no Komachi's poetry . . . has elegance but lacks strength; it reminds one of a sick woman wearing cosmetics."34 This most feminine poetry does lack strength, in the sense that Komachi makes no bold challenge to fate, plans no action to break free of despair. But her despair is passionate, not passive, and her emotion is the more poignant for the aching sense of frustration it betrays. Komachi lives, feels, and suffers, and her poetry is alive with a passionate intensity, a deep emotional involvement sought but rarely achieved by other poets in the Kokjnshil tradition. Few of her contemporaries or successors could have written the poem below:35 Hito ni awan Tsuki no naki ni wa

40

On such a night as this When the lack of moonlight shades your way to me,

Omiokite Mune hashiribi ni Kokoro yakeori.

I wake from sleep my passion blazing, My breast a fire raging, exploding flame While within me my heart chars.

Komachi's experiences as a Heian woman undoubtedly contributed to her artistic growth. Her theme of unhappy love brought her into close and fruitful association with the ancient native tradition of lyric expression, which gave both authority and direction to her natural inclinations; and she must have been far less influenced than most male poets by Chinese poetry, which she was probably unable to read, much less to write. Only impressive native gifts, however, can explain the ease with which she avoids the artificiality of the court style while accepting its conventions. In any society Ono no Komachi would have been a major poet. Ariwara Narihira. Ariwara Narihira (825-80) was the grandson of two emperors. His father, Prince Abo, a son of ex-Emperor Heizei, was exiled to Kyushu in 810 at the age of 18, after participating in an attempt to restore Heizei to the throne; he returned to the capital around 824 and went on to a moderately successful official career. Narihira's mother was Princess Ito, a daughter of Emperor Kammu. According to Sandai )itsuro\u (True Records of Three Reigns), the official history for the period, the poet was his father's fifth son. He and his brothers were made commoners, with the surname Ariwara, in the year following his birth. Aside from scattered hints in Ko\inshu poems and their headnotes, the chief source of information about Narihira is a terse obituary notice in Sandai jitsuro\u, which, like 4i

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Introduction

all the histories, concentrates primarily on the official careers of its subjects. The editors' list of Narihira's offices and ranks shows that he advanced very slowly, and that, unlike his older brother Yukihira, he never rose to the top level of the bureaucracy. After a series of minor appointments, he was promoted to first one and then the other of the two offices with which he is identified in Tales of Ise: he became Commander of the Right Horse Bureau in 865 and Middle Captain in the Imperial Guards of the Right in 875. In 879, shortly before his death, he was named Director of the Archivists' Bureau. His highest court rank was Junior Fourth Upper.36 The chief reason for this poor showing was that during Narihira's lifetime the Fujiwara family was gradually excluding outsiders from important public offices. Fujiwara pressure was irresistible unless a man happened to combine exalted lineage with exceptional ability or seniority, as, for example, Yukihira and some of the Minamoto ex-princes did. Narihira pursued the course usually adopted by a courtier of high birth who was unwilling either to enter the Buddhist priesthood or to seek his fortune in the provinces. He stayed in the capital, performed a few routine duties, and devoted most of his time to social activities. His life as a fashionable gentleman of leisure inspired his poetry and was indirectly responsible for the development of Tales of Ise in the form in which we know it. The passage that describes Narihira in Sandai jitsurokjt, though famous, has been made tantalizingly cryptic by the editors' determination to write in balanced Chinese prose. Each of their four comments consists of exactly four characters.37 1. Taibo \anrei: "In appearance he was elegant and handsome." This probably means that he was more than

ordinarily good-looking, since official histories do not as a rule comment on a man's appearance.38 2. Hoju \a\awarazu: Hojil usually means "self-indulgent," \a\awarazu, "regardless of" or "in spite of." The phrase implies that Narihira did as he pleased regardless of established conventions—but when and how ? As an official ? In his private life ? One possible interpretation, that he was promiscuous, has become the central element in a proliferating legend that has made this poet one of the great romantic figures of Japanese history, comparable in some ways to the twelfth-century warrior Minamoto Yoshitsune.39 He has been regarded as a real-life Prince Genji, irresistibly attractive to women and highly sensitive in his relationships with them, and indeed with men as well—in short, a model Heian courtier. This is his role in Tales of Ise, which both stems from the legend and reinforces it. But attempts to find an independent, factual basis for the legend do not get very far, since headnotes to Narihira's Ko\inshu poems (the other chief source of information) show only that he was involved with three or more ladies. It is possible that the stories about his amatory prowess have been greatly exaggerated, and that the Sandai jitsuro\u editors were being less specific than has traditionally been supposed. One modern interpretation takes the comment to mean, "He did as he pleased instead of observing the rules that ought to govern an official's behavior."40 It has also been suggested, on the basis of the third comment in the obituary, that the phrase means that he refused to bother with Chinese studies because he preferred to write Japanese poetry.41 3. Hotondo saigaku nashi: "Almost no saiga\u." In Sandai jitsuro\u, sai ("talent," "intelligence," "aptitude") usually seems to mean scholarly attainments or capability

42

43

Introduction

Introduction

as a Chinese scholar, and ga\u ("education") Chinese learning. Puzzled Tokugawa scholars, unable to understand how someone with "almost no Chinese education" could have had an official career, decided that the negative nashi had somehow slipped into the text instead of the positive art. The present tendency, however, is to hold that Narihira's duties could not have been exacting, and that the text probably means what it says. 4. Yo\u yamatouta o tsukuru: "He excelled in the composition of Japanese poems [as opposed to Chinese]." This is a rather unusual remark for the editors of a standard history, who typically took the position that only a man's official career and his achievements as a Chinese scholar were worth recording. (The biography of the great Man'yoshu poet Otomo Yakamochi, for example, says nothing about his verse.)42 It probably signifies both that the status of the waka was rising and that Narihira's genius was recognized by his contemporaries.43 This is as far as the official history takes us. For more information about Narihira, his associates, and his way of life, one can only rely upon his Ko\inshu poems, poems written to him, and the relevant headnotes.44 Appendix A shows that Narihira wrote a number of poems relating to prominent figures of the day: the Fujiwara regent Mototsune; Fujiwara Koshi (sometimes called Takaiko), a consort of Emperor Seiwa; and an imperial prince, Koretaka. Prince Koretaka (844-97) w a s a s o n °^ Emperor Montoku (r. 850-58) who had appeared to be destined for the throne until his infant half-brother was named crown prince instead, in 850. Koretaka was the son of a lady from the Ki family; his successful rival, the future Emperor Seiwa, was the grandson of a Fujiwara. Narihira married a daughter of Ki no Aritsune, Prince Koretaka's uncle.

During his years as Commander of the Right Horse Bureau, he was apparently in the prince's service (perhaps because of the family connection), and he seems to have been a valued and congenial member of the prince's literary coterie.45 A poem in Ko\inshu (970) bears touching witness to his grief when the prince suddenly took religious vows at the age of 28 and retired to a hermitage. Tokugawa scholars were wrong, one feels, when they explained the relationship between these two men as merely a political alliance against the Fujiwara, though it can be assumed that disappointment was among the ties that bound them together. During the Tokugawa period, a political explanation was also zealously sought for the most famous of Narihira's legendary love affairs. The lady was Fujiwara Koshi (842910), "the Empress from the Second Ward," niece and adopted daughter of the Fujiwara chieftain Yoshifusa. Koshi became a junior consort (nyogo) of Emperor Seiwa in 866, when she was 24 and the emperor was 16. She bore the future Emperor Yozei two years later, and received the title of ex-empress {\6taigo) after Yozei's accession in 876. For seven years, from the time her son was named crown prince until Emperor Seiwa abdicated, she was the most important of the imperial ladies, and she seems to have led a gay life, surrounded by luxuries, and to have maintained a literary salon frequented by Narihira and other poetcourtiers.46 Later her fortunes waned. Yozei, who proved to be criminally insane, was deposed in 884 by Koshi's brother, Mototsune, and in 896 Koshi was deprived of the title of ex-empress because of a sensational liaison with a Buddhist monk. Koshi's affair with Narihira supposedly took place while her adoptive father, Yoshifusa, was waiting for the future

44

45

Introduction

Introduction Fujiwara-Imperial Family Intermarriage (9th century) Fujiwara Fuyutsugu

.1 Emperor Nimmy6=junshi

-r1

1

Yoshifusa

Emperor Montoku—Meishi

Nagara 1

Emperor Seiwa=K6shi

'

1 Mototsune

Emperor Yozei

Emperor Seiwa to reach puberty so that she could be made an imperial consort. According to legend, Narihira visited her in the palace of her aunt, Fujiwara Junshi, "the Empress from the Fifth Ward," became intimate with her, and finally abducted her. A generally reliable eleventh-century chronicle, Okjzgami (The Great Mirror), says of Koshi: It is not at all clear how the lady happened to become an imperial consort, because she was the girl whom Middle Captain Narihira carried off and hid while she was still living a sheltered life at home. Her elder brothers... went to fetch her back. [Since her elopement ruled out the possibility of a formal presentation], there would have been no opportunity for the emperor to meet and fall in love with her if she had been kept as rigidly secluded as most girls. But she paid visits to the Empress from Somedono [Meishi, Seiwa's mother], with whom she was on intimate terms, and no doubt he noticed her on one such occasion.47 As a result of the elopement (the legend continues), Narihira was obliged to go to eastern Japan for a time, and after his return his official career languished because of Fujiwara hostility. According to some Tokugawa scholars, the seduction was a political ruse devised by Narihira because, as a partisan of Prince Koretaka and the Ki family, he wished to prevent the match between Seiwa and

Koshi. 46

Kohinshii and Tales of he are the sources for this romance, which has always been regarded as one of the great scandals of early Heian court history. The headnotes to Narihira's poems KKS 632 and 747 are said to refer to Koshi, though they do not mention her name; and she has traditionally been thought to figure in Sections 4, 26, and 65 of he monogatari, as well as in the sections that identify her by name.48 Since Tales of he is not a reliable historical source, the legend rests on the hints preceding KKS 632 and 747, and on the texts and headnotes of two other KKS poems by Narihira that show him traveling in eastern Japan (410 and 411). Many scholars have questioned the historicity of the trip to the east, usually on the grounds that it ought to have produced more and better poems, and there is in any case no evidence to support the old argument that the trip was made because of the disclosure of an affair with Koshi, or possibly to try to recruit anti-Fujiwara support. About the affair itself, one can merely speculate. Perhaps the dashing young man did indeed snatch the susceptible maiden from under the arrogant noses of her Fujiwara guardians; perhaps not. Eleven hundred years later, it can be said with certainty only that the legend was firmly established well before the end of the Heian period. Ko\inshu shows Narihira writing poems for Koshi, as for Prince Koretaka, on purely public and social occasions (KKS 871 and 294). We learn from the same source that he composed a graceful poem for Mototsune's fiftieth birthday celebration (KKS 349), and there are other indications that he was outwardly on good terms with the Fujiwara, regardless of his private sentiments. A lament for Yoshifusa is attributed to him in the second imperial waka anthology (GSS 1126), and the main figure in he monogatari is consistently courteous and complimentary in his dealings with the family (IM 98,101).

47

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Introduction

From Ko\inshu headnotes (corroborated by episodes in he monogatari), one can deduce that Narihira's closest associates were men of his own sort, cultivated, interested in poetry, high-born but of little consequence politically: e.g., Ki no Aritsune, his father-in-law; Fujiwara Toshiyuki, an important poet who was Aritsune's nephew; and Ki no Toshisada, a minor official whose poetry was good enough to be included in Ko\inshii.i9 Narihira's nine poems in the Kokjnshu "Love" category disclose the following information about his celebrated amours. One poem (785), with the companion verse by the lady and that verse's headnote, constitutes the evidence for his marriage to Aritsune's daughter; one (476) was sent to a stranger; two (632, 747) seem to hint at the relationship with Koshi; one (622) is a complaint against a lady who had resisted his advances; three others (616, 644, 707) are addressed to a lady or ladies whom he had presumably wooed successfully, perhaps Koshi, perhaps Aritsune's daughter, perhaps one, two, or three others. And one (646) is said to be a reply to the poem below (KKS 645):

Kokjnshu is not specific, and its phrase saigu nari\eru hito might even be rendered "a lady in the Virgin's service." Within a few decades, however, the combined influence of the two books had made this particular Virgin part of the Narihira legend, and by the early eleventh century she was being accepted as the mother of one of the poet's sons. Modern scholars have been more skeptical. They point out that if such a love affair took place it must have been a wellkept secret, since otherwise the Virgin would have been removed from office (she served her full term without incident), and that whereas hints of the Koshi liaison recur repeatedly in Tales of he, suggesting that there was some foundation for the persistent rumors, the same is not true of the supposed association with the Virgin.51 It has even been argued that the headnote to KKS 645 is an interpolation based on Tales of he. The only certainty is that of the three specific ladies to whom Ko\inshu alludes, or appears to allude, Aritsune's daughter, a suitable wife for a man in Narihira's position, has received little attention in the legend, while K5shi and the Virgin, the glamorously inaccessible imperial consort and high priestess, have become its main pillars. There are only a few other bits of information with which to touch up this sketchy picture of Narihira and his life: intimations of periods of depression, caused no doubt by dissatisfaction with his offices and ranks, or by unhappy loves (GSS 1084,1245); additional exhibitions of sensibility (KKS 133, 268, 879); and indications of a warmly affectionate, generous nature (KKS 868, 901). The total is not an impressive foundation for a major legend, and yet it evokes a curiously vivid image. Like Prince Genji, Narihira seems to personify the supreme Heian ideals of elegance and sensitivity. And it is fairly certain that this is why he became the model for the character, identified only as

When Narihira went to Ise Province, he paid a most secret visit to the Virgin. The next morning, as he was thinking of her longingly (he could not very well send her a message), someone brought him this. Kimi ya koshi Ware ya yukiken Omoezu Yume ka utsutsu ka Nete ka samete ka.

Did you, I wonder, come here, Or might I have gone there ? I scarcely k n o w . . . Was it dream or reality— Did I sleep or wake ?

Section 69 of Tales of he says, "The Virgin was the one who served during the reign of Emperor Seiwa,"50 but 48

49

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Introduction

"the man of old," who lends unity to Tales of he's vignettes. Since Narihira has always been regarded as a great poet, his name has become attached to many poems from other hands. In order to appraise his work, one must first discard these accretions. A mere 150 lines remain, but they are enough to prove that his reputation rests on solid achievement, to illuminate his place in the classical tradition, and to clarify the nature of his indebtedness to Chinese example. Here is one of his poems, composed "On seeing the cherry trees at the Nagisa House" (KKS 53) :

other examples could be cited. But in poetry the crucial thing is the use made of materials, not the materials themselves. It was natural that Narihira and other early Heian poets should have sought to adapt Chinese conventions to the waka. The important question is: how successful as poetry was the result ? Few poets have treated their subjects with more technical skill or greater lyric beauty than Narihira. Brower and Miner's analysis of Yo no na\a ni sheds useful light on his methods.

Yo no naka ni Taete sakura no Nakariseba Haru no kokoro wa Nodokekaramashi.

If this were but a world To which cherry blossoms Were quite foreign, Then perhaps in spring Our hearts would know peace.

It can scarcely be denied that this poem stands squarely in the Six Dynasties tradition of intellectualism. Furthermore, it is not an isolated aberration. Narihira constantly hypothesizes, explains, wonders, poses rhetorical questions, and devises ingenious metaphors. Whether he was a Chinese scholar or not, there can be no doubt that he used the techniques of Chinese poetry and that his themes show Chinese influence. The "message" of Yo no na\a ni is a familiar one: "We could enjoy the spring if we were not obliged to worry constantly lest wind or rain destroy the blossoms." Similarly, the basic idea in the famous Tsu\i ya aranu (KKS 747, discussed below)—the contrast between the ephemerality of human experience and the eternal sameness of spring—can be traced through numerous Chinese and Japanese variations to an early T'ang original.52 Still 50

Although appropriate diction is but one of Narihira's many accomplishments, it is the language in cadences of Virgilian resonance more than anything else which makes his art so appealing. He and Komachi often fill the third and fifth lines with liquid, inflected adjectives or verbs that develop the sounds of preceding words with a perfected lyricism. [The poem Yo no naka ni] by Narihira, for example, is one that will never have a wide appreciation among foreign readers, but its pure diction and lovely rhythms will always appeal to the Japanese. The major pause at the end of the third line anticipates the strong conclusion, in which the "o" and "k" sounds of the preceding line are given a new direction; the first and fourth lines have .slightly longer pauses and their grammatical structure is similar, except that each of the two nouns in the fourth line has one more syllable than the corresponding noun in the first line.53 One of Narihira's special qualities is that, like Komachi, he remains very much a lyric poet in the ancient native tradition, even though he accepts the conventions of a new era, and indeed does much to shape them. He stands at a happy point in time; his poetry, like Heian civilization itself in the ninth century, combines the glorious Nara vitality, sense of wonder, and emotional intensity with a sophisticated Chinese elegance too new to have felt the para5i

Introduction lyzing hand of conventionality. In his day, repetition of hackneyed themes and techniques had not yet threatened to reduce the waka to a mechanical exercise, nor was the function of Japanese poetry quite as public as it soon became. None of Narihira's Ko\inshu poems was written for a contest, and, so far as can be determined from the headnotes, very few were composed on topics set by other people. Most of them instead represent his response to personal experience, affected in a general way by knowledge of the Chinese classical tradition, but shaped specifically by a warm, easily moved nature and a rare poetic sensibility. Of course Narihira's lyricism is not the lyricism of the Man'ydshu poets. The following love poem (KKS 747), linked in the legend to the affair with Koshi, illustrates his characteristic mode of expression: Once, quite without premeditation, Narihira began to make love to a lady who lived in the western wing of a palace belonging to the Empress from the Fifth Ward. Shortly after the Tenth of the First Month the lady moved away with no word to him, and though he learned where she had gone, it was impossible to communicate with her. In the spring of the following year, when the plum blossoms were at their height, poignant memories of the preceding year drew him back to the western wing on a beautiful moonlit night. He lay on the floor of the bare room until the moon sank low in the sky. Tsuki ya aranu Haru ya mukashi no Haru naranu Wa ga mi hitotsu wa Moto no mi ni shite.

Is not the moon the same ? The spring The spring of old ? Only this body of mine Is the same body...

Whereas the emotion in the typical Man'ydshu poem is directly expressed and easily apprehensible, Narihira pre52

Introduction sents a psychological state so complex that the poem can be interpreted in at least four different ways. (1) "Is it possible that the moon is actually different this year ? The spring too? They seem so to me. Everything has changed; I alone remain tie same." (2) "How could the moon and the spring be different this year from last? Clearly, they are not. Physically, I too am still the same, but I feel entirely different. I was happy before; now I am miserable." (3) "Everything is as it was before. The moon, the spring, I myself—all are the same. The only difference is the absence of the woman I love; the change is there, not in me." (4) "I don't know whether or not the moon and the spring are different. I suppose not, although they seem very different to me. But I am painfully aware that I am the same person who once was happy here. Of that there can be no doubt at all."54 Tsu\i ya aranu is typical of a group of poems (KKS 476, 616, 644, 646) in which Narihira has used polished craftsmanship and lyric intensity to explore the nature of illusion and reality, and, in so doing, to create a dreamlike, otherworldly atmosphere. The poem has exceptional formal distinction. Stops at the ends of lines 1 and 3 strengthen the emotional impact, and great aural beauty is achieved by patterns of repetition: Tsu\i ya... Haru ya; Tsu\i ya aranu ... Haru naranu; Haru ya...Haru naranu; Wa ga mi ... Moto no mi. The early negatives {aranu, naranu) balance the later affirmation. And by leaving the final line unfinished, Narihira transcends the limitations of his brief medium, leaving in the air a variety of provocative suggestions. This poem and others like it establish Narihira as a major Japanese poet. The Ko\inshu compilers, however, preferred the witty conceits of Yo no na\a ni and A\ana\u ni. The Chinese 53

Introduction

Introduction

preface says, in obvious reference to Tsu\i ya aranu and poems of its kind, "Ariwara Narihira's poems suffer from an excess of emotion too tersely expressed. They resemble drooping flowers, somewhat lacking in color but still fragrant."55 In other words, Tsurayuki and his colleagues felt that there was an imbalance between form and content in Narihira's poetry: the "lingering fragrance" was the portion of the content denied expression by the inadequacies of the form. The compilers had no objection to overtones per se. They themselves exploited the allusive possibilities of Chinese subjects and metaphors, and manipulated kakekotoba, engo, and jo to induce romantic, nebulous mental images and associations of ideas. But whereas Narihira, in his best poems, used linguistic resources to evoke complex human emotions, and even to raise metaphysical questions, the more typical Kofynshii author was concerned with creating an impression of ethereal, elegant beauty. The difference is the difference between Tsu\i ya aranu and Tsurayuki's Aoyagi no (p. 34 above). Different ages establish different concepts of beauty and of the function of art. Ours is broader than that of Heian Japan—less refined, perhaps. We find in Tsufy ya aranu a beauty emotionally and intellectually more satisfying than that of a poem like Aoyagi no; Tsurayuki, while recognizing Narihira's greatness, believed that there was something not quite well-bred, something disturbing, in the intensity of his feeling. Tsurayuki and his colleagues recognized that there could be no poetry without emotion. "Poetry has its roots in the human heart," Tsurayuki wrote at the beginning of his preface. But the Ko\inshii compilers rejected excessive displays of passion for the same reason that they rejected distressing themes and unorthodox images—such as those of Yamanoue Okura's "Dialogue on Poverty" in Man'yoshu,56 with its description of whining

children and tattered bedclothes, or of the country lass's poems in Tales of he (14), with their homely chatter of roosters, cisterns, and silkworms. The ideal of "decorous elegance," they felt, could best be served by giving preference to conservative diction, seasonal themes, and gently melancholy reflections on the ephemerality of worldly things. It can be argued that the Ko\inshu compilers and their followers sacrificed too much by limiting themselves in this way, stayed too much under Chinese influence, lost the freedom to experiment and grow, and made the eventual decline of their art inevitable. But it was a deliberate choice, made for reasons that command respect. Their ideal was beauty, taste, and sensitivity; and they achieved it with notable success. The remarkable thing about the Japanese classical tradition is indeed not its sterility but its vitality— the fact that for generations its poets produced works of great distinction, which, after centuries, are still fresh and moving. The survival of this poetry best answers the question of Chinese influence, for mere imitation seldom confers immortality. The good classical poets used Chinese materials creatively. To call them imitators or borrowers is to disregard their finest achievements.

54

TALES OF ISE

The ideals of the Kotynshu compilers set the general literary tone of the period during which Tales of Ise came into being. Tales of Ise itself, however, stems primarily from the indigenous tradition of lyric love poetry, as modified through contact with the new Sino-Japanese culture. Symbolically, it contains all 30 of Narihira's Ko\inshu poems but only one poem attributed to Tsurayuki. Tales of Ise resists capsule description. Early modern 55

Introduction scholars, seeking to relate it to recognized literary genres, found themselves obliged to assign it to a new category, the uta monogatari ("stories about poems"), created expressly for it and for two slightly later works written under its influence. As the name suggests, it is a hybrid form, combining the traditional emphasis on poetry with a new interest in the potentialities of the prose medium. It represents an early stage in what was perhaps the most significant literary phenomenon of the Heian period—the flowering of true prose literature, which culminated in The Tale of Genji. Tales of he can be described as a collection of short short stories, but many of its episodes consist of nothing more than a poem with a one-line introduction. In such sections, and in numerous others with only slightly more extended prose contexts, it strongly resembles a poetic anthology with headnotes. We cannot however call it one, for its prose elements are, on the whole, too prominent. It is a transitional form, halfway between the poetry collections and the later prose works, such as The Tale of Genji, in which the role of poetry, though important, is unmistakably subordinate. \ In most he monogatari texts there are 209 poems distributed among 125 sections. In a poetic anthology such as Kofynshu, the poems are arranged with great care, first by general categories (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Felicitations, Parting, Travel, Love, etc.), and then by subjects within categories. The structure of Tales of he is much less tidy. There has been an attempt at rational organization, but at least two mutually contradictory principles have been observed. One is biographical. In the first section of most texts, a young man, recently come of age, flirts with two beautiful sisters at the Nara capital. That 56

Introduction section's initial phrase, mu\ashi oto\o ("in olden times a man," "once a man"), recurs in episode after episode. The anonymous protagonist woos a lady whom the reader is invited to identify with Fujiwara Koshi, the future consort of Emperor Seiwa, and then journeys to eastern Japan "because of certain problems that had made life in the capital uncomfortable for him." In the east he exchanges love poems with several ladies. Before long he is back in the city, writing poems on public occasions, pursuing casual amours, and traveling in neighboring provinces. He is dispatched to Ise Province as an Imperial Huntsman, and at the Grand Shrine, in a secret nocturnal meeting, he wins the heart of the Ise Virgin. He serves a son of Emperor Montoku, Prince Koretaka, until the prince takes religious vows and retires to a hermitage. Meanwhile he grows older. He appears to be in demand as a poet on social occasions, although he is described as a humble old fellow who is not good at writing poetry. His poetic exchanges with ladies continue. Near the end of the book he complains—not for the first time—that life has been unkind to him, and in the final episode he writes a death poem. The poems composed by the "man of old" include all of the 30 attributed to Ariwara Narihira in Kokjnshu and four of the 11 attributed to him in Gosenshu; the court offices he holds are offices held by Narihira; and many of the stories about him parallel Ko\inshu headnotes to poems by Narihira. But it is clear that there has been no serious, consistent attempt to present a historically accurate biography. Poems listed as anonymous or attributed to other writers in Kokinshu are presented as compositions of the "man of old." The two Ko\inshu poems by Ki no Aritsune's daughter and Narihira are given a fictional setting (IM 19). Two unconnected Kokjnshu poems by Komachi and Narihira 57

Introduction

Introduction

are joined in a romantic episode (IM 25). Narihira's poem about autumn leaves floating in the Tatsuta River, described in Ko\inshu as having been written for a picture on a folding screen, is said by Ise monogatari to have been composed at the river. Kokjnshu poems by Narihira and by others are consistently endowed with contexts that change their meaning. In many episodes, moreover, the chief male character is someone very different from Narihira—a man living in a remote country district (IM 24), the young son of an ordinary couple (IM 40 and 86), a minor official traveling in Kyushu (IM 60), or the son of an itinerant peddler (IM23). The placement, and indeed the inclusion, of some episodes seems to have been dictated by a determination to group stories dealing with the same locality (eastern Japan, Kyushu, the home provinces), the same person (Koshi, Prince Koretaka, the Ise Virgin), or the same subject (married life, court service, unhappy love). Many of the tales in such groups have no connection with the Narihira theme, and some of them (e.g. 23, itself a capsule biography) badly disrupt whatever unity the chronological principle confers. Either Tales of Ise was written by an extraordinarily muddleheaded author or it owes its present form to two or more men who sometimes worked at cross purposes. A book of this kind, made up of short, loosely linked episodes, was peculiarly susceptible to revision, especially in view of the circumstances under which it circulated during its crucial early history. Mentions of Ise monogatari in The Tale of Genji show that it was regarded as a classic by the beginning of the eleventh century, and that it must therefore have been widely known.57 It was transmitted in manuscript versions, which were copied by readers who saw nothing wrong with making revisions, deletions, and,

especially, additions that seemed to them to improve the text. Almost all Heian works have undergone a similar process, but in the case of Ise monogatari an exceptionally complex network of textual lines attests to repeated and extensive changes.58 Every extant full-length version of Ise monogatari contains a core of some no episodes that appear to constitute the oldest part of the book. Some families of texts have five additional sections, some 15, some 20 or more. The process of accretion can be detected. For instance, every textual line includes Section 69, the story of the encounter with the Ise Virgin (found also in KKS 645 and 646 and their headnotes), but Sections 70-75 in our text, which are short episodes echoing the theme of Section 69 (and which contain no Ko\inshu poems), appear in other texts in different sequences or not at all—as though they had been added late and were not carefully integrated. Episodes that seem little more than variations or elaborations of earlier ones may also have been added later. Section 83, containing a Kokjnshu poem by Narihira (970) in a context similar to the Ko\inshu description of a visit to Prince Koretaka at Ono, is followed by a section (85) presenting a poem of unknown provenance in an almost identical setting. Similarly, the abduction story in Section 6, which follows two sections based on Ko^inshu poems by Narihira, both hinting at the liaison with Koshi, is a fanciful elaboration of the Koshi theme, with, again, a poem of uncertain origin. In a number of texts, there is another abduction story, which sometimes follows Section 6 and sometimes appears elsewhere (see Section 127).59 Many other examples could be cited to support the thesis that extant texts of Ise monogatari are the result of a long and complex development. The above will be enough,

58

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Introduction

however, to indicate the hazards involved in attempting to discern in Tales of he the hand of a single author with a single theme, philosophy, or purpose. It has been said that the book was intended to illustrate different kinds of love, as experienced by men and women of widely varying ages, temperaments, and social classes, and extending to the attachments between parent and child, friend and friend, and superior and inferior; or that it has the didactic aim of describing the behavior appropriate to a cultivated man; or that it tries to demonstrate the kinds of poems suitable for various occasions, particularly romantic ones; or that the original author wanted to explain the circumstances surrounding the composition of certain poems. Some or all of those motives were no doubt operative at one time or another, but it is probably best to think of the work as a response to contemporary interest in the waka—the poems themselves, the circumstances of their composition, their authors—and in the emerging possibilities of the prose medium. It can be assumed that the form of the poetic anthology, with its introductory comments preceding the verses, served the original author as a point of departure, and that there is a close relationship between he monogatari and one particular anthology, Ko\inshu. Of 62 Ko\inshu poems in he monogatari, the prose contexts of 25, all written either by or to Narihira, correspond so closely to the Ko\inshu headnotes that there can be no question of coincidence. Either he monogatari has borrowed from Ko\inshu,Kofynshiih&sborrowed from he monogatari, or both have drawn on the same source or sources. Examination of * other poems common to the two texts suggests fairly conclusively that Ko\inshu has not borrowed from Tales of he, and that in some cases, at least, Tales of he has relied

upon Ko\inshu. We have already noticed that two poems by Narihira and Komachi, which merely adjoin one another in Kokjnshu (622 and 623), are in Tales of he made the focal points of a romantic episode involving the "man of old" and an unidentified lady. In some versions of he monogatari, a Komachi poem from Ko\inshu is presented as a composition of the "man of old" (Section 143), anonymous love poems that in Ko\inshu have brief introductory remarks or none are provided with extended settings, and other Ko\inshu poems are revised to fit new contexts. It is tempting to suppose that an early tenth-century courtier, wishing to compile a collection of exemplary love poems, used Ko\inshu as his principal source, drawing heavily on the early anonymous love poems and including most or all of the poems attributed to Narihira, who was already becoming legendary; and that the resultant work, containing few poems by other historical figures, came to be dominated by Narihira's presence. One could argue that gradual accretions tended to increase the book's resemblance to a biography, and that by the eleventh century it was accepted as such, as demonstrated by its alternative titles, Tales of Narihira and The Journal of Narihira.60 The long trend among Japanese specialists, however, has been to favor the third possibility listed above, namely, that Ko\inshu and he monogatari drew on a major common source. Ko\inshu, like other imperial anthologies, is based largely on private poetry collections, and it is assumed that Kofynshu poems by Narihira, together with their uncommonly long headnotes, derive from a vanished "Narihira Collection."61 The collection, it is thought, also formed the basis for the original version of he monogatari, even though it is recognized that at some point there was borrowing from Ko\inshu.

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The reasoning behind the "Narihira Collection" position is closely related to the question of he monogatari'?, enigmatic title. As mentioned above, the text probably once had an alternative title or titles, but the name he monogatari seems to have been well established by Murasaki Shikibu's day. It is the one attached to all known manuscripts, and the one used by all commentators from the Heian period to the present. Monogatari means "tale" or "tales," but by the late Heian period, or perhaps earlier, the significance of he was no longer understood, and attempts at explanations had produced a number of theories, classifiable under three broad categories.62 i. Theories ascribing a special meaning to the word. One of these suggests that i stands for "female" and se for "male," in which case the title would mean "Tales of Women and Men"; another holds that ise is a variant of yose, from yoseru, "to sew, piece together, collect," and that the title means "Collected Tales." 2. Theories postulating a special connection with Ise Province or a person named Ise. One of the most persistent of these, apparently dating back to the mid-Heian period, links the work to Lady Ise, the poetess (fl. ca. 877-940), who, according to a highly unlikely story, married Narihira at the age of 12 and revised his draft of the book after his death. 3. A theory that the title derives from Section 69 and related episodes dealing with the Ise Virgin. Its proponents argue either that the Ise episodes are the most important in the book or that the original work must have begun with Section 69. The etymologies are unconvincing, the proposed connection with Lady Ise suffers from lack of supporting evi-

dence, and it cannot be argued successfully that the Ise Virgin episodes are the most important in the book as we know it. But late Heian scholars reported, and recent research appears to confirm, that there was indeed once a version of Tales of he that began with Section 69 of the present text, although it has not survived intact.63 The present tendency is to regard it as an early form that was much less sophisticated structurally than extant chronologically oriented versions. It is the effort to account for this line of texts, called the "Imperial Huntsman" line, that has led Japanese scholars from the Tokugawa period on to postulate a hypothetical "Narihira Collection," rather than Ko\inshu, as the most important source for he monogatari. Proponents of the "Narihira Collection" theory have usually assumed that the Ise Virgin episode came first in the collection and, accordingly, first in the original uta monogatari, which was therefore called he monogatari, in keeping with a not uncommon practice; and that the old name was retained after the original version was supplanted by the present chronological one. A recent refinement by a leading young scholar, Fukui Teisuke, presupposes not one "Narihira Collection" but two. The "Imperial Huntsman" texts would derive, according to Fukui's theory, from Collection A, a random assortment of poems by and to Narihira, with the so-called exchange with the Ise Virgin at the beginning. Collection B would represent a rearrangement of Collection A into conventional categories; and all extant complete he monogatari versions would be developments from Collection B. Fukui believes that extant full-length versions, when divested of presumed accretions, progress conventionally through the seasons and on to love poems, as he supposes Collection B to have done.64 Since he mono-

62

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gatari has clearly borrowed from Kohjnshu, Collection B would, he says, have been later than Ko\inshu, which presumably would have borrowed from Collection A.65 The great merit of Fukui's theory is that it disposes of the "Imperial Huntsman" line and proposes a simple, logical development for the present full-length versions. The theory's weakness is that, like the older "Narihira Collection" hypothesis, it rests on scanty and inconclusive evidence. Until new facts come to light, the "Narihira Collection" must remain mere plausible conjecture. It was noted earlier, in connection with the title, that an ancient tradition named Narihira as the author of Ise monogatari. By the end of the Heian period, scholars recognized that Narihira could not have written the book in its final form, since the text included his own death poem and other materials not available during his lifetime. Many medieval commentators therefore took the compromise position that Narihira had begun the work and that someone else, perhaps a relative or Lady Ise, had completed it. Narihira's modesty, they said, accounted for the description of the "man of old" as a humble old fellow who knew nothing about poetry. Other pre-modern critics gradually produced other candidates—Ki no Tsurayuki among them— supporting elaborate hypotheses with bits of circumstantial evidence, and ignoring inconvenient conflicts. But scholars now admit frankly that there are simply no facts with which to work, and that the problem is unlikely to be solved. Even if a long-buried diary were suddenly to yield the original author's name, it still would reveal nothing about the many other people who must have contributed in major respects to the book.66 The problem of dating is equally recalcitrant. There must obviously have been an important period of activity

at some point after the compilation of Ko\inshu (ca. 905). Whether or not one supposes that to have been the initial period will depend upon one's opinion concerning the source used by the original author. If, as most scholars assume, the principal source was a "Narihira Collection" identical in content, if not in form, with the one used by Kokinshu, Tales of Ise may have originated at any time after Narihira's death in 880 (not before, since Ko\inshu contains the death poem). In textual studies designed to establish a cut-off date for the process of development, modern scholars have unearthed no evidence of important accretions after the middle of the tenth century. The Tale of Genji, written around 1000, describes Ise monogatari as old. It can be concluded, therefore, that the work had assumed a fairly stable form by the beginning of the eleventh century, and probably several decades earlier.67 In summary, then, Tales of Ise is an anonymous work, the product of a gradual development that took place around the first half of the tenth century. In form it resembles a poetic anthology with greatly expanded and fictionalized headnotes. Its 209 poems deal with all the chief topics of Japanese court poetry, most importantly with love. A majority of the verses are anonymous. Because a famous ninth-century poet, Ariwara Narihira, is the one historical person who figures in it prominently, both as an author of poems and as a protagonist, it has sometimes been regarded as a biography of Narihira, but to view it in that light is to give it a unity and historicity that it lacks. It can best be approached not in terms of preconceived notions about its theme or purpose, but as an interesting combination of poetry and prose, and as a source of insights into the psychology, values, and behavior of Heian society.

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i

O

NCE a man who had lately come of age went hunting on his estate at Kasuga village, near the Nara capital.1 In the village there lived two beautiful young sisters. The man caught a glimpse of the sisters through a gap in their hedge. It was startling and incongruous indeed that such ladies should dwell at the ruined capital, and he wished to meet them. He tore a strip from the skirt of his hunting costume, dashed off a poem, and sent it in. The fabric of the robe was imprinted with a moss-fern design.2

Kasugano no Wakamurasaki no Surigoromo Shinobu no midare Kagiri shirarezu.

Like the random pattern of this robe, Dyed with the young purple From Kasuga Plain— Even thus is the wild disorder Of my yearning heart.8

No doubt it had occurred to him that this was an interesting opportunity for an adaptation of the poem that runs, 1

Notes to the Tales will be found on pp. 199-259.

69

Tales of Ise Michinoku no Shinobu mojizuri Tare yue ni Midaresomenishi Ware naranaku ni.

My thoughts have grown disordered As random patterns dyed on cloth Reminiscent of Shinobu in Michinoku— And who is to blame ? Surely not 1/

Tales of Ise

j

-

Omoi araba Mugura no yado ni Ne mo shinan Hijikimono ni wa Sode o shitsutsu mo.

t

If you love me, Let us sleep together, Though it be in a weed-choked house With our sleeves For mattress.2

This happened while the Empress from the Second Ward3 was still a commoner, before she entered the emperor's palace.

People were remarkably elegant in those days. 2

Once in the days after the move from Nara, when people were still not settled in the new capital, a certain man discovered a lady living in the western part of the city. She was charming to look at, and her disposition was even more delightful than her appearance. She was apparently not single, but the man made love to her anyway, even though he was an honorable fellow. After he had returned home his conscience must have bothered him, because he sent her this poem. (It was early in the Third Month and a drizzling rain was falling.) t

Oki mo sezu Ne mo sede yoru o Akashite wa Haru no mono tote Nagamekurashitsu.

After a night Neither waking nor sleeping, I have spent the day Staring at the rain— The long rain of Spring.1 r: 3

Once a man sent a bit of seaweed1 to a lady with whom he was in love. His poem: 70

Once when the ex-empress1 was living in the eastern Fifth Ward, a certain lady occupied the western wing of her house. Quite without intending it, a man fell deeply in love with the lady and began to visit her; but around the Tenth of the First Month she moved away without a word, and though he learned where she had gone, it was not a place where ordinary people could come and go. He could do nothing but brood over the wretchedness of life. When the plum blossoms were at their height in the next First Month, poignant memories of the year before drew him back to her old apartments. He stared at the flowers from every conceivable standing and sitting position, but it was quite hopeless to try to recapture the past. Bursting into tears, he flung himself onto the floor of the bare room and lay there until the moon sank low in the sky. As he thought of the year before, he composed this poem: Tsuki ya aranu Haru ya mukashi no Haru naranu Wa ga mi hitotsu wa Moto no mi ni shite.

Is not the moon the same ? The spring The spring of old ? Only this body of mine Is the same body 7i

Tales of Ise He went home at dawn, still weeping.

Once a man was paying secret visits to a lady in the neighborhood of the eastern Fifth Ward. Since he did not wish to be observed, he could not enter through the gate, but came and went through a broken place in the earthen wall where some children had been playing. The spot was not much frequented, but his repeated use of it finally became known to the house's owner,1 who posted a night guard there. The man, when he came, was thus obliged to go home without having seen the lady. He composed this poem: Hito shirenu Wa ga kayoiji no Sekimori wa Yoiyoigoto ni Uchi mo nenanan.

Would that he might fall asleep Every night— This guard At the secret place Where I come and go.2

The lady was so distressed that the owner relented. Gossip about these secret visits to the Empress from the Second Ward finally led her brothers to place her under guard—or so it is said.8

A certain man had for years courted a most inaccessible lady. One pitch-black night he finally spirited her out of her apartments and ran off with her. As they passed a stream called the Akutagawa, she caught a glimpse of a dewdrop on a blade of grass and asked him what it was. 72

Tales of Ise The journey ahead was long, the hour had grown late, and a torrential rain was pouring down, punctuated by frightful peals of thunder. The man put the lady inside a ruined storehouse and stationed himself in the doorway with his bow and quiver on his back, never dreaming that the place was haunted by demons. But while he was standing there longing for daybreak, a demon ate the lady up in one gulp. A thunderclap muffled her scream of terror. When the sky finally began to lighten a bit, the man peered inside and saw that the lady was gone. Frantic with helpless grief, he recited, Shiratama ka Nani zo to hito no Toishitoki Tsuyu to kotaete Kienamashi mono o.

When my beloved asked, "Is it a clear gem Or what might it be?" Would that I had replied, "A dewdrop!" and perished.1

It is said that while the future Empress from the Second Ward was in attendance upon her cousin, the imperial consort, someone was fascinated by her beauty and carried her off on his back. Her brothers, Mototsune and Kunitsune, who were minor officials then, happened to be on their way to the imperial palace. They heard someone wailing, halted the abductor, and took the lady back. They were the devils the author talks about. The lady was still very young and had not yet ceased to be a commoner.3

7 Once a man set out toward the east because of certain problems that had made life in the capital uncomfortable for him.1 Gazing at the foaming white surf as he crossed the

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beach between Ise and Owari Provinces, he composed this poem:

Yatsuhashi—"Eight Bridges.") Dismounting to sit under a tree near this marshy area, they ate a meal of parched rice. Someone glanced at the clumps of irises that were blooming luxuriantly in the swamp. "Compose a poem on the subject, 'A Traveler's Sentiments,' beginning each line with a syllable from the word 'iris' [\akitsubata]" he said. The man recited,

Itodoshiku Sugiyuku kata no Koishiki ni Urayamashiku mo Kaeru nami kana.

How poignant now My longing For what lies behindEnviable indeed The returning waves.

8 Once in the past a certain man journeyed toward the east in search of a place to live, perhaps because he found it awkward to stay in the capital. One or two people accompanied him. When he saw smoke rising from the peak of Asama in Shinano Province, he recited a poem: Shinano naru Asama no take ni Tatsu keburi Ochikochibito no Mi ya wa togamenu.

Surely no one Far or near But marvels to see The smoke rising from the peak Of Asama in Shinano.1

Once a certain man decided that it was useless for him to remain in the capital. With one or two old friends, he set out toward the east in search of a province in which to settle. Since none of the party knew the way, they blundered ahead as best they could, until in time they arrived at a place called Yatsuhashi1 in Mikawa Province. (It was a spot where the waters of a river branched into eight channels, each with a bridge, and thus it had come to be called

74

Karagoromo Kitsutsu narenishi Tsuma shi areba Harubaru kinuru Tabi o shi zo omou.

I have a beloved wife, Familiar as the skirt Of a well-worn robe, And so this distant journeying Fills my heart with grief.2

They all wept onto their dried rice until it swelled with the moisture. On they journeyed to the province of Suruga. At Mount Utsu the road they were to follow was dark, narrow, and overgrown with ivy vines and maples. As they contemplated it with dismal forebodings, a wandering ascetic appeared and asked, "What are you doing on a road like this?" The man, recognizing him as someone he had once known by sight, gave him a message for a lady in the capital: Suruga naru Utsu no yamabe no Utsutsu ni mo Yume ni mo hito ni Awanu narikeri.

Beside Mount Utsu In Suruga I can see you Neither waking Nor, alas, even in my dreams.

At Mount Fuji a pure white snow had fallen, even though it was the end of the Fifth Month.4 75

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise Toki shiranu Yama wa Fuji no ne Itsu tote ka Ka no ko madara ni Yuki no fururan.

Fuji is a mountain That knows no seasons. What time does it take this for, That it should be dappled With fallen snow ?5

To speak in terms of the mountains hereabout, Mount Fuji is as tall as twenty Mount Hiei's piled on top of one another.8 In shape it resembles a salt-cone.7 Continuing on their way, they came to a mighty river flowing between the provinces of Musashi and Shimosa. It was called the Sumidagawa.8 The travelers drew together on the bank, thinking involuntarily of home. "How very far we have come!" The ferryman interrupted their laments: "Come aboard quickly; it's getting late." They got into the boat and prepared to cross, all in wretched spirits, for there was not one among them who had not left someone dear to him in the capital. A bird about the size of a snipe—white, with a red bill and red legs—happened to be frolicking on the water as it ate a fish. Since it was of a species unknown in the capital, none of them could identify it. They consulted the ferryman, who replied with an air of surprise, "It is a capitalbird, of course."9 Then one of the travelers recited this poem: Na ni shi owaba Iza koto towamu Miyakodori Wa ga omou hito wa Ari ya nashi ya to.

If you are what your name implies, Let me ask you, Capital-bird, Does all go well With my beloved ?10

Everyone in the boat burst into tears. 76

10

A certain man, having reached the province of Musashi in his wanderings, began to court a Musashi girl. Her father told him that she was intended for someone else, but her mother was delighted by the prospect of such an elegant son-in-law. (Although the father came of ordinary stock, the mother was a Fujiwara, and thus she considered a match with a nobleman entirely suitable and most desirable.) She sent the suitor this poem. The family lived in Miyoshino Village1 in Iruma District. Miyoshino no Tanomu no kari mo Hitaburu ni Kimi ga kata ni zo Yoru to naku nam.

The wild goose that shelters On Miyoshino's fields Cries that it looks In your direction And in no other.2

His reply: Wa ga kata ni Yoru to naku nam Miyoshino no Tanomu no kari o Itsu ka wasuren.

When should I forget The wild goose that shelters On Miyoshino's fields, Crying that it looks In my direction ?8

Even in the provinces this man did not depart from his customary behavior. 11

Once a man journeying toward the east sent some of his friends this poem, composed on the way:

77

Tales of Ise Wasuru na yo Hodo wa kumoi ni Narinu tomo Sora yuku tsuki no Meguriau made.

Though I am as far away As the realm of clouds, Remember me until I come again, Even as the moon returns From its celestial journeying.1 12

Once there was a man who abducted someone's daughter. He was on his way to Musashi Plain1 with her when some provincial officials arrested him for theft. He had left the girl in a clump of bushes and run off, but the pursuers felt certain that he was on the plain, and prepared to set fire to it. In great agitation the girl recited this poem: Musashino wa Kyo wa na yaki so Wakakusa no Tsuma mo komoreri Ware mo komoreri.

Do not set fire today To Musashi Plain, For my beloved husband Is hidden here, And so am I."

They heard her, seized her, and marched the two off together.3 13 Once a man who was staying in Musashi wrote to a lady in the capital, "If I write to you frankly, I shall feel embarrassed; if not, I shall be miserable."1 On the outside of the letter he inscribed the phrase "Musashi stirrups."2 After that there was no further word from him. At length the lady sent this from the capital:

78

Tales of Ise Musashi abumi Sasuga ni kakete Tanomu ni wa Towanu mo tsurashi Tou mo urusashi.

Loving you in spite of all, My trust still undestroyed, I think your silence cruel indeed— Yet I should find it most unpleasant Were you to ask for news of me.8

The man, frantic with anxiety, replied, Toeba iu Towaneba uramu Musashi abumi Kakaru ori ni ya Hito wa shinuran.

If I write, you will be angry; If not, you will hate me. Surely it is at such times That men die Of broken hearts/

!4 Once in the course of his wanderings, a man found himself in Michinoku. A girl of the province, who was no doubt unaccustomed to meeting people from the capital, fell head over heels in love with him and sent him a poem as countrified as she was: Nakanaka ni Koi ni shinazu wa Kuwako ni zo Narubekarikeru Tama no o bakari.

Better it were To be a silkworm, Though its life soon ends, Than to be tortured to death By a rash love.1

He must have pitied her in spite of her crudity, because he went to her house and slept with her. He left in the middle of the night,2 whereupon she sent him this: 79

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise Yo mo akeba Kitsu ni hamenade Kutakake no Madaki ni nakite Sena o yaritsuru.

When daylight comes I shall toss him in the cistern— That miserable rooster Who crows too soon And drives my lover away.3

Presently the man sent word that he was returning to the capital. His poem: Kurihara no Aneha no matsu no Hito naraba Miyako no tsuto ni Iza to iwamashi o.

If the Pine of Aneha at Kurihara Were but a person Long awaited, I would say, "Come with me as a souvenir To the capital."4

The girl was overjoyed. "He must be in love with me," she said. 15 Once in Michinoku a man began to visit the wife of a commonplace fellow, and discovered to his surprise that she was not at all the ordinary sort of person he had expected. He sent her this: Shinobuyama Shinobite kayou Michi mo gana Hito no kokoro no Oku mo mirubeku.

Would that I possessed a way— A path to travel unobserved, Secret as Mount Shinobu's nameTo behold the innermost recesses Of your heart.1

The lady was immensely flattered. But what would happen, she wondered, when he found that it was after all nothing but the heart of a simple rustic.8 80

16 Once there was a man named Ki no Aritsune, who served three emperors.1 For a time he prospered, but later there were changes, and he found himself less well off than even an average courtier. Aritsune was a person of exceptional sensibility and refinement. Despite his poverty, he retained the tastes and attitudes of his more affluent days, paying no attention to the problems of everyday life. He and his wife of many years gradually drew apart, and at length his wife resolved to become a nun and go to live with her elder sister, who had already taken holy orders. Though she and Aritsune had not been intimate for a long time, he was deeply moved as she prepared to leave, but he was too poor to give her a farewell present. In great distress he wrote of her decision to an old friend. "She is leaving forever, and I must send her off without so much as a trifling gift." He ended with this poem: Te o orite Aimishi koto o Kazoureba To to iitsutsu Yotsu wa henikeri.

Bending my fingers, I count The decades Of our life together— They are four.2

His friend found it most touching. He sent him not only a robe but a quilt as well, with this poem: Toshidani mo To tote yotsu wa Henikeru o Ikutabi kimi o Tanomikinuran.

In the four decades That have elapsed, How many times She must have come Seeking your aid.3 81

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise Aritsune replied, Kore ya kono Ama no hagoromo Mube shi koso Kimi ga mikeshi to Tatematsurikere.

18 Can this be a famed Feather robe from heaven ? A garment so splendid Must indeed have been designed For your own wear."

So great was his joy that he sent another poem: Aki ya kuru Tsuyu ya magau to Omou made Aru wa namida no Furu ni zo arikeru.

Has autumn perchance arrived ? Or the dew lost its way ? So might one wonder, Seeing my sleeve Wet with tears of joy.5

17 After staying away for months, a man once visited a certain house to see the cherry trees in bloom. The lady who lived there composed this poem: Ada nari to Na ni koso tatere Sakurabana Toshi ni mare naru Hito mo machikeri.

People call them evanescent, These cherry blossoms— Yet they have waited For someone whose visits Are months apart.1

His reply: Kyo kozu wa Asu wa yuki to zo Furinamashi Kiezu wa ari tomo Hana to mimashi ya. 82

If I had not come today They would have fallen tomorrow Like snow. Though they have not yet melted away, They are scarcely true flowers.2

Once there was a rather shallow lady who wished to be thought elegant. A certain man lived nearby. Since the lady was fond of versifying, she decided to test the man's feelings with this poem, which she attached to a faded chrysanthemum: Kurenai ni Niou wa izura Shirayuki no Eda mo too ni Furu ka to mo miyu.

Where can it be— The reddish tinge ? What I have seen Is like fallen white snow Bending the branches.1

The man pretended not to understand. He answered, Kurenai ni Niou ga ue no Shiragiku wa Orikeru hito no Sode ka to mo miyu.

The white chrysanthemum— Its lower petals Tinged with red— Is it not like the sleeve Of the lady who plucked it ?2

19 A man in the service of an imperial consort once began to make love to one of the lady's attendants. Presently, however, the affair came to an end. Since the two served in the same household, they were always meeting, but though the woman saw the man plainly enough, he behaved as though she were not present. She sent him this poem:1 Amagumo no Yoso ni mo hito no Nariyuku ka Sasuga ni me ni wa Miyuru mono kara.

I still see you, And yet You have grown distant As a cloud In the heavens.

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Tales of he Ima wa tote Wasururu kusa no Tane o dani Hito no kokoro ni Makasezu mo gana.

Perhaps you think it time now To forget me. Yet I should like to stop The "forgetting-grass" seed From being planted in your heart,* If you have heard That I am planting Forgetting-grass, Can you not tell That I have been thinking of you ?*

With that began a new intimacy even closer than the old. One day the man composed this poem: Wasururan to Omou kokoro no Utagai ni Arishi yori ke ni Mono zo kanashiki.

Because of doubt Lest you again Put me from your thoughts, I feel a sadness Unknown in the past.5

She replied, Nakazora ni Tachiiru kumo no Ato mo naku Mi no hakanaku mo Narinikeru kana.

Cruel though you have been, I cannot put you From my mind, And thus my bitterness Is tempered with love.1

'Just as I anticipated!" said the man. He sent her this:

His reply: Wasuregusa Uu to dani kiku Mono naraba Omoikeri to wa Shiri mo shinamashi.

Uki nagara Hito o ba e shi mo Wasureneba Katsu uramitsutsu Nao zo koishiki.

As a cloud Hanging in midair Dissolves without a trace, So indeed must end This evanescent life.6

Aimite wa Kokoro hitotsu o Kawashima no Mizu no nagarete Taeji to zo omou.

Now that we two have met, May our hearts be inseparable As the waters of a stream— Riven by islands, But flowing reunited forever.2

Nevertheless he went to her that very night. They talked of what had happened and of the future, and presently he recited, Aki no yo no Chiyo o hitoyo ni Nazuraete Yachiyo shi neba ya Aku toki no aran.

Would I be satisfied If I might count A thousand autumn nights as one, And sleep with you Eight thousand nights ?3

She replied, Aki no yo no Chiyo o hitoyo ni Naseri tomo Kotoba nokorite Tori ya nakinan.

Were we to make A thousand autumn nights Into one, There would still be things to say At cockcrow.*

But in the end they found new partners and became estranged.

From then on he visited her more faithfully than ever.

22

23 A boy and a girl, the children of two men who traveled over the countryside, once used to play together beside a well. As they grew up they both felt rather self-conscious

Once there were two people who separated for no very good reason. The woman, who had no doubt found it difficult to forget the past, sent the man this poem: 86

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Tales of Ise

about continuing the old relationship, but the boy had set his heart on marrying the girl, and she too was determined that she would be his wife, and refused to agree when her father tried to betroth her to someone else. The boy sent the girl this poem:

His heart swelled with love for her, and his visits to Kawachi ceased. On the rare occasions when he did go to Takayasu, he observed that the woman there, who had at first taken great pains to make a good appearance, now had abandoned all decorum. Watching as she seized the rice ladle and heaped her bowl to overflowing, he felt quite disenchanted, and at length he severed the connection completely. One day the woman in Kawachi composed this poem, gazing in the direction of Yamato: Kimi ga atari Though rain may fall, Mitsutsu o oran I forbid you, clouds, Ikomayama To veil Mount Ikoma, Kumo na kakushi so For I live only Ame wa furu tomo. To gaze toward my beloved.5

Tsutsui tsu no Izutsu ni kakeshi Maro ga take Suginikerashi na Imo mizaru ma ni.

My height that we measured At the well curb Has, it seems, Passed the old mark Since last I saw you.1

She replied, Kurabekoshi Furiwakegami mo Kata suginu Kimi narazu shite Tare ka agubeki.

The hair parted in the middle That I measured against yours Now hangs below my shoulders. For whom shall it be put up, If not for you ?

After many such poems had passed between them, their wishes came true and they became man and wife. Some years later the wife's father died, leaving her without support,2 and the husband, tired of living with her in poverty, took to visiting a woman in the district of Takayasu8 in Kawachi Province. The wife saw him off with so little apparent resentment that he began to suspect her of having a lover. One day, pretending to set out for Kawachi, he hid in the shrubbery and watched her. After making up her face with meticulous care, she recited this poem, staring into space: Kaze fukeba Okitsu shiranami Tatsutayama Yowa ni ya kimi ga Hitori koyuran.

Shall you be crossing Tatsutayama Quite alone by night ?4

She stared constantly in the man's direction. At length he sent word that he would come, but though she waited joyfully he failed to appear. After the same thing had happened several times, she sent him this poem: Kimi komu to Waiting in vain Iishi yogoto ni Night after night Suginureba For the visits you promise, Tanomanu mono no I no longer trust you, Koitsutsu zo furu. Yet my love lives on.8 But he never came again. 24 There was once a man who lived in a remote country district. One day he bade his wife an affectionate farewell and set off for the capital to try to enter the service of an aristocratic house. When three years had passed with no sign of him, his wife, tired of waiting, promised to marry someone 89

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who had been wooing her with great persistence. But on the very night she had selected for the first meeting, her husband appeared and knocked on the door to be let in. Instead of opening, she wrote this poem and passed it out: Aratama no Toshi no mitose o Machiwabite Tada koyoi koso Niimakura sure.

After three long years I have grown weary Of waiting— This very night I am to wed another.2

He replied, Azusayumi Mayumi tsukiyumi Toshi o hete Wa ga seshi ga goto Uruwashimi seyo.

Love your new husband As I have loved you All these years.8

Then he started to leave. His wife recited, Azusayumi No matter whether others Hikedo hikanedo Seek my love, Mukashi yori From the very beginning Kokoro wa kimi ni My heart has always Yorinishi mono o. Inclined toward you.4 But he set out all the same. His wife went after him in great distress but could not overtake him, and at length she fell prostrate beside a clear spring. Using blood from her finger, she inscribed this poem on a rock: Unable to detain Aiomowade The man who has left, Karenuru hito o Rejecting my love, Todomekane I feel that soon Wa ga mi wa ima zo I shall perish. Kiehatenumeru. And there she died. 90

25 Once a man sent this poem to a rather coy lady who seemed unable to make up her mind about meeting him: On nights when I sleep without Aki no no ni meeting you, Sasa wakeshi asa no My sleeves are wetter Sode yori mo Awade nuru yo zo Than when of a morning Hijimasarikeru. I have pressed through bamboo grass Crossing the fields in autumn.1 The coquettish lady responded, Mirume naki Wa ga mi o ura to Shiraneba ya Karenade ama no Ashi tayuku kuru.

In this bay There is no seaweed. Does he not know it— The fisherman who persists in coming Until his legs grow weary ?2

26 Once a man sent this poem as a reply to someone who commiserated with him because he had failed to win a lady living in the Fifth Ward: Omoezu Sode ni minato no Sawagu kana Morokoshibune no Yorishi bakari ni.

As when a great ship Coming into port Dashes waves against the shore, So has your letter drenched my sleeve With sudden tears.1 27

Once a man spent a single night at a lady's house and then did not go there again. The lady took the lid from the tub 9i

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where she washed her hands, gazed at her reflection in the water, and recited to herself,

30 Once a man sent this poem to a lady who would seldom agree to meet him: Our meetings are short Au koto wa As the spaces between Tama no o bakari The gems of a necklace. Omoete Longer-lasting indeed Tsuraki kokoro no Is your heartlessness.1 Nagaku miyuran.

Ware bakari Mono omou hito wa Mata mo araji To omoeba mizu no Shita ni mo arikeri.

No one else, I had thought, Could be so miserable as IYet there is another Under the water.

The man heard about the poem and composed this: t_* _ : Minakuchi ni Ware ya miyuran Kawazu sae Mizu no shita nite Morogoe ni naku.

:„_i

\r MI You will see .me In that pool, For even frogs Cry in pairs Under the water.1

28 Once a fickle woman left a man. He wrote Nadote kaku Au go katami ni Nariniken Mizu morasaji to Musubishi mono o.

Why is it now Impossible for us to meet— We who are bound together Like the strands of a close-woven basket Impermeable to water.1

31 Once when a man was passing the apartment of a certain palace attendant, the lady, who seems to have regarded him as an enemy, called out, "Very well, blade of grass! Wait and see what becomes of you!"1 He retorted, Tsumi mo naki Hito o ukeeba Wasuregusa Ono ga ue ni zo Ou to iu naru.

The lady's friends found it most provoking. 32

29 Once a man composed this poem when he was invited to a cherry blossom birthday celebration in the apartments of the Mother of the Crown Prince:1 Hana ni akanu Nageki wa itsu mo Seshikadomo Kyo no koyoi ni Niru toki wa nashi. 92

I have always grieved Not to have had enough Of the blossoms— Yet tonight I feel it As never before.2

Forgetting-grass, So one is told, Springs up around The person who curses A blameless man.2

Once a man sent this poem to a lady with whom he had been intimate several years earlier: Inishie no Shizu no odamaki Kurikaeshi Mukashi o ima ni Nasu yoshi mo gana.

Is there no way To make the past the present— To be repetitious as the revolutions Of a ball of yarn Wound for the shizu cloth of old P1

Apparently it made no impression. 93

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33

35

Once a man was paying visits to a lady who lived in Mubara District1 in the province of Settsu. On a certain occasion the lady seemed to be afraid that he would never come again. He recited,

Once a man sent this poem to a lady from whom he had involuntarily become estranged:

Ashibe yori Michikuru shio no Iyamashi ni Kimi ni kokoro o Omoimasu kana.

My love for you Ever increases, Like a salt tide Flooding in Across a reed-fringed shore.2

Her reply: Komorie ni Omou kokoro o Ika de ka wa Fune sasu sao no Sashite shirubeki.

Can I, like a boatman Sounding with his pole, Sound out the thoughts Concealed in a mind Secret as a hidden inlet ?3

Tama no o o Awao ni yorite Musubereba Taete no nochi mo Awamu to zo omou.

Our lives are intertwined Like the ends of a string of gems Fashioned in a loose braid— Though the knot be dissolved, It will surely be tied again.1

36 Once a man sent this to a lady who had accused him of forgetting her: Tani sebami Mine made haeru Tamakazura Taemu to hito ni Wa ga omowanaku ni.

Are we to call the lady's poem a creditable performance for someone living in the provinces ?

Why need you question A love that I would have Long-lived as a vine Creeping toward a mountain top From a narrow gorge p1

37 34 Once a man sent this poem to a hard-hearted lady: Ieba eni Iwaneba mune ni Sawagarete Kokoro hitotsu ni Nageku koro kana.

When I would speak of it, I cannot; When I resolve to say nothing, I am utterly distraught. These days I can but grieve In my innermost heart.1

He had, it would seem, quite lost his sense of shame. 94

Once a man was visiting a rather flirtatious lady. Perhaps because he did not quite trust her, he wrote, Ware narade Shitahimo toku na Asagao no Yukage matanu Hana ni wa ari tomo.

Though your affections be ephemeral As the morning glory's flower, Gone before sunset, Do not loosen your under-sash For anyone but me.1

Her reply: 95

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Tales of Ise Futari shite Musubishi himo o Hitori shite Aimiru made wa Tokaji to zo omou.

Until we meet again, Never shall I Loosen by myself The sash We tied together.2

38 Once a man went to call on Ki no Aritsune. Aritsune had gone off somewhere and was late in getting home. The man sent him this poem: Kimi ni yori Thanks to you, Omoinarainu I have learned somethingYo no naka no No doubt this feeling Hito wa kore o ya Of longing to see someone Koi to iuran. Is what people call love.1 Aritsune replied, Narawaneba Yo no hitogoto ni Nani o ka mo Koi to wa iu to Toishi ware shi mo.

How should I Have taught you ? I who through ignorance Have constantly asked others What love might be.

who was also there to view the procession, came up to the carriage and began to flirt with the lady he imagined to be alone inside. Presently he caught a firefly and thrust it into the carriage. The lady started to extinguish it lest she be seen by its light—whereupon the man who was with her recited, Idete inaba Kagiri narubemi Tomoshi kechi Toshi henuru ka to Naku koe o kike.

When the princess emerges It will be for the last time. You would do well to heed The voices that lament This light's untimely extinction.

Itaru replied, Ito aware Naku zo kikoyuru Tomoshi kechi Kiyuru mono to mo Ware wa shirazu na.

It is most affecting; I do indeed hear the weeping. But I am not aware That a light Has been extinguished/

It was a mediocre verse for a man of his reputation.8 Itaru was Shitago's grandfather. His behavior was scarcely what the princess would have wished it to be.6 40

39 Once a sovereign known as the Emperor of the Western Palace1 had a daughter, Princess Shushi, who died.2 On the night of the funeral a man who lived nearby drove out with a lady in her carriage to watch the procession. A long time passed with no sign of the coffin, and the man, feeling that his tears had shown his sympathy, decided to give up and go home. Just then the famous gallant Minamoto Itaru,8

¥>

Once a young man took a fancy to a girl who was really quite acceptable, but his parents, a conceited pair, decided to send the girl away before the attachment became serious —or so they said, for at first they did nothing but talk. The boy was unable to oppose them, since he was dependent on them and still had no strong will of his own, and the girl, being of low birth, was equally powerless; the two merely fell deeper and deeper in love. Quite abruptly the parents-

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise resolved to get rid of the girl. The boy had no way of stopping them, though he wept bitterly, and so she was carried off. The sobbing boy composed this poem: Idete inaba Tare ka wakare no Katakaran Arishi ni masaru Kyo wa kanashi mo.

It would not be hard To part from someone Who wished to leave, But how much my suffering Has increased today I1

Then he lost consciousness. His parents were terribly upset. They had, after all, spoken only through concern for his welfare, never dreaming that the affair was so serious— yet there he lay in a genuine faint. They offered agitated prayers to the gods and buddhas. Although the boy had fainted at sunset, it was the Hour of the Dog2 on the next day before he finally came around. Such were the depths of feeling that the young were once capable of. Sensibility of that order is not to be found nowadays even among older people. 41 Once there were two sisters, one married to an impoverished man of inferior rank and the other to a man of consequence. Toward the end of the Twelfth Month in a certain year, the wife of the low-ranking man washed his formal cloak and personally stretched it out to dry. She was very careful, but being unaccustomed to such menial labor she stretched the material too far and split the shoulder. There was nothing to be done; she could only sit and weep. When the man of high rank heard about it, he found her plight most affecting. He got hold of a handsome blue cloak1 and sent it to her with this poem: 98

Murasaki no Iro koki toki wa Me mo ham ni No naru kusaki zo Wakarezarikeru.

When the murasa\is hue Is strong and deep, One can distinguish No other plant On the vast plain.2

No doubt he was thinking of the poem about Musashi Plain.8 42 A certain man once exchanged vows with a lady he knew to be something of a flirt, and found her most attractive in spite of her reputation. He began to visit her constantly, always worrying about her fickleness and yet never able to give her up, for he felt that life would be insupportable without her. Once when he had been prevented from visiting her for two or three days, he sent this poem: Idete koshi Atodaniimada Kawaraji o Ta ga kayoiji to Ima wa naruran.

Who, I wonder, Treads your path While the very footprints Linger From my last visit.1 43

Once an emperor's son, Prince Kaya,1 took a liking to a girl and gave her a good position in his service. Presently another man began to make advances to her. There was still a third man who had been under the impression that the girl belonged to him. When he heard about the second man, he sent the girl this poem in a letter containing a drawing of a hototogisu: 99

*,-

Tales of he Hototogisu Na ga naku sato no Amata areba Nao utomarenu Omou mono kara.

Too many, hototogisu, Are the houses Where you sing; Though I love you, We are drifting apart.8

She tried to placate him with this: Nanomi tatsu Shide no taosa wa Kesa zo naku Iori amata to Utomarenureba.

This morning The rejected hototogisu Cries mournfully, Falsely accused of dwelling At too many cottages.*

It was then the Fifth Month.5 The man replied, Iori oki Shide no taosa wa Nao tanomu Wa ga sumu sato ni Koe shi taezu wa.

While you continue to sing At the house where I live, I shall still trust you, hototogisu, Though you dwell By many cottages

44 Once a man knew someone who was going out to the provinces. He decided to invite him to his house to say farewell, and also, since the person was a particular friend, to have his wife serve the wine. He further arranged to give him a lady's costume,1 and composed a poem for his wife to tie to the belt of the train: Idete yuku Kimi ga tame ni to Nugitsureba Ware sae mo naku Narinubeki kana. ioo

Since this train Has been taken off For you who depart, Should not you and I both Be free of misfortune ?2

Tales of he This is a most interesting poem; it should be read attentively and savored in silence.

45 Once there was a carefully reared girl who longed desperately to tell a certain man of her love for him. At length she fell ill—broken hearted, perhaps, because she could devise no way of letting him know—and as she lay dying she confessed her attachment. When her father learned of it he sent word to the man, weeping bitterly. The man hurried to the house, only to find the girl dead. Feeling strangely bereaved, he stayed to mourn for her. It was late in the Sixth Month and exceedingly hot.1 Music was performed in the evening to comfort the departed spirit, and as the night deepened a cool breeze began to stir. Fireflies danced high in the air. Staring out at the insects from where he lay, the man recited, Yuku hotaru Kumo no ue made Inubeku wa Akikaze fuku to Kari ni tsugekose.

Dancing fireflies, If you can soar Above the clouds, Tell the wild goose Of the autumnal breeze.2

Kuregataki Natsu no higurashi Nagamureba Sono koto to naku Mono zo kanashiki.

Lostinrevery Throughout this interminable Summer day, I have grown sad, Scarcely knowing why.3 46

Once a man had a friend to whom he was much attached. The two were always together and always on the best of 101

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Tales of Ise terms. But then the friend was obliged to go to the provinces, and they parted with many laments. After some time a letter came: "How long it has been since our last meeting! I am terribly afraid that you will have forgotten me. It is after all only human to forget someone who is never around." The man composed this poem and sent it to him: Mekaru to mo Omoenaku ni Wasuraruru Toki shi nakereba Omokage ni tatsu.

I cannot believe that you Are far away, For I can never forget you, And thus your face Is always before me.1

47 Once a man was eager to find a means of exchanging vows with a certain lady, but the lady, having heard that his affections were rather indiscriminately bestowed, grew if anything colder as time went on. She sent him this poem: Onusa no Hiku te amata ni Narinureba Omoedo e koso Tanomazarikere.

Many as the hands Pulling at sacred wands Are those that tug at you. I find you most attractive, But you are not to be trusted.1

His reply: Onusa to Na ni koso tatere Nagarete mo Tsui ni yoru se wa Ari to iu mono o.

I am indeed reputed To resemble a sacred wand— Yet when its drifting is done Is there not a shoal Where the wand comes to rest ?2 48

Once a man planned an entertainment for someone who was going away, but the guest failed to come. The man sent him this: 102

Ima zo shim Kurushiki mono to Hito matamu Sato o ba karezu Toubekarikeri.

Now that I know How hard it is to wait, I shall call faithfully At houses Where I am expected.1

49 Once a man, stirred by the beauty of his younger sister, composed this poem:1 Ura wakami Neyoge ni miyuru Wakakusa o Hito no musubamu Koto oshi zo omou.

How regrettable it is That someone else Will tie up The young grass So fresh and good for sleeping."

She replied, Hatsukusa no Nado mezurashiki Koto no ha zo Ura naku mono o Omoikeru kana.

Why do you speak of me In words novel as the first Grasses of spring ? Have I not always loved you Quite without reserve ?3

5° Once a man who was nettled by a lady's reproaches composed this poem: Tori no ko o To zutsu to wa Kasanu tomo Omowanu hito o Omou mono ka wa.

How can I love someone Who would care nothing for me Even were I able To pile up hens' eggs Ten high and ten wide p1

She replied, 103

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Tales of Ise Asatsuyu wa Kienokorite mo Arinubeshi Tare ka kono yo o Tanomihatsubeki.

Ue shi ueba Aki naki toki ya Sakazaran Hana koso chirame Ne sae kareme ya.

Of the morning dew An occasional drop May perhaps remain, But a relationship with you Is ephemeral indeed.2

52

Then he wrote, Fuku kaze ni Kozo no sakura wa Chirazu tomo Ana tanomigata Hito no kokoro wa.

Once a man sent someone a pheasant in return for a gift of decorated rice dumplings.1 His poem: You have trudged Ayame kari Kimi wa numa ni zo Through marshes Cutting sweet-flags, Madoikeru While I have gone forth to the Ware wa no ni idete fields. Karu zo wabishiki. Toilsome indeed, this hunting!2

That you should be trustworthy Is less likely Than that the winds Should have spared Last year's cherry blossoms.8

The lady's rejoinder: Yuku mizu ni Kazu kaku yori mo Hakanaki wa Omowanu hito o Omou narikeri.

To love Unloved Is more futile Than to write On a flowing stream.*

53 Once a man visited a lady whom he ordinarily found it difficult to meet. The two talked of many things, and presently a cock began to crow. The man composed this:

The man: Yuku mizu to Suguru yowai to Chiru hana to Izure mate cho Koto o kikuran.

Ika de ka wa Tori no nakuran Hito shirezu Omou kokoro wa Mada yo fukaki ni.

Flowing waters, Passing years, Scattering blossoms— Which of them will listen If someone cries "Wait" ?

In spite of their mutual accusations of infidelity, both were quite likely involved in secret affairs with other people. ' • ! '

51

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Once a man set out a chrysanthemum plant in someone1! garden. He composed this poem: 104

If it has been well planted, It will fail to bloom Only if autumn should fail to come, And though the petals scatter The roots will never die.1

Why does the cock Herald the dawn When the night is yet Deep as this love of mine, Unknown to others P1

54 Once a man sent this to a hard-hearted lady: Yukiyaranu Yumeji o tanomu Tamoto ni wa Amatsusora naru Tsuyu ya okuran.

Is it dew from heaven That wets the sleeve Of one seeking in vain To journey along The path of dreams P1 105

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55 Once it began to seem unlikely that a man would win a lady with whom he had fallen in love. He wrote, Omowazu wa Ari mo suramedo Koto no ha no Orifushi goto ni Tanomaruru kana.

It is true, I suppose, That you care nothing for me— And yet I feel hope Whenever I hear Your least word.1

56 Once a man was tortured by love day and night. When his suffering seemed beyond endurance he wrote, Wa ga sode wa My sleeve of course is not Kusa no iori ni A simple hut Aranedomo Thatched with grass— Kurureba tsuyu no Yet how the dew clings to it Yadori narikeri. As night closes in.1

57 Once a man sent this to an unresponsive lady with whom he was secretly in love: Koiwabinu Ama no karu mo ni Yadoru cho Warekara mi o mo Kudakitsuru kana.

Tormented by love, I break under strains self-imposed, Like the shell of the tvare\ara Clinging to seaweed The fisherfolk reap.1

establishment, and one day some of them caught sight of the man as he was superintending the rice harvest in his fields—it was after all a rural spot. The ladies came trooping in, calling, "Isn't this a rather odd occupation for a famous lover?" The man retreated in confusion to the privacy of an inside room, whereupon one of his tormenters recited this poem: Arenikeri Aware ikuyo no Yado nare ya Sumiken hito no Otozure mo senu.

Poor neglected house! No doubt it has seen Many generations pass And thus its former resident No longer cares to come here.3

They were by then clustered around the mansion itself. The man sent out this reply: The fiends who swarm around Mugura oite At the least opportunity— Aretaru yado no Uretaki wa They are what is disagreeable Kari ni mo oni no About the ruined house Sudaku narikeri. Choked with weeds.4 "Would you like us to pick up the gleanings for you ?"B the ladies asked next. He retorted, If I were to learn Uchiwabite That poverty impelled you Ochibo hirou to To pick up fallen ears, Kikamaseba I should be most happy Ware mo tazura ni To join you in the fields.8 Yukamashi mono o.

58

59

A man who was a great gallant once built himself a house at Nagaoka and took up residence there.1 Several very attractive ladies were in service at a neighboring imperial

Once a man took it into his head to live in the Eastern Hills.1 (What can he have been thinking about the capital?) He wrote this poem:

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Tales of Ise Sumiwabinu Ima wa kagiri to Yamazato ni Mi o kakusubeki Yado motometen.

I shall no longer Live here in misery. Let me seek shelter In some mountain village Where I can sink from sight.

Thus he left the capital. Presently he fell ill and lapsed into a deathlike coma. His people sprinkled his face with water, whereupon he revived and recited, Wa ga ue ni Tsuyu zo oku nam Ama no kawa To wataru f une no Kai no shizuku ka.

Something like dew Touches my face. Can it be spray from the oars Of the boat that crosses The Straits of the River of Heaven ?8 60

Once there was a man whose palace duties kept him so busy that his wife, tired of being neglected, ran off to another province with someone who had promised to treat her better. Some time later the first man was appointed Messenger to Usa.1 As he was journeying toward the shrine he learned that his former wife was now married to one of the local officials responsible for providing him with accommodations on the way. He gave orders that the lady was to serve his wine. "Otherwise I shall not drink it," he said. When she presented the cup, he took a tangerine from a dish of relishes and recited this poem: Satsuki matsu Hanatachibana no Ka o kageba Mukashi no hito no Sode no ka zo suru. 108

Scenting the fragrance Of tangerine flowers Blossoming in the Fifth Month, I recall the perfumed sleeves Of someone I loved.2

Tales of Ise The lady, deeply ashamed, became a nun and entered a ountain retreat. 61 nee when a certain man had journeyed to Tsukushi,1 he eard a lady say from behind a blind, "That fellow is a dyed-in-the-wool flirt." He recited, Somegawa o Wataramu hito no Ika de ka wa Iro ni naru cho Koto no nakaran.

When one crosses The "River of Dyes," Is there a way To prevent oneself From falling in love ?2

She replied, Na ni shi owaba Ada ni zo arubeki Tawarejima Nami no nureginu Kiru to iu nari.

Judged solely by name, "Flirtation Island" Were fickle indeed— But there it is simply a matter Of wave-drenched clothes.3

62 Once there was a woman whose husband had neglected her for years. Perhaps because she was not clever, she took the advice of an unreliable person and became a domestic in a provincial household. It happened one day that she served food to her former husband. That night the husband told the master of the house to send her to him. "Don't you know me?" he asked. Then he recited, Inishie no Nioi wa izura Sakurabana Kokeru kara to mo Narinikeru kana.

Where is the beauty Of yesteryear ? Of cherry blossoms This tree's branches Are now quite bare.1 109

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The woman, acutely embarrassed, made no reply. "Why don't you answer me?" he demanded. "I am blind and speechless with tears," she said. He recited, Kore ya kono Here is someone Ware ni au mi o Who has wished to be free Nogaretsutsu Of her ties to me. Toshitsuki furedo Much time has passed, Masarigao naki. Yet her lot is little improved.

Then he began to get ready to go out. The lady rushed home, bumping into brambles and briers, and retired to her bed. After a time Narihira arrived and began to peep in from a sheltered spot, just as she had done. She had stopped expecting him and was disconsolately composing herself for sleep. She recited,

He removed his cloak and gave it to her, but she left it and ran off—nobody knows where.

63 Once a lonely lady longed desperately to meet a man who would love her. Since it was not something she could talk about, she pretended to have had a certain dream, which she described to her three sons. Two of the sons made noncommittal replies and let the matter drop, but to her delight the youngest said, "This means that you are going to find a good husband." "Most men have little capacity for honest affection. If only I could arrange for her to meet Ariwara Narihira," the third son thought. One day when Narihira was on a hunting excursion, the boy intercepted him, caught hold of his horse's bridle, and poured out the story. Narihira found it so touching that he went to the lady's house and slept with her. But afterward he failed to reappear. At length the lady went to his house and peered in. He half glimpsed her and recited, Momotose ni The lady with thinning hair— Hitotose taranu But a year short Tsukumogami Of a hundred— Ware o kourashi Must be longing for me, Omokage ni miyu. For I seem to see her face.1 no

Samushiro ni Koromo katashiki Koyoi mo ya Koishiki hito ni Awade nomi nemu

Must I again tonight Spread a single sleeve On the narrow mat And sleep without My beloved ?2

Moved by pity, he spent the night with her. Most men show consideration for the women they love and disregard the feelings of the ones who fail to interest them. Narihira made no such distinctions.8

64 Once a man received some letters from a lady who showed no inclination to arrange a private meeting with him; furthermore he was not at all sure who she was. He sent her this poem: Fuku kaze ni Wa ga mi o nasaba Tamasudare Hima motometsutsu Irubeki mono o.

Were I but The whistling wind, Then might I seek you out And enter through a crack In those elegant blinds.1

Her reply: Toritomenu Kaze ni wa ari tomo Tamasudare Ta ga yurusaba ka Hima motomubeki.

Though you were the wind No hand can grasp, Who would permit you To find a crack In these blinds ? in

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65 Once there was a lady whom an emperor had noticed, taken into his service, and permitted to wear the forbidden colors.1 (She was his mother's cousin.) She became involved in an affair with a courtier from the Ariwara family2 —someone who was still a boy—and this youth, who had free access to the chambers used by the ladies in waiting, fell into the habit of seeking her out and monopolizing her company. "This kind of behavior is most improper and can only lead to the gravest difficulties for both of us; you must stop it," she said. He replied, Omou ni wa Shinoburu koto zo Makenikeru Au ni shi kaeba Sa mo araba are.

Caution has been vanquished By love— Let me but see you And I shall be content, Happen what may.8

If she retired to her private apartments, he would chase after her as usual, with no attempt at concealment, and when she retreated in confusion to her own home he visited her there, apparently considering the new arrangement even more convenient than the old. Everyone heard about it and found it most entertaining. He would return to the palace in the early hours of the morning, ignoring the stares of the Intendance Bureau functionaries," and toss his shoes well inside before entering.6 Fearful lest he lose his official position and be ruined if his indiscretions continued, he implored the gods and buddhas to make him fall out of love, but instead his passion became an obsession. Once he summoned diviners and priestesses, told them to prepare purification offerings to rid him of all affection for the lady, and went with them to the river, but after the purification his agony merely 112

increased—his passion was stronger than before. As he left the river he recited this poem: Koiseji to Alas! The gods have rejected Mitarashigawa ni The ritual of ablution Seshi misogi Performed at the Stream Kami wa ukezu mo Of Purification Narinikeru kana. To win surcease from love.6 The emperor was a most handsome man. Listening to him chant the sacred name of the Buddha with impressive reverence and dignity, the lady shed bitter tears. "What a cruel karma it is that binds me to someone else instead of letting me serve such a sovereign," she sobbed. In time the emperor learned of the affair and banished the youth.7 The lady's cousin, the emperor's mother, made the lady leave the palace, and shut her up in a back room to punish her. The weeping lady composed this poem in her prison: Ama no karu Mo ni sumu mushi no Warekara to Ne o koso nakame Yo o ba uramiji.

I weep aloud For my own fault, Blaming no other.8

Each night the youth returned from his place of exile, played his flute with great feeling, and sang melancholy ballads in a moving voice. The lady, listening from her back-room prison, knew that it must be her lover but had no way of meeting him. A poem came to her mind: Sari tomo to Omouran koso Kanashikere Aru ni mo aranu Mi o shirazu shite.

How pitiful! He comes hoping Against hope, Not knowing that I now Scarcely exist.9 "3

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Tales of Ise

The youth, frustrated in his attempts to see the lady, had no recourse but to continue his nightly pilgrimages. Back in his place of exile he wrote, >

traveled. After an overcast morning, the sky cleared around noon, and they saw fallen snow, pure and white, blanketing the treetops. Gazing at the scene, one of the company recited,

Itazura ni Yukite wa kinuru Monoyueni Mimaku hoshisa ni Izanawaretsutsu.

Though it be in vain— This going and coming— My longing to see her Draws me back Again and again.10

;

These things happened, one may assume, during the reign of the Mizunoo Emperor. "The emperor's mother" must mean the Empress from Somedono, or perhaps the Empress from the Fifth Ward.31

66 A man who owned property in the province of Settsu once went to a spot near Naniwa1 with his brothers and some friends. Gazing at the shore fringed with boats, he recited, Naniwazu o This morning at last Kesa koso mitsu no I behold Naniwa Harbor: i Ura goto ni Are those innumerable boats, Kore ya kono yo o I wonder, ? Umi wataru fune. The craft that journey wearily Through the sea of this world ?a The others, deeply moved, went home without compos? ing poems.

67 1

Around the Second Month of a certain year, a man set out with a group of companions on a pleasure jaunt to the province of Izumi. Mount Ikoma2 in Kawachi, swathed in restless, billowing clouds, slipped in and out of sight as they 114

Kino kyo Kumo no tachimai Kakurou wa Hana no hayashi o Ushi to narikeri.

It was through reluctance To reveal the woods in bloom That yesterday and today Clouds soared and swirled And the mountain hid itself.8

68 Once a man made a trip to the province of Izumi. As he traveled along the Beach of Sumiyoshi at Sumiyoshi Village in Sumiyoshi District,1 he dismounted again and again to sit quietly and enjoy the glorious view. "Let us compose poems using the phrase 'the Beach of Sumiyoshi,'" some* one proposed. The man recited, Kari nakite Kiku no hana saku Aki wa aredo Haru no umibe ni Sumiyoshi no hama.

In autumn the wild geese cry And chrysanthemums are in flower, Yet how pleasant to dwell By the sea in spring On the Beach of Sumiyoshi."

The others refused to attempt poems of their own.

69 Once a man went to the province of Ise as an Imperial Huntsman.1 The Ise Virgin's mother had sent word that he was to be treated better than the ordinary run of imperial representatives, and the Virgin accordingly looked after his needs with great solicitude, seeing him off to hunt 115

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Tales of Ise

in the morning and allowing him to come to her own residence when he returned in the evening.2 On the night of the second day of this hospitable treatment, the man suggested that they might become better acquainted. The Virgin was not unwilling, but with so many people about it was impossible to arrange a meeting in private. However, since the man was in charge of the hunting party, he had not been relegated to some distant quarter, but had been lodged rather close to the Virgin's own sleeping chamber, and so the Virgin went to his room around eleven o'clock that night, after the household had quieted down. He was lying on his bed wide awake, staring out into the night. When he saw her by the faint light of the moon, standing with a little girl in front of her, he led her joyfully into the bedchamber; but though she stayed from eleven o'clock until two-thirty, she took her leave without exchanging vows with him. The man, bitterly disappointed, spent a sleepless night. The next morning, despite his impatience, he could not very well send a message, and was obliged to wait anxiously for word from the Virgin. Soon after dawn she sent this poem without an accompanying letter: Kimi ya koshi Did you, I wonder, come here, Ware ya yukikemu Or might I have gone there ? Omoezu I scarcely know . . . Yume ka utsutsu ka Was it dream or reality— Nete ka samete ka. Did I sleep or wake ?s

Then he went off on a hunting excursion. As he galloped over the plain his thoughts strayed to the coming night. Might he not hope to meet the Virgin as soon as the others had gone to bed ? But word of his presence had reached the governor of the province, who was also in charge of the Virgin's affairs, and that official proceeded to entertain him at a drinking party that lasted all night. It was impossible to see the Virgin, and since he was to leave at dawn for Owari Province there could be no further opportunity, even though he was quite frantic with longing, as indeed was the Virgin. As dawn approached, the Virgin sent him a farewell cup of wine with a poem inscribed on the saucer. He picked up the vessel and examined it. Kachibito no Since ours was a relationship no Wataredo nurenu deeper E ni shi areba Than a creek too shallow To wet a foot-traveler's garb . . .

Shedding tears of distress, he sent her this: Kakikurasu I too have groped Kokoro no yami ni In utter darkness. Madoiniki Can you not determine tonight Yume utsutsu to wa Which it might have been— Koyoi sadameyo. Whether dream or reality ?* 116

The last two lines were missing. He took a bit of charcoal from a pine torch and supplied them: Mata Ausaka no I shall surely again cross Seki wa koenan. Osaka Barrier.5 At daybreak he set out toward the province of Owari. The Virgin was the one who served during the reign of Emperor Seiwa; she was a daughter of Emperor Montoku and a sister of Prince Koretaka.8 70 Once a man lodged at Oyodo Crossing1 on his way back from a mission as Imperial Huntsman. He recited this poem to one of the Ise Virgin's child attendants: 117

Tales of Ise Mirume karu Kata ya izuko zo Sao sashite Ware ni oshieyo Ama no tsuribune.

Point with your oar, Fishing boat, And show me Where to reap The seaweed called "Seeing.' 71

Once a man visited the Ise Virgin1 as an imperial envoy. One of the princess's ladies, who was rather romantically inclined, took it upon herself to send him this poem: Chihayaburu To see this person Kami no igaki mo From the imperial court, Koenubeshi I should be willing Omiyabito no To cross the sacred fence Mimaku hoshisa ni. Of the mighty gods.2 His reply: Koishiku wa Kite mo miyo kashi Chihayaburu Kami no isamuru Michi naranaku ni.

If you are so inclined, Pray come, For the mighty gods Forbid no one To travel the path of love.8

Tales of Ise Uramite nomi mo Kaeru nami kana.

For they come no closer than the beach And then go back again.1

73 Once a man wrote this, thinking of a lady to whom he could not so much as address a message, even though he had managed to find out where she was living: Me ni wa mite Te ni wa torarenu ^ Tsuki no uchi no Katsura no gotoki Kimi ni zo arikeru.

My love is like The cinnamon tree That grows on the moon— Though one may see her She is untouchable.1

74 Once a man felt that he had been shabbily treated by a certain lady. He wrote, You and I are separated Iwane f umi By no craggy mountains Kasanaru yama ni Rising one above the other— Aranedomo Yet how many are the miserable Awanu hi oku days Koiwataru kana. I must spend without seeing you.1

72

75

There was once a man who had been unable to arrange a second meeting with a certain lady in Ise, and who thus felt exceedingly disgruntled as he prepared to depart for another province. The lady sent him this poem:

Once a man proposed to a lady that he take her to live with him in the province of Ise. Her reply was more discouraging than anything she had thus far said: Though we have not exchanged Oyodo no vows, Hama ni ou cho The pleasure of seeing you Miru kara ni Has made me quite content.1 Kokoro wa naginu Katarawanedomo.

Oyodo no Matsu wa tsuraku mo Aranaku ni

118

The pine of Oyodo Is not inaccessible; The resentful waves are them- 1 selves to blame, r

119

Tales of Ise He wrote, Sode nurete Ama no karihosu Watatsuumi no Miru o au nite Yamamu to ya suru.

Do you propose merely To substitute Seeing For meeting?2

Who is to say ? If we continue To see one another, Something may come of it.

The man: Namida ni zo Nuretsutsu shiboru Yo no hito no Tsuraki kokoro wa Sode no shizuku ka.

Wringing my tear-drenched sleeves, I wonder if perhaps Your icy heart Has been transformed Into those drops of moisture/

She was indeed a most unapproachable lady. 76

Once in the days when the Empress from the Second Ward 1 was still known as the Mother of the Crown Prince, she made a pilgrimage to the shrine of her ancestral deity.2 When presents were distributed to the people in her party, a certain elderly Imperial Guards officer8 received his gift directly from her carriage. He composed this poem: 120

Ohara ya Oshio no yama mo Kyo koso wa Kamiyo no koto mo Omoiizurame.

On this auspicious day The divinity of Mount Oshio at Ohara Will surely remember What happened long ago In the Age of the Gods.4

Perhaps she felt a pang of sorrow—but that is something we have no way of knowing.5

The lady: Iwama yori Ouru mirume shi Tsurenaku wa Shio hi shio michi Kai mo arinan.

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77 During the reign of the Tamura Emperor,1 there was an imperial consort called Takakiko.2 The lady died, and Buddhist services were held for her at Anjoji Temple.3 Offerings presented by various people, a thousand or more in all, were displayed on branches of trees, which were set in front of the hall, creating the effect of a sudden invasion of forested hills. After the sacred texts had been expounded, Fujiwara Tsuneyuki,4 the Captain of the Right, assembled a group of poets and called for poems that would commemorate the ceremonies while evoking the atmosphere of spring. The aged Commander of the Right Horse Bureau5 mistook the artificial trees for real ones and recited, Yama no mina Utsurite kyo ni Au koto wa Haru no wakare o Tou to narubeshi.

That all the mountains Have moved To attend today's rites Is surely because they mourn This springtime parting.8

His poem no longer strikes anyone as particularly praiseworthy. Possibly it impressed people at the time because it was better than the others. 121

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i

78 1

Once there was an imperial consort called Takakiko. She died, and Forty-ninth Day ceremonies2 were held for her at Anjoji Temple.8 On his way back from the services, a Captain of the Right named Fujiwara Tsuneyuki* went to the Yamashina6 residence of a certain monk-prince8 who had a most interesting garden with an artificial waterfall and stream. "For years I have admired and respected you from a distance," Tsuneyuki said to the prince, "but I have never placed myself at your immediate disposal. May I offer my services tonight?" The prince, greatly pleased, began to make arrangements for Tsuneyuki's entertainment, and Tsuneyuki excused himself to consult with his attendants. "I should like to do something rather out of the ordinary to mark my first service to the prince," he said. "When the emperor was preparing to visit the Third Ward,7 someone gave my father a handsome rock from the Beach of Chisato8 in Kii Province, but it arrived too late for the occasion and was deposited in a watercourse facing one of the ladies' apartments. Since the prince likes gardens, I shall give it to him." He sent some of his escorts and attendants to fetch the rock, and presently they returned bearing it. It was an even finer specimen than he had heard. Merely to say of such an object, "Here it is; take it," would, he thought, be tasteless. He called on his attendants to write poems, selected the composition of the Commander of the Right Horse Bureau, and scraped away the green moss from the rock until the Commander's words stood out like the raised design on a piece of lacquerware.9 Then he presented it to the prince. 122

Akanedomo Iwa ni zo kauru Iro mienu Kokoro o misemu Yoshi no nakereba.

Inadequate though it be, This rock must represent Those feelings that by their nature Have no color to arrest the eye And thus cannot be made visible.

79 Once a daughter of a certain house1 bore an imperial prince. Among the poems composed for the birth celebrations was this one, written by the baby's elderly great-uncle: Wa ga kado ni Now that a mighty bamboo Chihiro aru kage o Has been planted Uetsureba At our gate, Natsu fuyu tare ka We shall all find shelter Kakurezarubeki. Summer and winter.3 The child was Prince Sadakazu. People said at the time that he was the Middle Captain's son.8 The mother was the daughter of Middle Counselor Yukihira, the Middle Captain's elder brother.4 80 Once there was a man, rather down on his luck, who owned a flowering wisteria vine. On a drizzly day late in the Third Month, he decided to pick some of the blossoms and send them off as a gift to a certain personage. He composed this poem: Nuretsutsu zo Though I got wet, Shiite oritsuru I was determined to pluck them, Toshi no uchi ni Mindful Ham wa ikuka mo That of this year Araji to omoeba. But few spring days remain.1 123

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»

81 A certain Minister of the Left1 once lived in a very interesting house on the bank of the Kamo River near Rokujo Avenue. Late in the Tenth Month one year, when the white chrysanthemums had taken on a reddish tinge and all the trees and bushes blazed in autumn hues, the minister invited some imperial princes to visit him for a night of wine and music. As dawn approached, the guests fell to composing poems in praise of the mansion's elegance. A humble old fellow who had been creeping about below the veranda recited this after the others had finished: Shiogama ni Itsu ka kinikemu Asanagi ni Tsuri suru fune wa Koko ni yoranan.

When might I have come To Shiogama ? How pleasant it would be Were fishing boats to approach In the morning calm.2

A traveler to Michinoku Province finds countless unusual and intriguing places. In all the sixty and more provinces of our country there is nothing quite like Shiogama; thus to praise the host's garden, the old man made use of the lines, "When might I have come / To Shiogama?" 82 There was once an imperial prince named Koretaka.1 He owned a house at Minase, beyond Yamazaki,2 where he went each year when the cherry trees were in full bloom, always taking with him a man who served as Commander of the Right Horse Bureau. (It was so long ago that I have forgotten the man's name.) Though the prince would go out hawking during these visits, the hunts themselves did 124

Tales of Ise not greatly interest him, and were indeed little more than pretexts for sipping wine and composing verses. On one excursion, he noticed some exceptionally lovely cherry blossoms at the Nagisa House in Katano.3 He and some of the others dismounted, seated themselves under the trees, decorated their caps with sprays of flowers, and began to compose poems. The Commander of the Right Horse Bureau recited, Yo no naka ni Taete sakura no 'Nakariseba Haru no kokoro wa Nodokekaramashi.

If this were but a world To which cherry blossoms Were quite foreign, Then perhaps in spring ^ Our hearts would know peace.

Someone else retorted, Chireba koso Itodo sakura wa Medetakere Ukiyo ni nani ka Hisashikarubeki.

It is precisely because Cherry blossoms scatter That we find them appealing. Does anything endure for long In this world of sorrows ?5

At dusk, just after they had left the trees to ride in the direction of Minase, the rest of the prince's attendants came over the fields toward them with servants bearing wine, and the party continued together, looking about for an attractive spot in which to drink. Presently they arrived at a place called Amanogawa,8 and there the Commander of the Right Horse Bureau started to offer the prince a cup. "When you present the wine," the prince said, "recite a poem on the theme 'Coming to Amanogawa after a hunt at Katano.'" The Commander recited, 125

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise Karikurashi Tanabatatsume ni Yado karamu Ama no kawara ni Ware wa kinikeri.

Having hunted until dark, Let us borrow a lodging From the Weaver Maid, For we have come to the banks Of the River of Heaven.7

After the prince had chanted the poem several times without hitting on a reply, Ki no Aritsune,8 who was one of the party, responded thus: Hitotose ni Hitotabi kimasu Kimi mateba Yado kasu hito mo Araji to zo omou.

There is, I suspect, No other man Who will be granted a lodging By the maiden who awaits Her lover's yearly visit.9 ..

Back at the mansion, they drank and spun yarns far into the night. When the prince, somewhat befuddled, finally prepared to retire, the eleven-day-old moon was just ready to disappear behind the hills. The Commander of the Right Horse Bureau recited, Akanaku ni Madaki mo tsuki no Kakururu ka Yama no ha nigete Irezu mo aranan.

Must the moon disappear In such haste, Leaving us still unsatisfied ? Would that the mountain rim might flee And refuse to receive her.10

Ki no Aritsune answered for the prince: Oshinabete Mine mo taira ni Narinanamu Yama no ha naku wa Tsuki mo iraji o. 126

Would that all peaks Everywhere Might become flat, For without ridges The moon could not hide.11

83 Once an elderly Commander of the Right Horse Bureau1 went along on one of Prince Koretaka's frequent hunting excursions to Minase.2 The prince returned to his palace in the capital a few days later, but instead of dismissing the Commander (who had intended to see him home and then go to his own house), he detained him, saying that he wanted to drink with him and give him a present. The Commander, impatient to be off, recited, Makura tote Kusa hikimusubu Koto mo seji Aki no yo to dani Tanomarenaku ni.

I shall pull up No grasses to bind Into a pillow. It is not as though one might expect An autumn night.. . 8

(It was late in the Third Month.) Nevertheless, the prince stayed up the whole night. Such was the manner in which this Commander made himself useful to the prince; but one day, while he was still in constant attendance at the palace, he was astonished to learn that his patron had become a monk. When the First Month came around, he resolved to go and pay his respects to him at Ono,4 a place blanketed with snow at the foot of Mount Hiei.6 With much difficulty he made his way to the hermitage, and found the prince looking bored and forlorn.6 He lingered on and on, reminiscing about the past; but though he would have liked to remain still longer, his official responsibilities obliged him to start back at nightfall. As he set out he recited, 127

Tales of he Wasurete wa Yume ka to zo omou Omoiki ya Yuki f umiwakete Kimi o mimu to wa.

When for an instant I forget, How like a dream it seems... Never could I have imagined That I would plod through snowdrifts To see my lord.7

He went back to the capital in tears.

84 Once there was a man of rather low rank whose mother was an imperial princess.1 The mother lived at Nagaoka,2 and since the son was in imperial service at the capital, he found it hard to visit her as often as he would have liked. He was her only child, and she loved him dearly.3 In the Twelfth Month of a certain year a letter came from her; it was, according to the messenger, a matter of the utmost urgency. In great alarm the man opened it and read this poem: Oinureba Saranu wakare no Ari to ieba Iyoiyo mimaku Hoshiki kimi kana.

More than ever I yearn to see you, For old age is said to bring A parting None can evade.4

Weeping bitterly, the son wrote, Yo no naka ni Saranu wakare no Naku mo gana Chiyo mo to inoru Hito no ko no tame. 128

For the sake of sons Who pray that their parents May live a thousand years, Would that in this world There were no final partings.6

Tales of Ise

85 Once there was a man who called on his former patron, a Buddhist monk, during the First Month of each year. He had attended this personage since his childhood,1 and though he was now in service at court and could not visit him regularly, he made his annual pilgrimage with undiminished loyalty. One year the hermitage was crowded with gentlemen and monks, all former attendants of the owner, and since the New Year was a special occasion the host served wine, while outside a heavy snow fell hour after hour. Somewhat tipsily, the company began to compose verses on the theme "Snowbound." The man of whom I speak recited, Omoedomo It pleases me Mi o shi wakeneba To see the snow Mekare senu Fall and fall, and pile in drifts, Yuki no tsumom zo For though I think of you always, Wa ga kokoro nam. A man's body cannot be split in two.3 The prince, deeply moved, took off his robe and gave it to him.8

86 Once a very young man and a young girl fell in love, but since both were afraid of their parents, they concealed their relationship and finally broke it off altogether. Some years later the man sent the girl this poem—perhaps because one of them wanted to revive the old affair. Ima made ni There is, I suppose, no one Wasurenu hito wa Who would still remember, Yo ni mo araji Now that years have passed Ono ga samazama And each has gone Toshi no henureba. His own way.1 129

Tales of he

Tales of Ise Both the man and the girl were by then in service in the same imperial household.

87 Once a man went to stay on an estate that he owned at the village of Ashiya, in Mubara District1 in Settsu, the very one described in the old poem, Ashinoya no Nada no shioyaki Itoma nami Tsuge no ogushi mo Sasazu kinikeri.

Tending salt-fires by the wild sea Fringed with reed-thatched huts, The fisher girls have no leisure Even to dress their hair With simple wooden combs.2

(From this the place came to be called Ashiya-no-nada, "Sea Bordered by Reed-thatched Huts.") The man held a minor official post, which involved no onerous duties, and certain Assistant Guards Commanders used the connection as an excuse for joining him.8 His older brother was a Guards Commander.* One day as the gentlemen were cantering on horseback across the beach in front of the host's house, with no particular destination in mind, someone proposed an ascent into the mountains for a view of Nunobiki Falls.5 The falls were spectacular—a rock face 200 feet high and 50 feet across, swathed, it seemed, in white silk. From the top jutted a rock the size of a straw cushion,6 against which the rushing waters dashed and shattered in cascades of globules as big as tangerines and chestnuts. The host called for waterfall poems, and the Guards Commander recited, Wa ga yo o ba Kyo ka asu ka to Matsu kai no Namida no taki to Izure takaken. 130

Which, I wonder, is higher— This waterfall or the fall of my tears As I wait in vain, Hoping today or tomorrow To rise in the world.7

Next the host composed this: Nukimidaru Hito koso arurashi Shiratama no Ma naku mo chiru ka Sode no sebaki ni.

It looks as though someone Must be unstringing Those clear cascading gems. Alas! My sleeves are too narrow To hold them all.8

The others seem to have been much amused. They all praised the poem and refused to go on with their versifying. The return journey was long, and twilight was falling as they reached the dwelling that had belonged to Mochiyoshi, the late Minister of the Imperial Household.9 Gazing ahead toward the Ashiya house, they saw the fires of thickly clustered fishing craft. The host recited, Haruru yo no Might they be the clear night's stars, Hoshi ka kawabe no Or fireflies by the river bank, Hotaru kamo Or perhaps fires Wa ga sumu kata no Kindled by the fisherfoik Ama no taku hi ka. Near my dwelling ?10 So they returned. During the night the waves reared and tossed, whipped by a south wind, and early the next morning servant girls went out to gather the floating seaweed that had been washed ashore. The lady of the house arranged some on a pedestal tray and presented it to the guests, covered with an oak leaf on which she had scribbled this poem: Watatsumi no Kazashi ni sasu to Iwau mo mo Kimi ga tame ni wa Oshimazarikeri.

For these lords The god of the sea Has gladly relinquished The seaweed he treasures To adorn his head.11 131

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How are we to judge this country-dweller's poem ? Was it good or bad ?

88 Once a group of friends, no longer very young, were admiring the moon together. One of them recited, v Okata wa Tsuki o mo medeji Korezokono Tsumoreba hito no Oi to naru mono.

As a general thing I have but little heart For praise of the glorious moon Whose every circuit Brings old age closer.1

*

Once a man of quite respectable rank had for many years been hopelessly in love with a lady whose status was higher than his. Were I to die Of this hidden love, What innocent god Would be subjected To unjust accusations P1 90 Once there was a man who for some time had been trying desperately to win an unresponsive lady. Moved perhaps by pity, the lady at length agreed to receive him on the following night with only a screen between them. The man was overjoyed, but he could not help worrying lest she change her mind. He sent her this poem attached to a gorgeous spray of cherry blossoms: 132

Alas! Could one but feel certain That the cherry blossoms So radiant today Would still be the same Tomorrow night.

No doubt his fears were justified.

91

89

Hito shirezu Ware koishinaba Ajiki naku Izure no kami ni Nakinaosen.

Sakurabana Kyo koso kaku mo Niou tomo Ana tanomigata Asu no yo no koto.

Once there was a man who had been much depressed merely by the passage of time.1 Toward the end of the Third Month he composed this poem: Oshimedomo Haru no kagiri no Kyo no hi no Yiigure ni sae Narinikeru kana.

With all my heart I willed it otherwise, Yet now it has grown dark On this, The last day of spring.2 92

Once a man, deeply in love, journeyed time and again to the neighborhood where a certain lady lived, but was always obliged to go home without seeing her. He could not even send her a letter. At length he wrote this poem: Ashibe kogu Tananashiobune Ikusotabi Yukikaeruran Shiru hito mo nami.

How many dozens of times The little boat, Rowing among the reeds, Goes and returns Unknown to anyone.1

93 Once a man of humble position fell in love with a lady who belonged to the very highest rank. Can it be supposed 133

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Tales of Ise that he had cause for optimism ? He thought of her waking and sleeping, and one day, feeling utterly wretched, he composed this poem: Onaona Omoi wa subeshi Nazoe naku Takaki iyashiki Kurushikarikeri.

One should love According to one's station, For bitter it is indeed To join the extremes Of high and low.1

f*

The lady's reply: Chiji no aki Hitotsu no haru ni Mukawame ya Momiji mo hana mo Tomo ni koso chire.

Can a thousand autumns Equal a single spring ? Yet when it comes to scattering There is little difference Between maple leaves and cherry blossoms.2

95 Even in earlier times, it seems, such unhappy attach ments were not uncommon. 94 Once there was a man who for some reason stopped visiting a certain lady. She formed another alliance, but since she had borne him a child he continued to send her an occasional letter, though with no great display of ardor. One day he asked her to paint him a picture—she was something of an artist—but she replied that her new husband was with her just then. After first one day and then a second had passed with no sign of the painting, he wrote in considerable irritation, "It is, I suppose, quite natural that you have not yet bothered to do as I wished, but you will understand that I find it annoying." He sent along a sarcastic poem (the season was autumn): Akinoyowa Haruhi wasururu Mono nare ya Kasumi ni kiri ya Chie masaruran. 134

Autumn nights, it appears, Have made you forget The days of spring— Else why should fog be deemed So vastly superior to mist P1

(

Once there was a man who was in the service of the Empress from the Second Ward. For some time he had been in love with a lady in waiting whom he encountered constantly, and finally he begged to be allowed to visit her, keeping her curtains between them if necessary, "for I should like to try to clear up a matter that has been very much on my mind." The lady received him, taking great pains not to be observed. He chatted awhile and then recited this poem: Hikoboshi ni Koi wa masarinu Ama no kawa Hedatsuru seki o Ima wa yameteyo.

More cruel than the Herdsman Star's Is the love that consumes me. Pray give it up now— The barrier that stands between us Like the River of Heaven.1

Deeply affected, the lady drew aside the curtains.

96 Once there was a man who wooed a lady with such persistence that she gradually began to return his affection. (Not being made of stone or wood, she could scarcely have 135

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helped feeling sorry for him.) Unfortunately, it was by then the middle of the Sixth Month, and a boil or two had appeared on the lady's skin. "Though I think of no one but you, I am suffering from a boil or two just now—and then, too, it is so frightfully hot. I promise that we shall meet as soon as the autumn winds begin to blow," she sent him word. But while she was waiting for autumn to arrive, some of the people around her started to complain that she intended to go off with the man, and her older brother suddenly came to take her away. The lady ordered a servant to gather some maple leaves that were just turning red. Then she composed a poem:

the minister's fortieth birthday, held at the Ninth Ward House,2 an elderly Middle Captain composed this poem:

Aki kakete Iishinagara mo Aranaku ni Ko no ha furishiku E ni koso arikere.

"In autumn . . . " I said, But it was not to be— Our relationship has proved no deeper Than a shallow creek Strewn with fallen leaves.1

She scribbled the poem on a bit of paper, attached it to the leaves, and left it behind as she set out. "If anyone comes from there, give him this," she said. To this very day no one knows what became of her—whether she was happy or miserable, or even where she went to live. The man is reported to have clapped his hands and uttered bloodcurdling imprecations. "We shall soon learn," he said, "whether one human being has the power to injure another through curses."

97 There was once a personage known as the Minister of State from Horikawa.1 On the day of a banquet celebrating 136

Sakurabana Chirikaikumore Oiraku no Komu to iu nam Michi magau ga ni.

Scatter in clouds, Cherry blossoms, That you may hide the path By which old age Is said to approach.*

98 One year during the Ninth Month, a man who served a certain Chancellor1 attached a pheasant to a branch of artificial plum blossoms and presented it to his master with this poem: Wa ga tanomu Kimi ga tame ni to Oru hana wa Toki shi mo wakanu Mono ni zo arikeru.

Just as my devotion Is ever unchanging, So to these blossoms Plucked for my lord All seasons are alike.

The Chancellor, pleased by the conceit, gave the messenger a reward.

99 On the day of an archery meet at the riding grounds of the Imperial Guards of the Right, a certain Middle Captain glimpsed a lady's face through the silk curtains of a carriage opposite him. He sent her this poem: Bewitched by someone Mizu mo arazu Not unseen Mi mo senu hito no Nor yet quite seen, Koishiku wa Must I to no purpose spend this day Aya naku kyo ya Lost in melancholy revery ?x Nagamekurasan. 137

Tales of Ise Her reply: Shiru shiranu Nani ka aya naku Wakite iwan Omoi nomi koso Shirube narikere.

Why for no reason Must one construct distinctions Between knowing and not knowing ? The heart alone Can serve as guide.2

Later he found out who she was. IOO

One day as a man was walking along the corridor between the Koroden and the Seiryoden,1 a hand thrust out a sprig of greenery from inside a high-ranking lady's apartment. "Can forgetting-grass2 be called 'herb of remembrance' ?"a a voice asked. He took the plant and replied, Wasuregusa Ouru nobe to wa Miruramedo Ko wa shinobu nari Nochi mo tanoman.

Though the fields may seem O'ergrown with forgetting-grass, \ This is the herb of remembrance— And remembering, I look to the future.4 IOI

There was once a man called Ariwara Yukihira, the Commander of the Military Guards of the Left.1 A group of courtiers, learning that Yukihira's household had produced some excellent wine, visited him one day to sample it, and he entertained them with a feast at which Fujiwara Masachika, the Middle Controller of the Left, was designated as guest of honor.2 It happened that Yukihira, whose tastes were most refined, had arranged several sprays of flowers in a vase, among them a remarkable cluster of wisteria blooms over three feet long. The guests began to compose poems about the wisteria, and were just finishing when the i38

Tales of Ise host was joined by his younger brother, who had been told of the festivities. They caught hold of the newcomer, demanding a poem. At first he tried to decline, since he knew little of the art of poetry, but they refused to let him off. He recited, Saku hana no Longer than ever before Shita ni kakururu Is the wisteria's shadow— Hito o omi How many are those Arishi ni masaru Who shelter beneath Fuji no kage kamo. Its blossoms !3 "What is the point of your poem?" someone asked. "I was thinking about the Chancellor's brilliant career and the splendid accomplishments of other members of the Fujiwara family," he replied. The critics were satisfied. 102

There was once a man who understood human emotions rather well, even though he was not much of a poet.1 He sent this poem to a high-born lady (one of his kinswomen) who had become a nun and gone to a remote mountain village to get away from the capital and its society: Somuku tote One cannot hope to ride a cloud Kumo ni wa noranu Merely by renouncing the world— Mono naredo And yet, I am told, Yo no uki koto zo One is no longer afflicted Yoso ni naru cho. By the sorrows of life.2 That was the princess who had served as Ise Virgin.8 103 There was once a man, most honorable, upright, and faithful, who served the Fukakusa Emperor.1 Through some misunderstanding, perhaps, he exchanged vows with a 139

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Tales of Ise

lady favored by one of the imperial princes. The next morning he sent her this poem:

The man considered it a most discourteous reply, but nevertheless his love for her increased.

Nenuru yo no Yume o hakanami Madoromeba Iya hakana ni mo Narimasaru kana.

106 A certain man, off on an excursion with some imperial princes, once composed this poem on a bank of the Tatsuta River:1

Grieved by the insubstantiality Of last night's dream, I seek to recapture it By dozing off again— Yet it grows ever more unreal.2

Hardly an admirable poem! 104 Once there was a lady who for no very good reason had renounced the world. But though she had put on a nun's somber garb, she had, it seems, retained an interest in mundane things, for she went out one day to view the Kamo Festival.1 A certain man sent her this poem: Yo o umi no Ama to shi hito o Miru kara ni Me kuwaseyo to mo Tanomaruru kana.

Weary of the world, You have become a nun— Yet seeing you a spectator here I cannot but hope For a sidelong glance.2

(It is said that the lady was the Ise Virgin, and that she stopped watching and went home after the man sent the poem to her carriage.)3 105 Once a man sent word to a lady, "I shall surely die if things continue thus." She answered, Shiratsuyu wa Kenaba kenanan Kiezu tote Tama ni nukubeki Hito mo araji o. 140

If the clear dew must vanish Then let it vanish. Even were it to linger, No one would wish To string the drops like gems.1

Chihayaburu Kamiyo mo kikazu Tatsutagawa Karakurenai ni Mizu kukuru to wa.

Unheard of Even in the age Of the mighty gods— These deep crimson splashes Dyed in Tatsuta's waters.2 107

Once a Private Secretary named Fujiwara Toshiyuki1 began to court a girl who served a certain nobleman. The girl was still too young to write a decent letter or express herself properly—much less compose a poem—and so her master wrote something for her to copy out and send. Toshiyuki, quite dazzled, responded with this poem: Tsurezure no Nagame ni masaru Namidagawa Sode nomi hijite Au yoshi mo nashi.

Unable to meet you, I lose myself in idle revery, My sleeves drenched with tears Abundant as the waters of a river Swollen by long rain.2

The girl's master composed her reply: Asami koso Sode wa hizurame Namidagawa Mi sae nagaru to Kikaba tanomamu.

Shallow indeed the river of tears That drenches sleeves alone! I shall believe in your sincerity When I hear that you yourself Are being carried away.3 141

Tales of he

Tales of he Toshiyuki is said to have been so impressed that he rolled up the poem and put it in his letter box, where it remains to this day. Somewhat later, after Toshiyuki had succeded in winning the girl, he sent her a letter: "I am much disturbed to see that it seems likely to rain. If I am lucky it won't." The girl's master wrote this poem for her to send him: Kazukazu ni Omoi omowazu Toigatami Mi o shiru ame wa Furi zo masareru.

I have been powerless to gauge The measure of your love, But harder and harder Falls the rain That must reveal the truth.4

Toshiyuki went rushing off to see her without even stopping to put on a raincoat or hat, and arrived soaking wet. 108 Once a lady who was embittered by a man's lack of affection fell into the habit of repeating this poem: Kaze fukeba Towa ni nami kosu Iwa nare ya Wa ga koromode no Kawaku toki naki.

These sleeves of mine, Never dry— One might think them rocks Eternally submerged By wind-tossed waves.1

The man felt rather guilty when he heard about it. He sent her this: Yoi goto ni Kawazu no amata Naku ta ni wa Mizu koso masare Ame wa furanedo. 142

Though no rain falls, Water rises in the fields Where the singing frogs Wail in doleful chorus Night after night.2

109 Once a man sent this to a friend who had lost someone he loved: Hana yori mo Hito koso ada ni Narinikere Izure o saki ni Koin to ka mishi.

Which had you thought To mourn first— The cherry blossoms Or that lady, shorter-lived Than the flowers themselves P1

no A certain man was visiting a lady in secret. Once she sent him word that he had appeared to her in a dream that night, whereupon he replied, It must have been my spirit Omoiamari Venturing out alone Idenishi tama no Because I miss you so. Aru naran If you should see it later on, Yo f ukaku mieba Pray cast a spell and catch it. Tamamusubi seyo. Ill

Once a man sent this poem to a high-born lady, supposedly as an expression of sympathy prompted by the death of someone close to her: Inishie wa Ari mo ya shiken Ima zo shiru Mada minu hito o Kouru mono to wa.

Such things perhaps occurred In days gone by, But only now have I learned That a man can love someone He has never seen.1

Her reply: 143

Tales of he Shitahimo no Shirushi to suru mo Tokenaku ni Kataru ga goto wa Koizu zo arubeki.

I do not think your love Is as you profess, For there has been no loosening Of my under-sash To prove it.2

His rejoinder: Koishi to wa Sara ni mo iwaji Shitahimo no Tokemu o hito wa Sore to shiranan.

I shall not say again That I love you— But should you find Your under-sash loosening, You will know the reason.8 112

After many earnest declarations of devotion to a certain man, a lady fell in love with someone else. The first man composed this poem: Suma no ama no Shio yaku keburi Kaze o itami Omowanu kata ni Tanabikinikeri.

Captured by the gale, The smoke from the salt-fires Of the fisherf oik at Suma Has drifted off In an unforeseen direction.1 113

A poem composed by a man who had been left to live alone: Nagakaranu Inochi no hodo ni Wasururu wa Ika ni mijikaki Kokoro naruran. 144

How deficient in feeling Is the heart That can forget In the short span Of a human life.1

Tales of he 114 1

Once the Ninna Emperor commanded a certain man to handle a falcon on an outing2 to the Serikawa River3— someone who had done such work in the past but who now considered himself beyond an age when he could with dignity undertake it. The man appeared for the hunt in a figured costume with this poem on the sleeve: Let none find fault Okinasabi With an old man's appearance, Hito na togame so For he who wears this hunting Karigoromo costume Kyo bakari to zo Shares the plaint of the crane— Tazu mo naku nam. "Today must be the end."4 The poem put the emperor quite out of sorts. The poet had been thinking of his own advancing years, but to others who were no longer young the words struck home with disagreeable force. 115 A man who had been living with a woman in the province of Michinoku announced one day that he intended to leave for the capital. The woman, in great distress, begged him to at least stay for a farewell dinner. At a place called Okinoite Miyakojima,1 she served him wine and recited this poem: Oki no ite Mi o yaku yori mo Kanashiki wa Miyako shimabe no Wakare narikeri.

More bitter than the anguish Of flesh seared by fiery coals Is this parting at Miyakoshima, One to go to the capital And one to remain on a lonely shore.3 145

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise 116 Once there was a man who for no particular reason had wandered all the way to the province of Michinoku. He sent this poem to a lady in the capital with whom he was in love: How long it has been Namima yori Since last we met— Miyuru kojima no Long as the eaves of a cottage Hamabisashi By the shore of a tiny island Hisashiku narinu Glimpsed between waves.1 Kimi ni aimide. "I have," he added, "become quite a paragon of virtue." 117 Once an emperor journeyed to Sumiyoshi.1 Ware mite mo Hisashiku narinu Sumiyoshi no Kishi no himematsu Ikuyo henuran.

When I recall the long years Since I myself beheld it first— Countless indeed the generations Witnessed by this beautiful pine On the beach at Sumiyoshi.2

The god of Sumiyoshi manifested himself and recited, Mutsumashi to Kimi wa shiranami Mizugaki no Hisashiki yo yori Iwaisometeki.

Do you not know Of the tie that unites us ? Since times as ancient As my sacred fence Have I protected you.3

118 After a prolonged silence, a man once sent word to a lady that he had not forgotten her and intended to visit her soon. She composed this poem: 146

Tamakazura Hau ki amata ni Narinureba Taenu kokoro no Ureshige mo nashi.

I can find no happiness In talk of devotion From one who has become A vine that creeps To tree after tree after tree.1 119

Once a lady composed this poem while gazing at some objects left behind as keepsakes by a fickle man: These very keepsakes Katami koso Are now a source of misery, Ima wa ada nare For without them Kore naku wa There would perhaps be times Wasururu toki mo When I might forget.1 Aramashi mono o. 120

Once a man learned that a certain lady, whom he had supposed to be quite without experience in matters of the heart, had secretly exchanged vows with another suitor. Some time later he sent her this poem: Would that the festival 6mi naru Tsukuma no matsuri Of Tsukuma in Omi Might soon take place, Toku senan For I should like to count Tsurenaki hito no 1 Nabe no kazu mimu. A cruel lady's pots. 121

Once a man caught sight of a rain-drenched lady leaving the Umetsubo.1 He composed this: Uguisu no What a pity that I lack Hana o nuu cho A bonnet of plum blossoms 147

Tales of Ise

Tales of Ise Kasa mo gana Nurumeru hito ni Kisete kaesan.

Such as warblers sew— I should give it to a rain-drenched lady To wear home.2

Her reply: Uguisu no Hana o nuu cho Kasa wa ina Omoi o tsukeyo Hoshite kaesan.

I have no need Of a plum-blossom hat Such as warblers sew, But if you can spare a bit of burning passion, I shall dry my garments and return it. 122

Once a man sent this to a lady who had been false to her vows: Yamashiro no Ide no tamamizu Te ni musubi Tanomishi kai mo Naki yo narikeri.

Ours has proved a relationship In which it was futile To put one's faith in vows.1

She made no reply. 123

Once a man gave this poem to a lady at Fukakusa1—someone in whom, it seems, he had been gradually losing interest. Toshi o hete Sumikoshi sato o Idete inaba Itodo Fukakusa No to ya narinan. 148

Were I to leave the house Where I have dwelt These years, Might the luxuriant garden Become a tangled wilderness ?a

The lady's reply: No to naraba Uzura to narite Nakioran Kari ni dani ya wa Kimi wa kozaramu.

If it be a wild field, Then I shall be a quail Calling plaintively— And surely you will at least Come briefly for a hunt.3

The man, deeply moved, no longer felt inclined to leave. 124 What thoughts on what occasion, do you suppose, prompted a man to compose this poem ? Omou koto Iwade zo tada ni Yaminubeki Ware to hitoshiki Hito shi nakereba.

It will be best To keep silent And not say what I think, For there is no other Who shares my feelings.1 125

Once a man was taken ill. Sensing the approach of death, he recited, Tsui ni yuku This road, Michi to wa kanete I have long been told, Kikishikado Man travels in the end— Kino kyo to wa Yet I had not thought to go Omowazarishi o. Yesterday or today.1 SECTIONS MISSING FROM TEIKA TEXTS

126 A poem sent to someone during an early morning downpour after a day of steady rain: 149

Tales of Ise Furikurashi Furikurashitsuru Ame no oto o Tsurenaki hito no Kokoro to mogana. The reply: Yayamosureba Kaze ni shitagau Ame no oto o Taenu kokoro ni Kakezu mo aranan.

Would that the heart Of a cruel lady Were filled with devotion Constant as the sound Of this eternal rain. Do not compare A steadfast heart To the sound of rain That comes and goes As the wind dictates.

Once there was a man who ran off with a certain lady. As they traveled they came to a place where there was fresh water. "Would you like some?" the man asked. The lady nodded, and since he had no cup he scooped it up with his hands for her. Thus he took her to the capital. Later he died and she set out to return to her old home. When she reached the spot where he had given her water, she recited this poem: Where is he now— The man who scooped up Handful upon handful Of Ohara's clear water, Asking, "Is it enough P"1

A most affecting story. 128

A certain man and woman were constantly exchanging tender vows, but one day the man for some reason composed this poem: 150

Kokoro o zo Wari naki mono to Omoinuru Katsu miru hito ya Koishikaruran.

The human heart, I have come to think, Is beyond comprehension, For why should I love a lady I have scarcely seen T 129

127

Ohara ya Sekai no mizu o Musubitsutsu Aku ya to toishi Hito wa izura wa

Tales of he

A man who lived in the area called Western Palace1 set out one day for the marketplace. On the way he struck up a conversation with a lady in a carriage, and after chatting agreeably for a time he asked if he might know where she lived. She replied, Even were I to tell you, Wa ga ie wa You could not go there, Kumoi no mine shi For I dwell Chikakereba Near a mountain peak Oshiu tomo kon Veiled in clouds.2 Mono naranaku ni. The man: Karisome ni If the feeling awakening Somuru kokoro shi Within my heart Mame naraba Should indeed be love, Nado ka kumoi o Nothing will prevent me Tazunezarubeki. From visiting the clouds. With that he took his leave. 130 Once a man was secretly visiting a certain lady. She sent him this: As a cloud Nakazora ni Hanging in midair Tachiiru kumo no Dissolves without a trace, Ato mo naku So indeed must end Mi no hakanaku mo This evanescent life.1 Narinubeki kana. 151

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Tales of Ise J

3J Once a rather passionate lady sent this poem to a man who seemed to be tiring of her: Ima wa tote Ware ni shigure no Furiyukeba Koto no ha sae zo Utsuroinikeru.

Now that I am entering The winter of life, Your ardor has faded Like foliage ravaged By late autumn rains.1

The reply (Ki no Sadafun): Hito o omou Kokoro no hana ni Araba koso Kaze no manimani Chiri mo midareme.

Were my love for you But a fragile blossom, Then perhaps It might scatter And blow with the wind.3

132 Once a man went to the Nara capital, intending to inquire after someone he knew there, but instead of getting in touch with his friend he decided to send this poem to a lady with whom he had earlier, in some annoyance, broken off correspondence: Haru no hi no Itari itaranu Sato wa araji Sakeru sakazaru Hana no miyuran.

Since there is no village Untouched by the rays Of the sun in spring, Why should one see flowers Blooming and not blooming P1

Amata araba Sashi wa sezu tomo Tamakushige Aken oriori Omoide ni seyo.

If you have too many To make use of this, Pray keep it with your combs And think of me when now and then You open the box. J

34

For a long time a man had been deeply in love with a lady whom it seemed impossible for him to meet. Wa ga yado ni Makishi nadeshiko Itsu shika mo Hana ni sakanan Yosoete mo mimu.

How impatient I grow To see the bloom On the wild pink Planted in my garden, For I shall think of it as you.1 135

Once a man paid a visit in a rather dubious quarter. The next morning some of the people there began to create a commotion as he was leaving. He recited, Tsuki shi areba Arawan koto mo Shirazu shite Nete kuru ware o Hito ya mitsuran.

Perhaps the moon Has bathed me in light Without my noticing, And thus I have been seen Returning from sleeping here.1

J

33 As a token of interest, the same man once sent a girl an ornamental hairpin after her coming-of-age ceremony.1 His poem: 152

136 Once a man named Ariwara Yukihira sent this poem to a lady: 153

Tales of Ise Omoitsutsu Oreba subenashi Mubatama no Yoru ni narinaba Ware koso yukame.

The longing in my heart Is quite beyond endurance. With the coming of night, Black as leopard-flower berries, I shall surely visit you.1

The lady: Konu hito o Ima mo ya kuru to Machishi ma no Nagori ni kyo mo Nerarezarikeri.

Today too have I been sleepless, Remembering hours spent In tense anticipation, Waiting for someone Who never came.2

!37 Once a man who was tormented by a hopeless passion sent this poem to a certain place: Yuzukuyo Akatsukigata no Asakage ni Wa ga mi wa narinu Kimi o kou tote.

For love of you I have grown thin As a shadow Cast by the sun In early morning.1

It nevertheless proved impossible to arrange a meeting.

Tales of Ise J

39 Once there lived a romantic lady and a man of much the same turn of mind. The man was eager to find an affectionate wife, and the lady longed with all her heart to marry; and so when they chanced to meet it was not long before they exchanged vows. But though they were deeply in love, both lived in dread of being abandoned, and the lady finally decided to go away. She left this poem: Iza sakura Chiraba arinan Hitosakari Narenaba ukime Mie mo koso sure.

Would that I too Might scatter like you, O cherry blossoms, For I shall be quite ugly When my brief flowering ends.1

Awakening to find her gone, the man recited this in a fit of exasperation: Isasame ni Chirinuru sakura Nakaranamu Nodokeki haru no Na o mo tatsumeri.

How pleasant it would be Were there no cherry blossoms To bloom a bit and scatter. Then indeed might spring be called The season of tranquillity.2

i38

140

A man who was in love woke up one night and lay staring outside. As he listened to the shrill voices of insects chirping in the shrubbery, he recited,

Once a group of people with elegant tastes were composing verses incorporating the names of things. One man recited, on the watercourse bamboo,

Kashigamashi Kusaba ni kakaru Mushi no ne ya Ware dani mono o Iwade koso omoe.

Sayo f ukete Nakaba take yuku Hisakata no Tsuki fukikaese Aki no yamakaze.

154

If speechless I endure the pain Of unrequited love, Why must insects on the leaves Lift up their voices In noisy lamentation ?

The night grows late, And the moon rides Quite halfway through the sky. Blow her back, I pray, Autumnal mountain breeze.2 155

Tales of he 141 A man traveling in remote regions sent a piece of colored leather to someone who had asked for a souvenir from Tsukushi.1 His poem: Miyako yori Koko made kureba Tsuto mo nashi Tachi no ogawa no Hashi nomi zo aru.

Now that I have come here, So far from the capital, No souvenirs are to be found; There is only My sword-string's leather tip.2

The poem no doubt contains an allusion to a place. 142 Once a fickle man received this from a lady whom he no longer visited: Omoitsutsu Nureba ya hito no Mietsuran Yume to shiriseba Samezaramashi o.

Was it because I fell asleep Tormented by longing That you appeared to me ? Had I but known I dreamt, I should have wished never to awaken.1

143 Once a man was about to start for home after visiting a lady. How short, he thought, even the long nights of autumn sometimes seem. He recited, Aki no yo mo This autumn night Na nomi narikeri Was long in name alone, Au to aeba For scarcely had we met Koto zo tomo naku When daylight appeared, Akenuru mono o. Leaving everything unsaid.1 156

Appendixes

APPENDIX A

Kokinshu Poems of the Six Poetic Geniuses

POEMS BY BUN YA YASUHIDE

KKS 8 (Spring) On the Third of a certain First Month, the Empress from the Second Ward, who was then known as the Mother of the Crown Prince, summoned Yasuhide to receive some instructions. As he bowed below her veranda, she observed that snow was falling on his head while the sun was shining. She commanded him to compose a poem. Haru no hi no Hikari ni ataru Ware naredo Kashira no yuki to Naru zo wabishiki

As I rejoice In the sunlight of spring I regret only That my hair has grown White as this snow.1

KKS 249 (Autumn) Composed for a poetry contest at the residence of Prince Koresada.2 Fuku kara ni Aki no kusaki no Shiorureba Mube yamakaze o Arashi to iuramu.

When it blows, It ravages the autumn woods— Which of course must explain Why a wind from the mountains Is called a tempest.8 159

Appendix A

Kokinshu Poems

KKS 250 (Autumn) Composed for a poetry contest at the residence of Prince Koresada.

POEMS BY OTOMO K U R O N U S H I

Kusa mo ki mo Iro kawaredomo Watatsuumi no Nami no hana ni zo Aki nakarikeru.

Every herb and tree Changes color, But autumn never visits The flowers Of the ocean waves.4

KKS 445 (Names of Things) Once, in the days when she was still known as the Mother of the Crown Prince, the Empress from the Second Ward decorated a clump of bush clover with some artificial flowers made of wood shavings, and called on Yasuhide to compose a poem about them. Hana no ki ni Arazaramedomo Sakinikeri Furinishi ko no mi Naru toki mo gana.

Though this bush Ought not to bear flowers now, It is in bloom. Let us hope next For some antique fruit!6

KKS 846 (Laments) Composed on the anniversary of the death of the Fukakusa Emperor. Kusa fukaki Kasumi no tani ni Kage kakushi Teru hi no kureshi Kyo ni ya wa aranu.

160

Has it not been a year today Since the shining sun hid its radiance Behind the mists of a valley Rank with wild grasses, And grew dark ?8

KKS 88 (Spring) Harusame no Furu wa namida ka Sakurabana Chiru o oshimanu Hito shi nakereba.

Subject unknown. Is the spring rain Falling tears ? For there is no one Unmoved by cherry blossoms Soon to scatter.

KKS 735 (Love) After secretly visiting a lady, Kuronushi found it impossible to meet her again. One day, hearing the call of a wild goose as he walked near her house, he sent her this poem. Omoiidete Koishiki toki wa Hatsukari no Nakite wataru to Hito shirurame ya.

Do you know, I wonder, That when my love grows unendurable I pace near your house, crying aloud Like the first wild goose of autumn Winging its way across the sky.

KKS 899(Miscellaneous) Kagamiyama Iza tachiyorite Mite yukan Toshi henuru mi wa Oi ya shinuru to.

Before journeying on I shall go closer And look at Mirror MountainFor I have no doubt begun To show my age.

(Attributed by some to Otomo Kuronushi.) 161

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A KKS1086 (Poems for the Gods) Omi no ya Kagami no yama o Tatetareba Kanete zo miyuru Kimi ga chitose wa.

Because the gods have raised A Mirror Mountain in Omi, We have long been able to see That our sovereign will live A thousand years. POEM BY KISEN

KKS 119 (Spring) Sent to some ladies who had returned to the capital after stopping to see the wisteria blossoms at Kazan on their way back from Shiga Temple.8 Yoso ni mite Kaeran hito ni Fuji no hana Haimatsuwareyo Eda wa oru tomo.

KKS 983 (Miscellaneous)

KKS 165 (Summer)

Wa ga io wa Miyako no tatsumi Shika zo sumu Yo o ujiyama to Hito wa iu nari.

Hachisuba no Nigori ni shimanu Kokoro mote Nani ka wa tsuyu o Tama to azamuku.

Thus I dwell In my hermitage Southeast of the capital At the place others call Gloomy Mt. Uji.

POEMS BY ARCHBISHOP H E N J O

KKS 27 (Spring) ern Temple.7 Asamidori Ito yorikakete Shiratsuyu o Tama ni mo nukeru Haru no yanagi ka. KKS gi (Spring) Hana no iro wa Kasumi ni komete Misezu tomo Ka o dani nusume Haru no yamakaze. 162

On the willows near the Great Westr Pale green Twisted threads Piercing beads Of white dew— Willows in spring. A spring poem. Though jealous mists Begrudge us the sight Of the flowers' beauty, Steal us the scent, at least, Spring breeze from the hills.

KKS 226 (Autumn) Na ni medete Oreru bakari zo Ominaeshi Ware ochiniki to Hito ni kataru na.

Though your branches snap, Twine yourselves, wisteria blossoms, Around those who would go home Without paying respects To our buddha. On seeing dew on a lotus. How is it that the lotus leaf, Untainted by impurity, Yet practices deceit— For it would have us think Dewdrops gems. Subject unknown. I have but plucked you, Maiden flower, For your name's sake— Do not say to others That I am false to my vows.9

KKS 248 (Autumn) Once when the Ninna Emperor [Emperor Koko] was still a prince, he stopped at the home of Hen jo's mother on his way to view Furu-no-taki Waterfall. The garden had been redesigned to suggest a field in autumn. At an opportune moment in the conversation, Henjo recited this poem. Sato wa arete Hito wa furinishi

The dwelling is desolate, Its occupant old-fashioned— 163

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A Yado nare ya Niwa mo magaki mo Aki no nora nam.

That, I suppose, is why h Garden and fence have vanished, And only an autumnal field remains.

KKS 292 (Autumn) at Urin'in Temple.

Composed as he stood under a trcf

Wabibito no Wakite tachiyoru Ko no moto wa Tanomu kage naku Momiji chirikeri.

Faithlessly The tree Chosen to shelter A man hard-pressed Sheds its scarlet leaves.11

Is this the handiwork Of some mighty god ? With its help I shall be able To climb the hill of old age For a thousand years.

KKS 392 (Parting) Composed as someone was preparing to return to the capital at dusk after coming to worship at Kazan. Yiigure no Magaki wa yama to Mienanamu Yoru wa koeji to Yadori torubeku. 164

Would that someone Might take our fence for hills In the dusk And lodge with us, Unwilling to cross by night*.

Yamakaze ni Sakura fukimaki Midarenan Hana no magire ni Kimi tomarubeku.

How pleasant if the cherry blossoms Were blown by a mountain breeze In swirling chaos, And our guest, lost amid the petals, Were obliged to stop with us.

->'v

KKS 348 (Felicitations) While the Ninna Emperor was still a prince, he sent his aunt a silver-trimmed staff as a present on her eightieth birthday. When Henjo saw the staff, he composed this poem on the aunt's behalf: Chihayaburu Kami ya kiriken Tsuku kara ni Chitose no saka mo Koenuberanari.

KKS 394 (Parting) Composed under the cherry blossoms as the Prince of Urin'in Temple [Henjo's patron] prepared to return to the capital after coming for a Buddhist service.

KKS 435 (Names of Things) Chirinureba Nochi wa akuta ni Naru hana o Omoishirazu mo Madou cho kana. KKS 770 (Love) Wa ga yado wa Michi mo naki made Arenikeri Tsurenaki hito o Matsu to seshi ma ni. KKS 771 (Love) Ima kon to lite wakareshi Ashita yori Omoikurashi no Ne o nomi zo naku.

On the \utani plant.1

The infatuated butterfly Little knows That those petals When they scatter Will return to dust. Subject unknown. At my house Even the path has disappeared, Swallowed by rank growth, As I wait and wait For an unfeeling man.13 Subject unknown. Since the morning when you left, Promising to come back soon, I have spent my days in misery, Crying aloud Like a wailing cicada.1 165

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A KKS 84J (Laments) During the reign of the Fukakusa Emperor, the poet was in constant attendance on the throne as Director of the Archivists' Bureau. When the emperor died, he abandoned court life, went to Mt. Hiei, and became a monk. He wrote this poem in the following year, when everyone had stopped wearing mourning and he had begun to hear of rejoicings about promotions and the like. Mina hito wa Hana no koromo ni Narinu nari Koke no tamoto yo Kawaki dani seyo.

Everyone else, it seems, Is now gaily dressed. Will you not at least Remain dry, O monkish sleeve ?

KKS 8j2 (Miscellaneous) 15 ers. Amatsu kaze Kumo no kayoiji Fukitojiyo Otome no sugata Shibashi todomen.

On seeing the Gosechi danc-

Blow, winds of heaven! Close the path That leads through the clouds, And detain for a while These beautiful maidens.

KKS 985 (Miscellaneous) On a visit to Nara, Yoshimine Munesada [Henjo's name as a layman] heard a lady playing the koto inside a run-down house. He sent in this poem. Wabibito no Sumubeki yado to Miru nabe ni Nageki kuwawaru Koto no ne zo suru. 166

As I gaze, Thinking this the dwelling Of someone in distress, A koto's plaintive notes Increase my sadness.

KKS 1016 (Miscellaneous Forms) Subj ect unknown. O maiden flowers Marching in coquettish ranks, Self-assertive, Through autumnal fields— Your blossoms, too, will soon be

Aki no no ni Namamekitateru Ominaeshi Ana kashigamashi Hana mo hitotoki.

18

gone. POEMS BY ONO NO KOMACHI

KKS 113 (Spring)

Subject unknown. Alas! The cherry blossoms Have flowered in vain and faded During these long rains Interminable as my own Melancholy reveries.

Hana no iro wa Utsurinikeri na Itazura ni Wa ga mi yo ni furu Nagame seshi ma ni. KKS 552 (Love) IM142 Omoitsutsu Nureba ya hito no Mietsuran Yume to shiriseba Samezaramashi o.

KKS $$3 (Love) Utatane ni Koishiki hito o Miteshi yori Yume cho mono wa Tanomisometeki.

Subject unknown. Was it because I fell asleep Tormented by longing That you appeared to me ? Had I but known I dreamt I should have wished never to awaken.

Subject unknown. Since encountering my beloved While I dozed, I have begun to feel That it is dreams, not reality, On which I can rely. 167

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A KKS 554 {Love)

Subject unknown.

Ito semete Koishiki toki wa Mubatama no Yoru no koromo o Kaeshite zo kiru.

When longing for him Tortures me beyond endurance, I reverse my robe— Garb of night, black as leopardflower berries— And wear it inside out."

KKS 557 (Love) Reply [to a poem in which someone had referred to his tears as gems]. Oroka naru Namida zo sode ni Tama wa nasu Ware wa sekiaezu Tagitsu se nareba.

Tears that but form gems on sleeves Must come, I think, From an insincere heart, For mine, though I seek to repress them, Gush forth in torrents.

KKS 623 (Love) IM 25 Mirume naki Wa ga mi o ura to Shiraneba ya Karenade ama no Ashi tayuku kuru.

Subject unknown. In this bay There is no seaweed. Does he not know it— The fisherman who persists in coming Until his legs grow weary ?18

KKS 635 (Love) IM 143 Aki no yo mo Na nomi narikeri Au to ieba Koto zo tomo naku Akenuru mono o. 168

Subject unknown.

This autumn night Was long in name alone, For scarcely had we met When daylight appeared, Leaving everything unsaid.

KKS 656 (Love) Utsutsu ni wa Sa mo koso arame Yume ni sae Hitome o moru to Mini ga wabishisa.

KKS 657 (Love) Kagiri naki Omoi no mama ni Yoru mo komu Yumeji o sae ni Hito wa togameji.

KKS 658 (Love)

Subject unknown. In waking daylight, Then, oh then it can be understood, But when I see myself Shrinking from those hostile eyes Even in my dreams: this is misery itself.18 Subject unknown. Yielding to a love That knows no limit, I shall go to him by night— For the world does not yet censure Those who tread the paths of dreams. Subject unknown.

Though I visit him Yumeji ni wa Ceaselessly Ashi mo yasumezu In my dreams, Kayoedomo The sum of all those meetings Utsutsu ni hitome Mishi goto wa arazu. Is less than a single waking glimpse. KKS 727 (Love) Ama no sumu Sato no shirube ni Aranaku ni Ura min to nomi Hito no iuran.

Subject unknown. I know nothing About villages Where fisherfolk dwell; Why must you keep demanding To be shown the seashore P20 169

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A KKS 782 (Love) IM131 Ima wa tote Wa ga mi shigure ni Furinureba Koto no ha sae ni Utsuroinikeri.

Now that I am entering The winter of life, Your ardor has faded Like foliage ravaged By late autumn rains.21

KKS 797 (Love)

Subject unknown.

Iro miede Utsurou mono wa Yo no naka no Hito no kokoro no Hana ni zo arikeru.

KKS 822 (Love)

Subject unknown.

Find mutability In that being which alters without fading In its outward hue— In the color, looks, and the deceptive flower Of the heart of what this world calls man I23 Subject unknown.

Akikaze ni Au tanomi koso Kanashikere Wa ga mi munashiku Narinu to omoeba.

How bitter it is to see Autumnal blasts Strike the rice ears; I shall, I fear, Reap no harvest.23

KKS 938 (Miscellaneous) When Bun'ya Yasuhide was named a third-ranking provincial official in Mikawa, he sent Komachi a message: "Can you not set out for some sightseeing in the countryside ?" She composed this poem by way of reply. [Mikawa Province occupied what is now the eastern part of Aichi Prefecture. The provincial seat, near modern Toyohashi, was about 200 km. from Heian.] 170

Wabinureba Mi o ukigusa no Ne o taete Sasou mizu araba Inan to zo omou.

Misery holds me fixed, And I would eagerly cut loose these roots To become a floating plant— I should yield myself up utterly If the inviting stream might be relied upon.2*

KKS 939 (Miscellaneous) Aware cho Koto koso utate Yo no naka o Omoihanarenu Hodashi narikere.

Subject unknown.

What men call love Is simply A chain Preventing escape From this world of care.

KKS 1030 (Miscellaneous Forms) Hito ni awan Tsuki no naki ni wa Omoiokite Mune hashiribi ni Kokoro yakeori.

Subject unknown.

On such a night as this When the lack of moonlight shades your way to me, I wake from sleep my passion blazing, My breast a fire raging, exploding flame While within me my heart chars.25

KKS 1104 (Names of Things) IM 115 On Okinoi Miyakojima. More bitter than the anguish Oki no ite Of flesh seared by fiery coals Mi o yaku yori mo Is this parting— Kanashiki wa One to remain in the capital Miyako shimabe no And one to visit lonely shores. Wakare narikeri. 171

Appendix A

Kokinshu Poems

POEMS BY ARIWARA NARIHIRA

KKS 268 (Autumn) IM 5/ A poem attached to a chrysanthemum plant that he set out in someone's garden.

For notes on Narihira's poems, see Notes to the appropriate IM sections.

KKS 53 (Spring) IM 82 the Nagisa House. Yo no naka ni Taete sakura no Nakariseba Haru no kokoro wa Nodokekaramashi.

On seeing the cherry trees at If this were but a world To which cherry blossoms Were quite foreign, Then perhaps in spring Our hearts would know peace.

KKS 63 (Spring) IM 17 Reply [to a poem received from a lady during the cherry blossom season, complaining that he had stayed away until the flowers were in bloom, and protesting her faithfulness. Here the flowers represent the lady.] Kyo kozu wa Asu wa yuki to zo Furinamashi Kiezu wa ari tomo Hana to mimashi ya.

If I had not come today They would have fallen tomorrow Like snow. Though they have not yet melted away, They are scarcely true flowers.

Ue shi ueba Aki naki toki ya Sakazaran Hana koso chirame Ne sae kareme ya.

If it has been well planted, It will fail to bloom Only if autumn should fail to come, And though the petals scatter The roots will never die.

KKS 294 (Autumn) IM 106 Topic: A picture of autumn leaves floating on the Tatsuta River, painted on a screen owned by the Empress from the Second Ward. Composed while the empress was still known as the Mother of the Crown Prince. Chihayaburu Kamiyo mo kikazu Tatsutagawa Karakurenai ni Mizu kukuru to wa.

Unheard of Even in the age Of the mighty gods— These deep crimson splashes Dyed in Tatsuta's waters.

KKS 349 (Felicitations) IM 97 Composed on the occasion of a fortieth birthday celebration for the Minister of State from Horikawa, held at the Ninth Ward House.

KKS 133 (Spring) IM 80 Sent to someone with a spray of wisteria flowers plucked on a rainy day late in the Third Month.

Sakurabana Chirikaikumore Oiraku no Komu to iu naru Michi magau ga ni.

Nuretsutsu zo Shiite oritsuru Toshi no uchi ni Haru wa ikuka mo Araji to omoeba.

KKS 410 (Travel) IM 9 Once Narihira was traveling toward the eastern provinces with one or two friends. When the party reached a place in Mikawa called Eight Bridges (Yatsuhashi), they dismounted to sit under the

172

Though I got wet, I was determined to pluck them, Mindful That of this year But few spring days remain.

Scatter in clouds, Cherry blossoms, That you may hide the path By which old age Is said to approach.

173

Appendix A

Kokinshu Poems

trees, attracted by the sight of some clumps of irises blooming beside the river. Narihira composed this poem, his object being to express sentiments suitable for a traveler, while beginning each line with the appropriate syllable from the word kakjtsubata ("iris").

KKS 418 (Travel) IM 82 Once when Narihira was on a hunting excursion with Prince Koretaka, the party dismounted on the bank of a stream called the Amanogawa ("River of Heaven"). As they were drinking there, the prince commanded Narihira to offer him a wine cup with a poem expressing sentiments appropriate for a hunter arriving at the River of Heaven.

Karagoromo Kitsutsu narenishi Tsuma shi areba Harubaru kinuru Tabi o shi zo omou.

I have a beloved wife, Familiar as the skirt Of a well-worn robe, And so this distant journeying Fills my heart with grief.

KKS 411 (Travel) IM g When they reached the bank of the Sumida River, which flows between the provinces of Musashi and Shimosa, they were all bitterly homesick for the capital. They dismounted for a time and drew together on the bank, thinking involuntarily of home as they stared at the water. "How very far we have come!" The ferryman interrupted their laments, saying, "Come aboard quickly; it's getting late." They got into the boat and prepared to cross, all in wretched spirits, for there was not one among them who had not left someone dear to him in the capital. A white bird with a red bill and red legs chanced to be frolicking near the riverbank. Since it was of a species unknown in the capital, none of them could identify it. "What kind of bird is that?" they asked the ferryman. "A capital-bird, of course," he replied with an air of surprise. Then Narihira recited this poem. Na ni shi owaba Iza koto towamu Miyakodori Wa ga omou hito wa Ari ya nashi ya to. 174

If you are what your name implies, Let me ask you, Capital-bird, Does all go well With my beloved ?

Karikurashi Tanabatatsume ni Yado karan Ama no kawara ni Ware wa kinikeri.

Having hunted until dark, Let us borrow a lodging From the Weaver Maid, For we have come to the banks Of the River of Heaven.

KKS 476 (Love) IM 99 On the day of an archery meet at the riding grounds of the Imperial Guards of the Right, Narihira glimpsed a lady's face through the silk curtains of a carriage opposite him. He sent her this poem. Mizu mo arazu Mi mo senu hito no Koishiku wa Aya naku kyo ya Nagamekurasan.

Bewitched by someone Not unseen Nor yet quite seen, Must I to no purpose spend this day Lost in melancholy revery ?

KKS 616 (Love) IM 2 Composed during a drizzling rain and sent to a lady whom he had secretly wooed since early in the Third Month. Oki mo sezu Ne mo sede yoru o Akashite wa Haru no mono tote Nagamekurashitsu.

After a night Neither waking nor sleeping, I have spent the day Staring at the rain— The long rain of spring. 175

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A KKS 618 (Love) IM 107 A reply [to a suitor's poem] composed on the lady's behalf.

KKS 644 (Love) IM 103 after a tryst.

Asami koso Sode wa hizurame Namidagawa Mi sae nagaru to Kikaba tanoman.

Nenuru yo no Yume o hakanami Madoromeba Iya hakana ni mo Narimasaru kana.

Shallow indeed the river of tears That drenches sleeves alone! I shall believe in your sincerity When I hear that you yourself Are being carried away.

KKS 622 (Love) IM 25 Aki no no ni Sasawakeshi asano Sode yori mo Awade koshi yo zo Hijimasarikeru.

On nights when I come home without meeting you, My sleeves are wetter Than when of a morning I have pressed through bamboo grass Crossing the fields in autumn.

KKS 632 (Love) IM 5 Narihira was once visiting a lady in the neighborhood of the eastern Fifth Ward. Since the liaison was a secret one, he could not enter by way of the gate, but came and went through a broken place in the hedge. His constant visits finally became known to the house's owner, who posted a night guard beside the entrance, and when he came he was obliged to go home without having seen the lady. He sent her this poem. Hito shirenu Wa ga kayoiji no Sekimori wa Yoiyoigoto ni Uchi mo nenanan. 176

Would that he might fall asleep Every night— This guard At the secret place Where I come and go.

KKS 646 (Love) IM 69 Virgin]. Kakikurasu Kokoro no yami ni Madoiniki Yume utsutsu to wa Yohito sadameyo.

Sent to a lady on the morning

Grieved by the insubstantiality Of last night's dream, I seek to recapture it By dozing off again— Yet it grows ever more unreal. Reply [to a poem from the Ise I too have groped In utter darkness. Someone else must decide Which it might have been— Whether dream or reality.

KKS 705 (Love) IM 107 Once when Fujiwara Toshiyuki was visiting a girl who lived in Narihira's house, he sent her a letter saying that he was planning to call shortly unless it began to rain too hard. Narihira wrote this on the girl's behalf. Kazukazu ni Omoi omowazu Toigatami Mi o shiru ame wa Furi zo masareru.

I have been powerless to gauge The measure of your love, But harder and harder Falls the rain That must reveal the truth.

KKS 707 (Love) IM 47 Reply [to a lady's poem complaining of his fickleness]. 177

Kokinshu Poems

Appendix A Onusa to Na ni koso tatere Nagarete mo Tsui ni yoru se wa Ari cho mono o.

I am indeed reputed To resemble a sacred wand— Yet when its drifting is done Is there not a shoal Where the wand comes to rest ?

KKS 747 (Love) IM 4 Once, quite without premeditation, Narihira began to make love to a lady who lived in the western wing of a palace belonging to the Empress from the Fifth Ward. Shortly after the Tenth of the First Month the lady moved away with no word to him, and though he learned where she had gone, it was impossible to communicate with her. In the spring of the following year, when the plum blossoms were at their height, poignant memories of the preceding year drew him back to the western wing on a beautiful moonlit night. He lay on the floor of the bare room until the moon sank low in the sky. Tsuki ya aranu Haru ya mukashi no Haru naranu Wa ga mi hitotsu wa Moto no mi ni shite.

Is not the moon the same ? The spring The spring of old ? Only this body of mine Is the same body . . .

KKS 78$ (Lope) IM ig Reply [to a letter from Ki no Aritsune's daughter, complaining that though he visited her by day, he no longer spent the nights with her]. Yukikaeri Sora ni nomi shite Furu koto wa Wa ga iru yama no Kaze hayami nari. 178

That I go and return, Remaining always Aloof in the heavens, Is the fault of the gales At my mountain home.

KKS 861 (Laments) IM 125 ill and failing. Tsui ni yuku Michi to wa kanete Kikishikado Kino kyo to wa Omowazarishi o.

This road, I have long been told, Man travels in the end— Yet I had not thought to go Yesterday or today.

KKS 868 (Miscellaneous) IM 41 his brother-in-law. Murasaki no Iro koki toki wa Me mo haru ni No naru kusaki zo Wakarezarikeru.

Composed when he was

On sending a cloak to

When the murasaki's hue Is strong and deep, One can distinguish No other plant On the vast plain.

KKS 871 (Miscellaneous) IM 76 Composed when the Empress from the Second Ward, then known as the Mother of the Crown Prince, made a pilgrimage to Oharano. Ohara ya Oshio no yama mo Kyo koso wa Kamiyo no koto mo Omoiizurame.

On this auspicious day The divinity of Mt. Oshio at Ohara Will surely remember What happened long ago In the Age of the Gods.

KKS 879 (Miscellaneous) IM 88 Okata wa Tsuki o mo medeji Kore zo kono Tsumoreba hito no Oi to naru mono.

As a general thing I have but little heart For praise of the glorious moon Whose every circuit Brings old age closer. 179

Appendix A

Kokinshu Poems

KKS 884 (Miscellaneous) IM 82 Once Narihira accompanied Prince Koretaka on an excursion. Back at their lodgings, the prince's party drank wine and talked late into the night. When the eleven-day-old moon was about to set, the prince, somewhat befuddled, prepared to retire, whereupon Narihira recited this poem.

planned a farewell dinner for him, but though the hour grew exceedingly late, Toshisada, busy with last-minute errands, failed to appear. Narihira sent him this.

Akanaku ni Madaki mo tsuki no Kakururu ka Yama no ha nigete Irezu mo aranan.

Must the moon disappear In such haste, Leaving us still unsatisfied ? Would that the mountain rim might flee And refuse to receive her.

f

KKS 901 (Miscellaneous) IM 84 Reply [to a letter from his mother begging him to visit her and referring to her advancing years]. Yo no naka ni For the sake of sorrowing sons Saranu wakare no Who wish that their parents :l Naku mo gana Might live a thousand years, Chiyo mo to nageku Would that in this world Hito no ko no tame. There were no final partings. KKS 923 (Miscellaneous) IM 87 Composed when a group of people were reciting poems below Nunobiki Falls. Nukimidaru Hito koso arurashi Shiratama no Ma naku mo chiru ka Sode no sebaki ni.

It looks as though someone Must be unstringing Those clear cascading gems. Alas! My sleeves are too narrow To hold them all.

KKS 969 (Miscellaneous) IM 48 When Ki no Toshisada was appointed Vice-Governor of Awa, Narihira 180

Ima zo shim Kurushiki mono to Hito matan Sato o ba karezu Toubekarikeri.

Now that I know How hard it is to wait, I shall call faithfully At houses Where I am expected.

KKS 970 (Miscellaneous) IM 83 In the days when Narihira attended Prince Koretaka, the prince became a monk and went to live at Ono. Narihira set out to call on him there in the First Month. Since Ono was at the foot of Mount Hiei, the snow was very deep, but he managed to struggle to the hermitage, where he found the prince looking bored and forlorn. After returning to the capital, he sent the prince this poem. Wasurete wa Yume ka to zo omou Omoiki ya Yuki fumiwakete Kimi o min to wa.

When for an instant I forget, How like a dream it seems... Never could I have imagined That I would plod through snowdrifts To see my lord.

KKS 971 (Miscellaneous) IM 723 Sent to someone at Fukakusa as he prepared to return to the capital after having lived there for a time. Toshi o hete Sumikoshi sato o Idete inaba Itodo Fukakusa No to ya narinan.

Were I to leave the house Where I have dwelt These years, Might the luxuriant garden Become a tangled wilderness ? I»I

Texts APPENDIX B

Texts of Ise Monogatari

Under some circumstances the textual history of a book may be uneventful—for example, when the author and the date of writing are known, when the work has been transmitted only in a few printed editions, or when limited circulation has resulted from inaccessibility, lack of interest among potential readers, or some other cause. But no such limiting factors have been operative in the case of he monogatari. No work of Japanese literature has been better known, more widely read, or more assiduously studied; none is of more obscure origin. IM is the creation not merely of a single anonymous author, but of a series of faceless writers working over decades or perhaps centuries. Its episodic structure has invited modification. And during most of its thousand-year history it has been transmitted and reproduced solely in manuscript copies. Quite naturally, texts and traditions have blossomed, proliferated, disappeared (except for tantalizing hints), and influenced one another in countless subtle, ill-understood ways. Japanese scholars, in their efforts to reduce the resultant chaos to comprehensible patterns, have produced an imposing periodical and monographic literature many times thicker than the slender object of their scrutiny. Much has 182

been learned; much remains elusive. The following pages attempt not to report in detail on the findings of specialists but merely to outline what is now known. It has not been possible to trace the lineage of any IM text farther back than the end of the twelfth century. Considering the years of intensive effort that have been devoted to the task, and especially the high degree of sophistication displayed by modern researchers, it seems fair to conclude that the first two hundred years of the book's history must remain forever obscure. One can say only that by the beginning of the eleventh century he monogatari was a recognized classic, containing episodes still present in extant versions,1 and that by around the year 1200 there were in existence two or more very different lines of texts. During the closing years of the twelfth century and the early decades of the thirteenth, two men interested themselves in he monogatari with lasting effect—the Buddhist monk Kensho and the court noble Fujiwara Teika, poetscholars once almost equally prominent, although the years have been unkind to Kensho. Kensho (1130-ca. 1210) was a central figure in the conservative Rokujo faction, which dominated court poetry for a time in the twelfth century before being eclipsed by the rival Nijo (Mikohidari) family. The Rokujo were active for several generations as poets and compilers of imperial poetic anthologies, but they made their most valuable contribution to Japanese letters through their studies of poetry, and in that field Kensho was one of their brightest luminaries. Two of his projects are pertinent to our interests: (1) he discussed poems common to IM and KKS in his Kokinshuchu (A Commentary on Kokinshu), a work consolidating and carrying forward the labors of earlier Rokujo family members, and (2) he copied, collated, and commented on IM texts, preparing 183

Appendix B

Texts

annotations that are very likely preserved, in part at least, in certain extant versions. Kensho and other turn-of-the-century scholars mentioned the existence of a number of IM texts, most of them identified by the names of earlier court figures who were thought to have owned or copied them. One, said to be a copy in the hand of Ariwara Narihira,the supposed author of IM, was described as different from any other, beginning with what is now Section 43 in the 125-episode texts, and ending with section 125. Whether such a text ever existed is uncertain. If it did, it has disappeared without a trace. Kensho ignored it in his classification of texts extant in his day. Those fell, he said, into two broad categories: (1) texts that began with the first poem in the present translation, Kasugano no, and ended with the Tsui ni yu\u poem in Section 125; and (2) texts that began with the present Section 69, dealing with the "man of old" at Ise, ended with a poem now contained in Section 11 (Wasuru na yo), and exhibited other conspicuous structural differences from the first group. Kensho described texts of the first group as in general circulation and those of the second as rare. Fujiwara (Nijo) Teika (1162-1241), the head of the Nijo family, was the leading literary figure of his generation and one of the great poets of the Japanese classical tradition. He is indeed so well known as a poet that his distinguished scholarly attainments are sometimes overlooked. In his later years, in particular, he devoted long hours to the study of old texts. He was especially interested both in Kokinshu, which he annotated and copied 14 times between 1209 and 1237, and in Ise monogatari. During the first three and a half decades of the thirteenth century he made at least half a dozen copies of IM, using a parent text that cannot now be reconstructed, but that probably did not

vary drastically from the versions he handed on to posterity, which all resemble one another closely. Japanese specialists have supposed that Teika's basic text belonged to his family, and that he collated it with other current versions familiar to him. He is known to have been a careful and discerning textual critic. By the end of Teika's life, his prestige was such that the rival force represented by Kensho and other members of the Rokujo faction had lost all hope of recovering their old influence in court poetic circles. Teika passed on his position of preeminence to his son Tameie (a lesser figure, both as a poet and as a scholar), whose descendants dominated classical Japanese poetry for many generations thereafter. The family also continued Teika's interest in classical studies, and the names of Tameie, his sons Tameuji and Tamesuke, and others are attached to some of the best-known extant IM texts. The Rokujo meanwhile persevered in their own textual labors, preserving and studying IM versions that apparently differed significantly from those on which the Nijo school relied. The latter, which were of course the ones transmitted by Teika, were also, because of Teika's great prestige, those most widely circulated from Teika's day on. Modern research has traced the existence of other lines in the medieval period, including some that probably stemmed from Kensho's work; but Teika's texts very nearly swept the field. Most variants remained out of sight in shrines and temples.2 The scholars of national learning (\o\uga\ushd) of the Tokugawa period approached the study of he monogatari with lively interest and open minds. During the medieval period (ca. 1185-1600) Nijo, Rokujo, and other commentators had concentrated on elucidating the meanings of obscure words and passages, investigating ancient customs

184

185

Texts

Appendix B and ceremonies, and the like. The challenging problems of the work's date, authorship, title, and development had been met only by repetitions of vague surmises and groundless theories handed on from teacher to disciple for generation after generation. Tokugawa scholars adopted a fresh, independent approach to such questions, and as part of their researches they made determined efforts to find texts other than the ubiquitous fruits of Teika's labors. In the field of textual studies, the outstanding Tokugawa accomplishment was the publication in 1817 of a collated edition, Sanko Ise monogatari, compiled by Yashiro Hirokata (1758-1841), who checked one of the best Teika texts against two other Teika texts, a third text written in \ata\ana* a fourth written in Chinese characters, and a short fifth text stemming from an entirely different line.4 Really fruitful analysis and comparison, however, did not begin until the twentieth century. Important pioneer structural studies, which demonstrated highly refined comparative techniques, were published in the 1930's by Ikeda Kikan (d. 1956) and by Otsu Yuichi, coeditor of the text used in the present translation.5 Since World War II, a number of previously unknown texts have come to light, making it necessary to revise some of the conclusions tentatively reached in the thirties. Professor Otsu and others have continued to work actively, along with a brilliant and dedicated young scholar, Fukui Teisuke, who has devoted himself to the study of this work ever since his days as a student under Ikeda and Hisamatsu Sen'ichi at Tokyo University. In outlining below the results of their investigations, I have adopted a classification system based on one devised by Ikeda and further developed by Fukui. It is possible to distinguish four classes of extant texts. 186

6

I. 125-EPisoDE TEXTS. This is by far the largest of the four categories. The texts contain 209 poems. They begin with a story about a young man recently come of age, and proceed in roughly chronological order until the man's death. There are few textual variations. All except "old texts" (B below) contain colophons that associate them with Teika's copies. The oldest extant manuscript appears to date from the early Kamakura period. The principal subdivisions are as follows: A. Teika texts. Most extant 125-episode texts clearly stem from one or another of the copies made by Teika (all holographs are believed to have been lost by the end of the Tokugawa period). They have traditionally been divided into three groups. 1. Takeda texts. The parent text, once owned by the Takeda warrior house of Wakasa Province, is known to have survived until the early Edo period. Extant copies contain a distinctive colophon, signed by Teika, which discusses texts and authorship. Important MSS are (a) a copy associated with the poet-critic Shotetsu (1381-1459), (b) a copy, now at Kanazawa University, associated with the poet-scholar Nakanoin Michikatsu (1558-1610), and (

8. B/M, p. 13. 9. Ibid., p. 14. 10. Ibid. 11. A chapter (ca. 200 B.C.?) in the Confucian Boo\ of Rites (Li-chi). It says, in a famous passage, "The ancients who wished clearly to exemplify illustrious virtue throughout the world would first set up good government in their states. Wishing to govern well their states, they would first regulate their families. Wishing to regulate their families, they would first cultivate their persons." Translation from de Bary et al., Sources of Chinese Tradition, I, 115. 12. There were no important literary movements at the barbarian capitals in the north. 13. Ami, p. 221. For the Weaver Maid and the Herdsman, see Section 59, n. 3, below. 14. Ibid., p. 220. 15. Sei Shonagon, a fastidious, witty court lady who lived at the beginning of the eleventh century, expressed a point of view that probably was not uncommon when she wrote, "All preachers must be handsome; if they are not, one's attention wanders, and then ugliness becomes a positive cause of sin." Paraphrased from Waley, The Pillow-Boo^ of Sei Shonagon, p. 114. 16. B/M, p. 310. 17. Hisamatsu, Nihon bunga\ushi, II, 2iff. 18. Kojima, Kaifuso, pp. 24-25. 19. The poems in the three Heian anthologies do display certain stylistic features that distinguish them from the poems in Kaifuso, the Nara collection. Most Kaifuso poems consist of five-word lines, a form popular in the late Six Dynasties and still found in early T'ang, while those in the later anthologies favor the four seven-word lines of the chueh-chu style, typical of early and middle T'ang. 20. On the general subject of the waka revival, see Kawaguchi, pp. 294fl. 21. Kawaguchi, pp. 305-6. 22. Kojima, Joddi, III, 1828-31. 23. Ibid., p. 1827. 24. Kubota, Kol{inwakashu hyosha\u, 1,140. 25. The Japanese term for what I have called sensuousness is en, variously defined as "a gay, buoyant tone," "the vivid, immediate impression created by rich, beautiful colors," and "a feeling as of something dimly floating." Hisamatsu, The Vocabulary of Japanese Literary Aesthetics, pp. 18-19. 26. In addition to Tsurayuki's kana preface, Ko\inshu has a Chinese preface similar in content.

197

Notes to Pages 35-49

Notes to Pages 50-69

27. Ko\inshii contains 17 of Henjo's poems and only five of Yasuhide's, three of Kuronushi's, and one of Kisen's. The compilers' reason for honoring them with special mention is not clear. 28. Saeki Umetomo, pp. 337-39. 29. Ibid., p. 339. 30. Ibid. 31. The poem may actually be by someone else. KKS says only that it is sometimes attributed to Kuronushi, though the kana preface calls it typical of his work. 32. Saeki Umetomo, p. 339. 33. For an analysis, see Sec. 25, n. 2. 34. Saeki Umetomo, p. 339. 35. KKS 1030 (translation from B/M, p. 206). 36. SJ, pp. 475-76. For details see also Vos, I, 49; Fukui, pp. 332ff; Oka, pp. 98ff. For information concerning court ranks and titles, see Sansom, "Early Japanese Law and Administration," pp. 72-108. 37. SJ, p. 475. 38. See Yumoto, p. 353. 39. For the Yoshitsune legend, see Helen C. McCullough, Yoshitsune. 40. See Fukui, p. 342. 41. Aoki, p. 18. 42. See Saeki Ariyoshi, p. 441. 43. As evidence of the esteem in which Narihira was apparently held, note his generous representation in Ko\inshu (30 poems, exceeded only by the compilers and one other m a n ) , Tsurayuki's respectful references to him in the travel journal Tosa nityi, and the descriptions in he monogatari of other people's responses to verses composed by the book's chief figure, the Narihira-like "man of old." See Porter, pp. 39, 115-16; Suzuki et ah, pp. 34, 54; IM 66, 68, 85, 87, 95, and 107. 44. In all, 87 poems are attributed to Narihira by imperial anthologies. The tendency among specialists is to accept the 30 attributions in Ko\inshu, to tentatively accept some or all of the n in Gosenshu, and to view the remainder with extreme suspicion. 45. See KKS 53, p. 172; 418, p. 175; and 884, p. 180. 46. See KKS 8, p. 159; 445, p. 160; 249, p. 173; and 871, p. 179. 47. Matsumura, pp. 43-44. 48. IM 3, 5, 6, 29, and 76. Some of the identifications are probably late Heian interpolations. 49. See KKS 705, 785, and 969; IM 16, 38, 48, 77, 78, 82, and 107. 50. Princess Tenshi (also called Yasuko; d. 913). She was Prince Koretaka's full sister, and thus the niece of Ki no Aritsune, Narihira's fatherin-law. 51. Fukui, p. 470.

52. By the poet Liu Hsi-i. See Kojima, fodai, III, 1835-36. 53. B/M, p. 199. 54. Many older commentators followed ( a ) . Modern scholars tend to divide between (b) and (c). In my view ( d ) , which is essentially a compromise between (a) and ( b ) , is the most satisfactory. See O / T , p. 113, n. 28; Vos, II, 69, n. 13; Kaneko, p. 754; Arai, p. 99. For an interpretation differing somewhat from all of the above, see B/M, p. 193. 55. Saeki Umetomo, p. 339. (All subsequent references to Saeki mean Saeki Umetomo.) 56. MYS 892; translated in B/M, p. 121. 57. Waley, The Tale of Genji, "The Picture Competition," I, 336, and "Agemaki," II, 878; Yamagishi, II, 180, and IV, 443-44. These are the earliest known references to IM. 58. See Appendix B. 59. For details, see Fukui, pp. 192!!. 60. The Tale of Genji refers to it in one passage as he monogatari and in the other as Zaigo ga monogatari, "Tales of Narihira." See Yamagishi, IV, 443. Another Heian novel, Sagoromo monogatari, calls it Zaigo chiijo no ni\\i, "The Journal of Narihira." See Fukui, pp. 38-39. 61. Extant collections of Narihira's poems are thought to be relatively late. None contains poems not found in KKS, IM, GSS, and/or Yamato monogatari (an uta monogatari slightly later than IM). For a discussion, see Fukui, pp. 227-52. 62. For details, see Vos, I, 66ff; Fukui, pp. 1-15. 63. See Appendix B. 64. Fukui, pp. 2i5ff. 65. Ibid., p. 224. Fukui meets the problem of the title, which reappears if his theory is adopted, by reviving old alternatives—suggesting that the name of Ise Province was once associated with love (as there is some reason to believe), or that a court lady named Ise (not the poetess) may have been connected in some way with the work. 66. For fuller discussions, see Vos, I, 54!!; Fukui, pp. iff. 67. It should be noted that The Tale of Genji, though written around 1000, is often said to describe a period corresponding to the reign of Emperor Murakami (r. 946-67).

198

NOTES TO TALES I

1. "Kasuga village" probably refers to the vicinity of Kasugano (Kasuga Plain), now within the city of Nara. The plain, famous in classical poetry, lies at the western edge of the Kasugayama hills, between To-

199

\

Notes to Page 6g

Notes to Pages 70-71

daiji Temple and the Kofukuji Great Eastern Torii (an area now occupied in part by Nara Park). 2. "Moss-fern design" translates shinobuzuri.a term of uncertain meaning. Suri {zuri, "rubbing") was an ancient dyeing process that originally entailed stretching a length of cloth on a natural object, such as a rock, and rubbing it with the flowers, leaves, and/or stems of various plants. (During the Heian period the old method prevailed in rural districts, but artisans in the capital devised the more sophisticated technique of laying the cloth on a carved board and rubbing with a dye plant. The design of the garment described in the first poem was presumably imprinted in that way, with murasaki, discussed below, as the dye plant.) Of numerous theories concerning the meaning of shinobu in shinobuzuri (also called shinobu mojizuri), the one on which I have based the translation appears to be favored by modern IM scholars. It explains the term as a rubbing process employing the plant shinobu {Davallia bullata), a species of small, moss-like fern with short, thickly clustered, deep green leaves, found typically on rocks and earth in shady spots. The shinobu is thought to have produced a tangled, highly irregular pattern when rubbed against cloth—the "random pattern" of the poems. From medieval times on, Minamoto Toru's poem Michinoku no (the second below) has been cited in support of another theory concerning the origin of the term shinobuzuri, namely, that it derives from Shinobu District in Michinoku Province (now Shinobu District, Fukushima Prefecture), said to have been famous in antiquity for producing this kind of cloth. Supporters of the moss-fern theory maintain that references to Shinobu District in Michinoku no and other poems are merely plays on words suggested by the identity of sound. For the moss-fern theory, see Arai, p. 71; O / T , p. 188, n. 6. Many dictionaries take the compromise position that the fabric was produced at Shinobu through use of the moss-fern. See also Vos, II, 66, n. 13, and Minnich, p. 113. For a description of the suri process, see Nagashima, pp. 105-6. 3. Kasugano no. K W R (ZKT 34155), anon.; SKKS 994, Narihira. On the question of attributions to Narihira, see pp. 35, 64-65. It is most unlikely that Narihira would have composed a variation on a poem by a contemporary, since the object of the "allusive variation" (honkadori) technique was to give additional depth to one's own composition by associating it with a famous old poem. Arai, pp. 70-71. "Young purple" is a reference to the plant tnurasaki (Lithospermum officinale var. erythrorhizon), a gromwell common in dry meadows throughout Japan. Its hairy-leaved stalk, about two feet high, produces small, white, five-petalled flowers in summer; and its thick, purple roots yield a colored pigment that was prized as a dye agent in the Heian period. The roots were also used for medicinal purposes. (Cf. borage, a

related plant used in Europe as a demulcent and diaphoretic; and several plants of the genus Lithospermum that produce colored pigments, e.g. goldenseal [Hydrastis canadensis], the root of which yields a yellow dye.) Murasakj appears frequently in classical poetry, often as a metaphor. Here "young purple" refers obliquely to the two sisters who are responsible for the poet's agitated feelings. Shinobu no midare means both "random-patterned shinobu [-zuri]" and "confused feelings caused by love." 4. Michinoku no. KKS 724, Minamoto Toru (822-95); K W R (ZKT 34158), anon. Toru, a son of Emperor Saga, had a successful career that culminated in his appointment as Minister of the Left in 872 and his elevation to Junior First Rank in 887. He is best remembered for his magnificent house and grounds in the capital and his elegant villa at Uji, which later became the Byodoin Temple. I have treated Michinoku no as a preface introducing shinobu. The other possible interpretation would be, "My thoughts have grown disordered / As random patterns / On cloth from Shinobu in Michinoku." In line 4, -some has the dual meaning "begin" and "dye"—thus the line means both "I have begun to be confused" and "dyed in a random pattern." Some ("dye") is also an associative word (engo) linked to shinobu mojizuri.

200

2 i. 0\i mo sezu. KKS 616, Narihira; K W R (ZKT 31335 and 33439), Narihira. Nagame is a kfikc\otoba meaning both "prolonged rain" and "gazing pensively."

3 1. Hijikimo, believed to be the same as the edible brownish-yellow aquatic plant now called hijiki (variously identified in dictionaries as Cystophyllum jusijorme and Higikia fusiformus [Harv.] Okam.). T h e poem reveals the reason for this seemingly eccentric gift. 2. Omoi araba. T h e word used for mattress, hijikimono, is a pun on hijikimo, seaweed. 3. The Empress from the Second Ward was Fujiwara Koshi. See pp. 45-47. There is no evidence that would connect either Narihira or Koshi with the poem. T h e last sentence is said to be an interpolation.

4 1. Fujiwara Junshi, aunt of Koshi. The text hints that the principals in the episode are Koshi and Narihira, and many old commentaries say 201

Notes to Pages 71-74

Notes to Pages 74-7$

that when the lady disappeared it was because her male relatives took her to the imperial palace. Kaneko, p. 754. 2. Tsuki V aranu. KKS 747, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 33750), Narihira.

direction of the capital, or of a place associated with the name of a famous exile, or of some object suggesting his own forlorn state ("A derelict boat on the evening tide / Drifted like his friendless self"). Goto, I, 68; Helen Craig McCullough, The Taiheikj, p. 39Narihira's poem turns on the word \aeru, "return" (used here of waves receding from the shore, returning to the offing), which has the specific meaning of returning home. The poet feels a sense of isolation and nostalgia as he watches the waves roll in and recede; though they can return, he must journey on.

5 1. The reader is probably intended to infer that this was Koshi's aunt. 2. Hito shirenu. KKS 632, Narihira. 3. This sentence is believed to be an interpolation.

6

8

1. Shiratama \a. SKKS 851, Narihira. The poem's rather slight interest lies in a conventional play on the resemblance between dew and the ephemerality of human life. If the writer had but known of the tragedy to come, he would have preferred to die—to vanish swiftly as the dew— rather than experience the grief he now suffers. 2. The last paragraph is probably an interpolation. Koshi's cousin was Meishi, "the Empress from Somedono." Note that the earlier implication has been that the affair with Narihira occurred while Koshi was living with her aunt, Junshi, "the ex-Empress from the Fifth Ward" (Sections 3,4, and 5).

1. Shinano nam. SKKS 903, Narihira. The poem is evidently intended to demonstrate a cultivated man's reaction to a rare natural phenomenon, the still-active volcano of Mt. Asama on the border between the provinces of Shinano and Kozuke (Nagano and Gumma prefectures) in eastern Japan. T h e traveler from the far-off capital is attracted by the novelty of the scene and awed by the presence of the god who was believed responsible for the smoke. In the preceding episode the traveler is journeying along the Eastern Sea Road, from which Asama's smoke is invisible. Many of the older commentaries concerned themselves with this point and attempted to explain away the difficulty (the smoke was more widely visible in the Heian period, the traveler had wandered off the Eastern Sea Road, etc.), but it is probable that IM authors knew little of the geography of the provinces and were not particularly interested in such details. Arai, p. 138; Kubota, SKKS, II, 132; O / T , p. 115, n. 44.

7 1. This and related episodes (8-15, 115-16) are responsible for a wellestablished tradition that Narihira traveled extensively in the eastern provinces, either because he was banished after his elopement with Koshi or because he thought it prudent to avoid the displeasure of her powerful relatives. References to such travels also appear in KKS, but there is no mention of them in contemporary histories, diaries, or other primary sources. It has been suggested that the elopement and its sequel were kept out of the official history because of the high social positions of the principals, and that the tradition may be based on fact (Arai, p. 131); but in any case it is impossible to accept the IM episodes as historically accurate. Even the places mentioned are difficult to identify, and some may be fictitious, e.g. "the beach between Ise and Owari." 2. Itodoshlku. GSS 1353, Narihira. T h e GSS headnote resembles the IM introduction, but places the poet at an unnamed river. It is a convention of classical Japanese literature that a member of the upper classes leaves the capital with the utmost reluctance, even for a night, and that he suffers pitifully while traveling, both from the hardships of the road and from the reminders of home and loved ones that his refined sensibilities suggest to him—the sight of a bird flying in the 202

9 1. Yatsuhashi was located somewhere in what is now eastern Chiryii Township, Hekikai District, Aichi Prefecture, just off the Eastern Sea Road, the old main route between the capital and the eastern provinces. T h e bridges apparently disappeared before the end of the Heian period (Arai, p. 139), but memory of them has lingered in countless literary references and works of art, almost all linked in some way to Narihira and the present episode, which is among the best known in IM. 2. Karagoromo. KKS 410, Narihira; KWR ( Z K T 34650), Narihira. This poem, rather flat and unadorned in translation, is a technical tour de force, much less characteristic of Narihira's best poetry than of the court style proper. (For the court style, see the Introduction, pp. 31-38 and passim.) In addition to complying with the rules of the \a\hsubata game (ha and ba are written with the same sign and were originally identical in sound), the poet has contrived to include a pillow word, a 203

Notes to Pages 75-76

Notes to Pages 76-77

preface, two pivot words, and four associative words. He has also demonstrated his sensibility and his acquaintance with the Six Dynasties technique of reasoning ("I have a beloved w i f e . . . and so " ) . Although the poem has 33 syllables instead of the conventional 31, it is witty, elegant, and a marvel of virtuosity; it could scarcely be accused by Tsurayuki or anyone else of containing too much matter and too little art. Karagoromo ("robe") originally meant a robe of Chinese fabric, a garment of exceptional beauty and rarity. The term thus has connotations of elegance that qualify it as a pillow word. It is ordinarily used, as here, with him ("to wear"), \inarasu ("to wear habitually"), etc. Karagoromo \itsutsu is a preface to the pivot word nare- (a form of the verb nam, "to grow accustomed to," "to grow fond of"). Pivot words: nare, the verb stem in narenishi, "having grown accustomed to" and "having grown fond of"; tsuma ("skirt," "wife"). Associative words linked to \kara\goromo ("robe"): kjru ("to wear," used here in the continuative form kjtsutsu); nare {nareginu, an everyday garment); tsuma ("skirt"); haru ("to full cloth"; the sound is incorporated in harubaru, "distant"). 3. Suruga nam. SKKS 904, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31715), anon. The translation perhaps overemphasizes the first two lines, which are merely an ingenious preface introducing utsutsu ("reality," "one's waking moments") and suggesting the poet's present whereabouts. The poet plays on the similarity in sound between Utsu and utsutsu. The poem hinges on the belief that a person's spirit could visit the dreams of someone he loved. The author says, in effect, "It would be too much to hope to meet you here in this remote spot, but if you still loved me your spirit would at least visit my dreams." Kubota, SKKS, II, 133; Arai, pp. 151, 154. Mt. Utsu is a hill (279 m.) on the mountainous border between Shida and Abe districts in the present Shizuoka Prefecture (Suruga Province). One of the famous places on the Eastern Sea Road. 4. In the lunar calendar the end of the Fifth Month fell between midJune and mid-July. 5. Tohj shiranu. SKKS 1614, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31564), anon. 6. Mt. Fuji on the Shizuoka-Yamanashi prefectural boundary (old Suruga-Kai border) is Japan's tallest (3776 m.) as well as its most famous mountain. It is not, of course, 20 times as high as Mt. Hiei (848 m . ) , the most conspicuous peak in the capital area, and, as the site of the great Enryakuji monastery, correspondingly prominent in early Japanese history. Mt. Hiei rises northeast of Kyoto on the Kyoto-Shiga prefectural boundary (old Yamashiro-Omi border). 7. Shiojiri. The meaning of the word is uncertain, but it is usually explained as a high mound of sand used in producing salt. Sea water is

thought to have been poured on such mounds and left to evaporate. 6 / T , p. 117, n. 34; Arai, p. 153. 8. Sumidagawa (Sumida River). Probably to be identified with the present Tone River, the largest watercourse in the Kanto Plain, which is believed to have followed the Musashi-Shimosa border to Tokyo Bay until the seventeenth century, and to have been called the Sumida in its lower reaches. (Okami, p. 404, supp. n. 14; N C D , V, 4262.) It is still usual for different stretches of a Japanese river to have different names. Between 1621 and 1654, the government diverted the Tone River into its present channel, which carries the waters of five prefectures into the Pacific Ocean at Choshi. There is disagreement about the exact location of the old channel. Some writers identify it with the one presently occupied by the much smaller Edo River (formerly called the Futoi), which flows along the old Musashi-Shimosa border (present Tokyo-Chiba border) into the bay (NRD, XI, 76) ; others identify it with the nearby Naka River channel (NCD, V, 4260). The present Sumida River, which flows through the eastern part of the city of Tokyo into the bay, apparently was a tributary that joined the old Tone further upstream, where it is still known as the Arakawa. It seems to have begun to follow its present course, and thus to have acquired its present name of Sumida, only after the Tone's diversion. N C D , V, 4260, but see Kaneko, p. 485; O / T , p. 117, n. 35. A probably erroneous theory, based on a statement in a Heian diary, Sarashina ni\\i, identifies Narihira's river with the present Tama River, which empties into Tokyo Bay at Kawasaki. Arai, p. 156; DCJ, II, 2975-

204

9. Capital-bird (miya\odori). Believed to be identical with the modern yurikjimome (Larus ridibundus sibiricus Buturlin), a small gull with red bill and legs, indigenous to the northeastern part of the Asiatic mainland. The yuri\amome's head plumage is dark brown in summer and white in winter, when the birds migrate to Japan. For a picture, see Yamashina, p. 181. 10. Na ni shi owaba. KKS 411, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 32104), Narihira. Although this is one of the best known of the poems attributed to Narihira, it has been argued that the KKS headnote is a clumsy adaptation from IM, and that both this and the "iris poem" (n. 2 above) may originally have been listed in KKS as anonymous. See Arai, pp. 161-63. 10 1. Now a part of Sakato Township in northern Iruma District, Saitama Prefecture. Linguistic evidence shows that this ineptly positioned sentence is an interpolation. 2. Miyoshino no. K W R (ZKT 35223), anon.; ShokuGSIS 800, anon. Tanomu ("depend on," "seek shelter with") is a pivot word meaning 205

Notes to Pages 77-78

Notes to Pages 78-79

also ta no mo ("on the surface of the rice fields"). Kari ("wild goose") is a metaphor for the daughter. 3. Wa ga \ata ni. KWR (ZKT 35224), anon.; ShokuGSIS 801, Narihira.

2. Musashi stirrups (Musashi abumi). Musashi Province appears to have produced famous stirrups in antiquity. There is debate concerning their exact design, but they were probably either simple rope loops or iron rings suspended from the saddle by leather straps. O / T , p. 119, n. 31. For diagrams, see Kamata, p. 98. As in the present section, which incidentally marks the beginning of the term's literary career, "Musashi stirrups" appears in classical poetry and prose because of its association with \a\u and \akaru, two verbs with a wide range of meanings, most of them derived in some way from the idea of "hanging from" or "putting up against." Stirrups suggest those verbs because they hang from the saddle, or, according to one tiieory, because the rider puts his feet in them. (Vos, II, 77, n. 4; Arai, p. 185.) By writing "Musashi stirrups" on his letter instead of the conventional return address, "From Musashi," the man refers obliquely to omoi o \a\u, \o\oro 0 \a\u, or some similar phrase meaning "to love" ("hang one's thoughts [heart] on"), and so assures the lady of his continued devotion. 3. Musashi abumi. Here the lady takes up the phrase "Musashi stirrups" and uses it as a pillow word preceding \a\ete, an abridgement of omoi o \a\ete, "loving." Complexity is added by the insertion of sasuga ni, meaning both "yet, nevertheless" and "from the buckle (sasuga)." T h e translation omits line 1 and renders only one of the meanings implicit in line 2. An alternative might be:

11 1. Wasuru na yo. SIS 470. According to the SIS headnote, the poem was composed by a minor courtier, Tachibana Tadamoto (d. 955), who sent it to a lady while he was away on a journey. Its inclusion in IM has been regarded by some scholars as evidence for a cut-off date of around 960. O/T, p. 191, supp. n. 23; DNS, II, 196. In Fujiwara Shunzei's Komi fitteisho (1197), an important critical history of classical Japanese poetry, the poem is attributed to the poet Oe Tamemoto (fl. ca. 989). Arai, p. 177. 12 1. Musashino, an old name for the part of the Kanto Plain extending south from Kawagoe City in Saitama Prefecture to Fuchu in the Tokyo Metropolitan District. More broadly, Musashi Province (now Tokyo Metropolitan District, Saitama Prefecture, and part of Kanagawa Prefecture). 2. Musashino wa. KKS 17, anon. The KKS poem is identical with the present version except for the first line, where "Kasugano" appears instead of "Musashino." In setting and tone, however, the two differ sharply. The KKS verse pictures a young couple enjoying an early spring outing on Kasuga Plain (see Sec. 1, n. 1). They see some burners preparing to set fire to a field (a common practice, designed to clear away dead growth) and beg them to spare it, at least for a day. Wa\a\usa ("young grass") was often used as a pillow word for tsuma ("spouse"), probably because the fresh green blades were regarded as particularly beautiful and appealing. (Another theory: wa\a\usa was thought to symbolize ever-young conjugal love.) Kaneko, p. 104; O / T , p. 191, supp. n. 24. 3. In this episode the author summarizes his story (first two sentences) and then goes back to fill in the details. Evidently the man had not run very far. 13 1. The letter informs the lady that the writer is having an affair with someone in Musashi. Because of his old relationship with her, he would rather not confess the truth, but to conceal it would, he feels, create a barrier between them and thus destroy a cherished intimacy. 206

Loving you in spite of all, And still relying on you— Even as Musashi stirrups Depend from their buckles— I think your silence cruel indeed. Yet I should find it most unpleasant Were you to ask for news of me. The last line (last two lines of the translation) means that the lady would consider it hypocritical for the man to express concern about her while visiting another woman. 4. Toeba iu. Musashi abumi reappears as a pillow word preceding \akaru. Here \a\aru is not a verb but a homophonous adjective, "such," and thus there is no logical relationship between Musashi abumi and the rest of the poem. J

4

1. ~Nakanaka ni. T h e poem closely resembles MYS 3086. The last line contains an elegant metaphor—tama no o, "a string of gems," representing a short life (symbolized by the shortness of the distance between any

207

Notes to Pages 79-80 two gems on the string)—but the poem is damned by the unacceptable word \uwa\o, "silkworm." O / T , p. 191, supp. n. 25; Arai, p. 192. Male and female silkworms were thought to live together happily. 2. By leaving in the middle of the night, a man indicated lack of interest. 3. Yo mo a~keba. Again, deplorably inelegant. Some of the terms in the poem are obscure. For other possible interpretations, see O / T , p. 192, supp. n. 26; Vos, II, 79, notes 14-16. 4. Karihara no. Except for the place name, the poem is identical with KKS 1090, anon. IM merely substitutes a Michinoku landmark famous in legend and classical poetry, the Pine of Aneha at Kurihara, for KKS's Ogurosaki Mitsu-no-kojima (no longer identifiable). Aneha is now a part of Kannari Township, Kurihara District, Miyagi. The man implies that he would like to take the girl home with him, but the poem can also mean "I don't love you; in fact, I consider you scarcely human. Naturally I won't take you with me." This rather cruel farewell scarcely seems to illustrate the hero's kindly nature, but perhaps country folk were thought incapable of grasping the subtleties of city wit. There is a conventional pun on matsu ("pine tree" and "wait").

1. Shinobuyama. KWR (ZKT 31743), anon.; SCSS 944, Narihira. Possibly an adaptation of KKS 1038. One theory identifies Mt. Shinobu (Shinobuyama) with the present hill of that name (273 m.) in northern Fukushima City, Shinobu District, Fukushima Prefecture (Vos, II, 80, n. 8; Arai, p. 202; Kamata, p. 113), but considerable evidence suggests that it was, rather, a general name loosely applied at various times to all or some of the peaks along the western boundary of Shinobu District (NCD, IV, 3235; DCJ, III, 3922-23). It figures here as a Michinoku place-name introducing an inflected form of the homophonous verb shinobu ("to conceal"; here "concealing oneself," thus "unobserved"). Kayou ("travel"), michi ("road," "way"), and o\u ("interior") are associative words linked with yama ("mountain"). The poet has also woven the name of the province into the last three lines: MICHI mo gana I Hito NO l{o\oro no I OKU mo mirube\u. 2. Distrusting her ability to compose a suitable poem, she decides not to reply at all. The text no doubt intends a contrast with the brash young lady in the preceding section. Here the implication is that sensibility is to be found even in the provinces, and that the cultivated traveler recognizes and respects it. See Arai, pp. 203-4.

Notes to Pages 81-82 16 1. Aritsune (815-77) belonged to one of the old court families who in the ninth century were gradually being pushed out of influential positions by the Fujiwara. Two of his three sisters were minor imperial consorts, and one of them, Seishi (Shizuko; d. 866), bore the first son of Emperor Montoku. The son, Prince Koretaka, was his father's favorite, but he failed to win nomination as crown prince because his backing was less powerful than that of the emperor's fourth son, Prince Korehito (Emperor Seiwa). When Korehito was born, his maternal grandfather, Fujiwara Yoshifusa, held the high office of Minister of the Right, while Prince Koretaka's grandfather, Ki no Natora, had died three years earlier as a mere guards officer, and his only uncle, Aritsune, was likewise a minor guards officer. Prince Koretaka had represented Aritsune's sole hope for advancement at court. During the first six years of the prince's life, while he was still a potential emperor, Aritsune enjoyed a good deal of influence in spite of his low office, but his prestige diminished abruptly after Prince Korehito's appointment as crown prince, in 850, and vanished completely after Prince Koretaka became a monk following an illness in 872. He held only provincial governorships and other insignificant offices, and the IM description of his impoverishment is probably essentially accurate. Aritsune's daughter was at one time Narihira's wife, and he and Narihira appear to have been intimate friends, drawn together partly by hostility to the Fujiwara and partly by a mutual interest in poetry. 2. Te o orite. There is no independent evidence to support the attribution of this and other poems in Section 16 to Aritsune, or to identify the friend with Narihira, as was done by the compilers of ShokuSZS and most of the older commentaries. 3. Toshi dani mo. ShokuSZS 1542, Narihira. 4. Kore ya \ono. According to a popular legend, the inhabitants of earth were occasionally visited by heavenly maidens, crowned with garlands of flowers and dressed in many-hued skirts, who danced with marvelous grace. Diaphanous robes made of birds' feathers enabled the maidens to fly between heaven and earth. See the celebrated No play Hagoromo (Feather Robe), translated in Nippon Gakujutsu Shinkokai, Japanese Noh Drama, III, igff. The poem implies that the friend is someone of high social status. Ama is perhaps to be taken as a pivot word, in which case the second line would mean also "Feather robe for a nun {ama)." 5. Akj ya \uru. SKKS 1496, Ki no Aritsune, with the headnote "Responding to the gift of a robe from Lord Narihira." The attribution is probably based on IM. Autumn was regarded as the season of sad reveries and melancholy.

208 209

Notes to Pages 82-83 J

7

1. Ada nari to. KKS 62, anon. Headnote resembles IM introduction. The cherry blossoms represent the lady. "People say that my affections are evanescent, but I have been faithful in spite of your neglect. It is you who are fickle." 2. Kyo kpzu wa. KKS 63, Narihira; K W R ( Z K T 35053), Narihira. "If I hadn't come today, you would probably have been entertaining someone else tomorrow." The poem has been much admired for its wit. 18 1. Kurenai ni. The gift of a fading white chrysanthemum, its petals tinged with pink, showed that the lady appreciated the poignancy of the changes that time imposes on nature and man. (Her professed inability to see the reddened petals was a fashionable pose.) The real message of the poem: "I have heard that you are something of a gallant, but I see no indication of it." "Reddish tinge" suggests passion. Cf. kpsho\u ("red color") and its homonym \osho\u ("amorousness"). 2. Kurenai ni I Niou ga ue no. The man politely rejects the implied invitation. Heian ladies wore several layers of lined and unlined widesleeved robes, carefully selected to create pleasing color harmonies appropriate to the season. The robe in the poem was perhaps the winter costume called "white chrysanthemum," a white robe lined with a color defined by some authorities as dark red and by others as orchid. Ikeda et al., p. 463, n. 36; Nagashima, p. 122. (Vos believes that the description "suggests the so-called sa\uragasane, in which . . . the outside of the sleeve is white and the lining red." The sakuragasane, or "cherry blossom robe," was, however, a spring costume, and thus would not have been worn in other seasons. See Vos. II, 83, n. 9.)

19 1. KKS lists the authors of the poems in this section as Aritsune's daughter (784) and Narihira (785). The wording of 785 varies slightly. The headnote to 784 says, "During Lord Narihira's marriage to the daughter of Ki no Aritsune, he once became angry with her; he visited her in the daytime but always left in the evening. Finally she sent him the following poem .. ." In the early Heian period, most married couples either lived together in the wife's family home or took a house of their own. Some, however, lived apart from one another, and in such cases the frequency, timing, and duration of the husband's visits furnished a good indication of the 210

Notes to Pages 84-86 marriage's success. A satisfied husband spent the night. See W. H. McCullough, p. 105 and passim. 20 1. Kimi ga tame. GYS 1606, Narihira. "I send you this branch not only so that you may admire its beauty, but also to remind you of the flaming passion in my heart." (Some commentators take the poem to mean that the man's ardor has turned the leaves red. O / T , p. 123, n. 31.) The beginning of the Third Month in the lunar calendar usually fell between March 20 and April 20. 2. Itsu no ma ni. The lady pretends to misunderstand the man's feelings. She accuses him of losing interest, making an implicit pun on a\i, which means both "autumn" and "growing weary of." "How quickly your sentiments have changed. For you, it seems, there is no such thing as spring—only a\i." 21 1. Idete inaba is ascribed to Narihira in the two movable type editions of KWR (ZKT 33317 and KTe IX, 434), both of which, however, carry the notation "[according to] one text." Older KWR texts list Ki no Tomonori as the author. Some scholars have argued that IM borrowed the verse from the original KWR, and that the attribution to Narihira represents an interpolation. See Arai, p. 249. Ki no Tomonori (fl. ca. 890) was Tsurayuki's cousin and a KKS compiler. 2. Hito wa isa. SCSS 952, anon. Possibly an adaptation of MYS 149, an elegy on a dead emperor (Arai, p. 253): Hito wa yoshi Omoiyamu tomo Tamakazura Kage ni mietsutsu Wasuraenu kamo.

Though the thoughts of others May turn elsewhere, Never shall I forget, For I see his face before me, Luminous as a gemmed fillet.

A tamakazura, here translated "gemmed fillet," was in antiquity a string of precious stones worn by a lady on her head, with the ends hanging free. Like "Musashi stirrups" (Sec. 13, n. 2 ) , it was used as a pillow word for the verb \a\u ("to hang," "to be attached to"). In this poem it precedes the \age of omo\age ("face," "figure"), regarded as a homophone of \a\e, the continuative stem of ka\u. 3. Ima wa tote. SCSS 881, anon. Wasuregusa ("forgetting-grass") is a kind of day lily (Hemerocallis aurantiaca Bak.). It has long, narrow basal leaves and faintly fragrant yellow flowers. Frequently mentioned in classical literature. 211

Notes to Pages 86-88

Notes to Pages 89-90

4. Wasuregusa. ShokuGSS 978, Narihira. "I still love you; otherwise I should not find it necessary to try to forget you." 5. Wasururan to. SKKS 1361, anon., appears to be a minor revision of KKS 718. 6. Na\azora ni. SKKS 1369, anon. "If you no longer trust me, I do not wish to live."

Tatsutayama appears to have been a general name for the mountains in what is now western Tachino, Misato Village, Ikoma District, Nara Prefecture. This area on the old Yamato-Kawachi border, traversed by the important Yamato-Naniwa road, was dreaded by travelers, not only because of the wild and difficult terrain, but also because there was danger of attack by brigands. The lady's poem reflects such fears. The first two lines, omitted in the translation, mean, "When the winds blow, / White waves rear up (tatsu) in the offing." They constitute a preface introducing Tatsutayama (with tatsu functioning as a pivot word) and are irrelevant to the sense of the poem. (It has been suggested by numerous commentators, however, that "white waves" is a metaphor for robbers.) O / T , p. 127, n. 22; N C D , IV, 3881a; Arai, pp. 290, 298-99. 5. Kimi ga atari. SKKS 1368, anon.; MYS 3032. Mt. Ikoma is usually identified with the present peak of the same name (642 m . ) , the highest point in the range forming the Nara-Osaka (Yamato-Kawachi) boundary. It stands on the border between Ikoma District in Nara Prefecture and Hiraoka City in Osaka Prefecture. (Hiraoka City adjoins Yao City.) See Takagi et al., Ill, 293. 6. Kimi kpmu to. SKKS 1207, anon.

22

i. Ukj nagara. SKKS 1362, anon. 2. Aimite tea. ShokuGSS 833, Narihira. The translation follows O / T , p. 125, n. 28. It is also possible to read the first line as Aimide wa, in which case the first two lines of the translation become, "Though we do not meet / Yet are our hearts inseparable." The man, assured of the lady's remorse, feels able to pretend a certain coolness. The message in his poem is either, "Though you have behaved badly, I won't cast you off; I'll come to see you one of these days," or "Perhaps it would be best not to meet for a while; I'll come around some day." The kawashi of \awashima ("river-island") is a pivot word, functioning also as the continuative stem of the verb \awasu ("to exchange") in the phrase \o\oro o \awashi ("sharing feelings of love"). 3. A\i no yo no. KWR (ZKT 32840), anon. The text does not state clearly which of the lovers has composed the poem, but most commentators take it to be the man. Those who pronounce in favor of the lady are perhaps influenced by KWR's notation, "Attributed to Lady Ise [fl. ca. 935] in one text." The present version varies slightly from the one preserved in KWR, possibly because the poem has been reworked by an IM author. (Kamata, p. 151.) 4. Akj no yo no ... Tori ya nakjnan. ShokuKKS 1165, anon. 2

3

1. Tsutsui tsu no. T h e meaning of tsu in line 1 is unknown. Ka\eshi, here translated "measured," may instead mean "talked about" (ii\a\eshi), or, possibly, "less than" ("my height, once less than the well curb's"). See O / T , p. 126, n. 8. 2. The couple was presumably living with the wife's parents. See Sec. 19, n. 1. 3. Takayasu was a name for the area now occupied by Yao City in Osaka Prefecture. It becomes clear below that the man and wife live across the mountains in the adjoining province of Yamato. 4. Kaze fu\eba. KKS 994, anon., with a headnote resembling the IM introduction; KWR (ZKT 31314), Kakuyama no Hananoko; ibid. (ZKT 31734), Kakonoyama no Hananoko. Nothing is known of Hananoko. 212

24 1. The ancient law codes permitted a deserted wife to remarry after three years. O / T , p. 128, n. 1; Vos, II, 89, n. 4. 2. Aratama no. ShokuKKS 1218, anon. Aratama appears in classical poetry as a pillow word for toshi ("year") and other terms involving the concept of time, such as tsuki ("month"), hi ("day"), and haru ("spring"). Its meaning is no longer understood. 3. Azusayumi... Uruwashimi seyo. The first two lines consist of an apparently irrelevant enumeration of different types of bows (yumi)— azusayumi, mayumi, tsukjyumi—identified in each case by the type of wood used in the weapon's construction. The tree known in antiquity as azusa has not been satisfactorily identified, bat probably was a type of birch (Betula ulmijolia Sieb. et Zucc.); tsuki is presently thought to have been a name for the zelkova (Zelkpva serrata, now called keyakj.); and mayumi is a spindle tree of the Euonymus genus (Euonymus sieboldianus). Attempts to link the lines to the remainder of the poem are rather unconvincing—"Just as there are different kinds of bows, so there are different kinds of people [or love]," etc.—and it seems best to treat them as a jo introducing toshi, with tsuki as a pivot word meaning both "tsuki tree" and "month." The conceit may have been suggested to an. 213

Notes to Pages 90-91

Notes to Pages 91-92

IM author by an old song used in the dance form known as \agura. "A bow is after all a bow. Birch bows, spindle tree bows, zelkova bows—all will serve, all will serve." O / T , p. 193, supp. n. 33; Arai, pp. 310-11; Tsuchihashi and Konishi, p. 302. 4. Azusayumi.. . Yorinishi mono o. ShokuGSS 809, anon. Similar poems: MYS 2985 and 2986, KKS 610. Here azusayumi is clearly irrelevant to the sense of the poem, functioning only as a pillow word to introduce hi\edo hi\anedo, two forms of the verb hi\u ("to pull," "to draw toward"). I have taken hikedo hi\anedo to mean "Whether others woo me [draw me toward them] or not." For other possible interpretations, see O / T , p. 194, supp. n. 34. In the last line, yorinishi (from yoru, "to approach") is an associative word linked to "bow," the rationale being that a bow bends toward the archer when the string is pulled.

Mirume (also called tniru; Codium mucronatum J. Ag.) is a small, prolifically branching, dark green, edible seaweed, found on rocks in the shallow coastal waters of Japan. 26 1. Omoezu. SKKS 1357, anon. Possibly to be construed as a lighthearted verse in which the poet makes fun of his predicament. See Kubota, SKKS, II, 491.

27 1. Minakuchi ni. A polite reassurance. For a slightly different interpretation of this section, see Vos, I, 193, and Arai, p. 329.

28 2

5

1. A\i no no ni. KKS 622, Narihira (slightly different wording); KWR (ZKT 33883), Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31435), anon. Autumn, bamboo grass, and morning are all words associated in classical poetry with dew. 2. Mirume na\i. KKS 623, Ono no Komachi; KWR (ZKT 33879), Komachi. The poem appears in KKS immediately after Narihira's Aki no no ni, but the two are unrelated there. For Komachi, see pp. 39-41. The poem is studded with witty ambiguities. The would-be gatherer of seaweed, wasting his time in a barren bay, represents the lady's suitor, who persists in calling at her house despite repeated rebuffs. The first three lines can be read Mirume naki \wa ga mi o] ura to shiraneba ya, with the bracketed words treated as an introduction to ura, irrelevant to the general sense, which is: "Does he not know that there is no seaweed in this bay?" (Komachi uses an identical device in KKS 938: Wabinureba I MI o i:\igusa no. See Saeki, p. 225; B/M, p. 222.) But because of a play on mirume na\i—which can mean not only "no seaweed" but also (1) "I whom you cannot meet," (2) "You who cannot meet me," and (3) "I who am not at all an interesting person"—wa ga mi o acquires a semantic role. The phrase mirume naki wa ga mi o u- means: "The sorrow of being unable to meet" or "The sorrow I feel because I am such an insignificant person." The man, in short, cannot be sure whether he is being encouraged or discouraged. For other possible implications, see O / T , p. 128, n. 17. Ura ("bay"), \arenade ("incessantly," "not ceasing"; here translated "persists in"), and ama ("fisherman") are associative words linked to mirume ("seaweed")—\arenade because its dictionary form, \aru, is homophonous with \aru ("to reap," as grain or seaweed). 214

1. Nadote \a\u. The phrase au go katami ni nariniken ("It has become impossible to meet") contains the names of two kinds of woven baskets, ko (or go) and katami, and thus has the added meaning, "We had become a k° ° r katami." Musubishi, a form of musubu ("to bind together"), is an associative word for water because of the homophonous musubu, "to scoop up water with the hands." The translation fails to reproduce the humor of the original, which intimates that the basket has developed a leak. O / T , p. 194, supp. n. 36; Arai, p. 334. 29 1. The text hints that "the Mother of the Crown Prince" is Fujiwara Koshi. (In some IM mss. the poet is identified as an officer in the Imperial Guards, an organization in which Narihira held several posts during his career.) The party would presumably have been arranged by Koshi to honor someone in her service. Arai, p. 336. Birthday celebrations among the Heian nobility usually took the form of decennial observances held from the individual's fortieth year on. They were sponsored by relatives, or occasionally by friends or patrons— even by the emperor if the person were sufficiently important. The festivities always included a banquet, dances, and the recitation of poems; for exalted personages, there were also prayers at temples and largesse on a grand scale. A celebration of this kind ordinarily took place in the season thought to be appropriate to the year of the individual's birth (spring for the years of the Tiger, Hare, and Dragon; summer for the years of the Snake, Horse, and Sheep, and so forth), and it apparently was timed to coincide, if possible, with a pleasant seasonal phenomenon. Ceremonies held 215

Notes to Pages 92-93

Notes to Pages 94-gS

in the spring were called cherry blossom celebrations {hana no ga); those in the summer, fan celebrations (ogi no ga); those in the fall, autumn leaf celebrations (momiji no ga); those in the winter, snow celebrations {yukj no ga). See Jingu Shicho, XLI, 345, 355. The desire to link events described in IM to historical incidents has led some commentators to suggest that this particular party was sponsored by Koshi in honor of her cousin, Fujiwara Meishi, Emperor Seiwa's mother. The theory overlooks the evidence of the chronicles, which show that Meishi's fortieth birthday celebration took place in 868, the year before Yozei became crown prince (and thus before Koshi could have been called "the Mother of the Crown Prince"), and that birthday celebrations honoring that lady regularly took place in the winter, not in the spring. DNS, IV, 73; Arai, p. 337. 2. Hana ni a\anu. SKKS 105, Narihira. The attribution to Narihira, though unverified, has been accepted by some commentators, who feel that the poem's emotional intensity and simple diction are characteristic of Narihira's work. (See Kubota, SKKS, I, 131; Arai, pp. 336, 338.) Whether or not one wishes to accept this view, it seems likely that here, as in many other instances, an IM author has tried to endow a verse with new dimensions of interest by placing it in a fictitious setting. In the present context it can be interpreted either as a graceful expression of thanks from a guest to a hostess or as a lament for a lost love, with the blossoms symbolizing Koshi.

Shizu: a striped cloth made by dyeing the woof. It was woven from thread obtained from hemp and other fibers in antiquity, before the introduction of advanced textile techniques from China. Nagashima, p. 25.

30 1. Au kpto wa. SCSS 951, anon.

31 1. "This grass looks splendid now, but wait until it withers!" ("You're quite the lady's man, but you won't last forever.") The lady's two sentences are identical with the last two lines of an old poem, presumably well known at the time. The poem is cited in O/T, p. 194, supp. n. 38. 2. Tsumi mo na\i. "It is not true, as you imply, that I have forgotten you. To wish an innocent man bad luck will not hurt anyone but yourself; you are the one whom people will forget." The man cleverly turns the lady's metaphor against her, buttressing his position with a bit of Buddhist doctrine from the Lotus Sutra. For forgetting-grass, see Sec. 21, n. 3; for the Buddhist doctrine, Vos, II, 93, n. 9; Arai, p. 343.

32 1. This poem is not recorded elsewhere, but KKS 888 has the same first two lines. See also K W R (ZKT 33003).

2l6

33 1. Mubara (Ubara) was an ancient district in the area of the present city of Ashiya, Hyogo Prefecture. O/T, p. 131, n. 20; N C D , I, 320, 865. 2. Ashibe yori. Probably adapted from MYS 617, which has the same first three lines. (Arai, p. 351.) The first two lines (last three lines of the translation) function as a preface introducing the pivot word iyamashi ("ever-increasing," "more and more"). 3. Komorie ni. ShokuGSS 686, anon. The lady adopts the man's imagery, working in the associative words June ("boat"), sao ("pole"), \omorie ("hidden inlet"), and sasu ("to rise," as the tide, one of this verb's many meanings). Sashite ("sounding") is a pivot word.

34 1. leba eni. SCSS 637, Narihira. The poem may be an adaptation of one in KWR (ZKT 32950), which means essentially the same thing: leba eni I lwaneba \urushi / Yo no na\a o / Nagekite nomi mo / Tsu\usubekj. \ana. Arai, p. 354.

35 1. Tama no o 0. SCSS 950, anon. Generally agreed to be a slight reworking of MYS 763 (Lady Ki, fl. early 8th c ) , a very similar poem that appears also in KWR (ZKT 34054). Arai, p. 360. Uncertainty about the meaning of awao has made this poem a knotty problem for commentators. The translation "loose braid" represents the present consensus, which links awao linguistically to awa ("bubble"), and takes it to mean a secure but loose interlacement of the kind technically called a prolonge knot, easily unraveled at the wearer's convenience. Similar knots were used to secure necklaces in medieval Europe. See the illustrations in Nagata, p. 173, and Plummer, Sec. 147. See also Takagi, I, 268; O / T , p. 132, n. 5; Arai, pp. 356-60. A minority opinion is represented in Vos's translation (I, 197): Because we tied The threads of our lives, Twisting them into a complicated knot [Like] knotting [the ends of] a string of beads, I think we shall certainly meet [again], Even though [our relations] have ceased.

217

Notes to Pages 95-97

Notes to Pages 98-99

Tama no o functions both in its literal meaning, "a string of gems," and as a metaphor for the couple's lives. (See Sec. 14, n. 1.)

Man'yoshu, and shared in the compilation of Gosenshu. The last sentence presumably refers to the fact that the princess and Itaru were related.

36 1. Tani sebami. Virtually identical with MYS 3507 and ShokuGSIS 905, anon. The first three lines are a preface ending with the pivot word taemu (from tayu, "to come to an e n d " ) .

37 1. Ware narade. SCSS 823, Narihira. 2. Futari shite. Almost identical with MYS 2919.

38 1. Kimi ni yori. Narihira is listed by ShokuKKS as the author of this poem (952). The attribution is suspect, but there appears to be an intended reference to Narihira or someone like him. Ki no Aritsune was Narihira's friend and father-in-law; also, the element of humor in the exchange hinges on the first poet's reputation as a gallant.

39 1. Emperor Junna (786-840; r. 823-33). After his abdication he lived in the Western Palace (also called Junna Palace), usually said to have been located east of Omiya Avenue and north of Shijo. See also Sec. 129, n. 1. 2. Princess Shushi, called Takaiko, died in 848 at the age of eighteen. Arai, p. 373. 3. Minamoto Itaru, a grandson of Emperor Saga (r. 809-23), held a succession of fairly high offices. His reputed prowess as a lover seems to have been an invention of the IM author. O / T , p. 195, supp. n. 45. 4. Ho aware. A reference to the Lotus Sutra, in which the Buddha says that nirvana is not extinction. T h e poem has the additional meaning, "Judging from the delay, she may not be dead after all." Arai, p. 376; Vos, II, 97, n. 26; de Bary et ah, Sources of the Japanese Tradition, p. 123. 5. The author's criticism seems to me to mean that greater.sensitivity was to have been expected of a man noted for his ability to understand the feelings of others. For different interpretations, see O / T , p. 134, n. 6, and Arai, p. 376. 6. The last paragraph is believed to be an interpolation. ( O / T , p. 134, n. 7; Arai, p. 379.) Minamoto Shitago (911-83) was a scholar who compiled a pioneer Chinese-Japanese dictionary, helped prepare glosses for

2l8

40 1. Idete inaba. K W R (ZKT 33204), Narihira; ShokuGSS 836, Narihira. In both collections, and in some IM texts, the first line reads either ltoite mo or Itoite wa ("When there is ill feeling"). Such a phrase seems to fit the context better than ldete inaba, which would normally be translated, "If he/she leaves." It has been suggested (Arai, p. 394) that a copyist's error has produced the present first line, which is identical with that of the first poem in the preceding section. My translation is a rather uneasy compromise between the two versions, as is Vos's (I, 201). For another interpretation, see O / T , p. 135, n. 22. 2. The Hour of the Dog was 7-9 P.M. 41 1. Blue was the color prescribed for use by officials of the Sixth Rank (a low rank, presumably the one to which the sister's husband belonged). 2. Murasakj no. KKS 868, Narihira, with the headnote "On sending a cloak to his brother-in-law"; KWR (ZKT 34347), Narihira. For murasakj, see Sec. 1, n. 3. Since the KKS headnote fails to specify the color of the cloak, the poet's intent is obscure. If the poem was indeed composed to accompany a gift, there is some reason to conclude that the cloak's color was deep purple {murasakj), the color worn by officials of the First Rank, since a reference to the gift would normally be expected in the poem. In that case, murasakj may have functioned as a metaphor for the recipient—a complimentary comparison, since the plant would suggest the color worn by men of the highest court rank and thus associated with exalted social status, good breeding, and superior personal attainments and character. See Kamata, p. 400. In the IM context, murasakj stands for the poet's wife, and iro kpkj means not only "strong, deep color" but also "strong, deep love." T h u s : "When a man's love for his wife is strong and deep, his affection extends to all who are associated with her; he makes no distinction between her and them." (Some commentators have seen in the mention of plants [kusakj] an implicit reference to the color of the Sixth Rank cloak, which is identified as roso, or midori'iro. In the Heian period, however, midori, now "green," meant "dark blue." See Yamagishi, III, 458, supp. n. 416.) On first reading, it is tempting to conclude that the poem depicts a carpet of flowers engulfing the other plants on the plain, but the adjective 219

"Notes to Pages 99-100

Notes to Pages 100-102.

koki h inappropriate for white blossoms. The reference could conceivably be to the fresh green of the murasa\i's new leaves, since spring, rather than the summer blooming season, is suggested by the words me ("bud") and. ham ("to swell" and "spring"), concealed in the homophonous me ("'eye") and haru ('''"far") in the phrase me mo haru ni ("as far as the eye can reach": "vast" in the translation). It is worth noting, however, that the KKS compilers have classified Murasakj. no under "Miscellaneous," rather than under either "Summer" or "Spring." Instead of striving tor realism, the poet seems to be playing with words: "When the color of the mtii-asa\t (which is, of course, purple, because murasa\i means purple 1 is strong and deep, then the whole plain is purple." The poem, can perhaps best be understood as a witty variation on KKS 867 below. 3. KKS 867, anon.

5. The season when the hototogisu sings. The bird was thus a suitable topic. 6. Ion obi- "I shall believe you as long as you continue to meet me."

Murasaki no Hitom.oto yue ni M'usashino no Kusa ws minagara Aware to 20 mini.

Because of a single Murasa\i plant, 1 look with affection On all the grasses Of Musashi Plai am.

Here again murasaki is a metaphor for the poet's wife. The poem's meaning approximates that of the IM poem. For Musashi Plain, see Sec. 12, n. 1. 42 1, Idete \oshi. SKKS 1408, Narihira.

44 1. See Sec. 85, n. 3. 2. Idete yu\u. KWR (ZKT 33203), Narihira. The point of the poem is in a pun on mo, which can mean both "train" and "misfortune." "I have removed the mo on your behalf; thus you will, I trust, suffer no calamity while you are away. And since I have passed the mo on to you, I shall henceforth have neither train nor misfortune."

45 1. The end of the Sixth Month in the lunar calendar fell roughly between mid-July and mid-August. 2. Yu\u hotaru. GSS 252, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 34854), anon. The cool breeze, suggesting the approach of autumn, prompts the poet to use the wild goose as a metaphor for the dead girl's spirit, since geese return in the. fall after departing in the spring, -just as the girl has departed from, the world in. the springtime of life. His message thus becomes, "Tell the lady that we long for her return." 3. Kuregatak\i. ShokuKKS 270, Narihira. Some commentators assume a lapse of time between, the preceding poem and this one. The man, they suggest, has shown his respect for the dead, girl by staying in. seclusion on one of the prescribed mourning days, and as a result has been feeling rather bored. Aral, p. 430.

43 1. Prince Kaya (794-^71) was a son of Emperor Kammu (r. 781-806). 2. Hototogisu: a small bird of the cuckoo family (Cuculus poliocephalus), noted for the beauty of its song. Often mentioned in classical poetry. For a picture, see Yamashina, p. 134. 3. Hototogisu. . . Oman mono kara. KKS 147, anon. The bird represents the girl. 4. Na non-ii tjisu, Here the hototogisu is called by its other name, shide no taosa, which means something like "field boss" or "agricultural overseer." Jon ("huts," "cottages") were used by the overseers as temporary quarters during busy seasons. (The rationale behind the name shide no taosa is no longer understood. It may be of onomatopoetic origin, based on a fancied resemblance to the bird's song. For other theories, see Aral, pp. 413-17, and V'os. II. tea, n. 11.)

46 1. Me\aru to mo. KWR (ZKT 32913), Narihira.

47 1. Onusa no. KKS 706, anon, with the headnote "Sent to Lord. Narihira by a lady who thought him fickle." "Sacred wands" translates onusa, branches of the sacred sa\a\i tree (Cleycra japonica, a relative of the camellia) to which strips of cloth or paper were attached. The. wands were used in Shinto purification ceremonies held on the banks of rivers. After 3 ceremony the spectators attempted to puli an onusa close enough to rub their bodies against it and transfer their defilements to it. The wands were then thrown into the

Notes to Pages 102-3

Notes to Pages ioy-$

river. (Saeki, p. 241; Arai, p. 442; Vos, II, 104, n. 7.) In the poem onusa is a pillow word for hi\u te ("pulling hands"). 2. Onusa to. KKS 707, Narihira. The wording varies slightly.

interpretation: "I have always felt perfectly at ease with you before; why must you spoil our pleasant relationship with talk of love?" O/T, p. 139, n. 24; Vos, II, 105, n. 11. Associative words linked to \usa ("grass"): me ("bud," homophonous with the first syllable of mezurashi\i, "rare," "novel"), ha ("leaf," incorporated in \oto no ha, "words"), ura ("tip," homophonous with the ura of ura na\u, "without reserve"). Hatsu\usa no was perhaps intended as a pillow word for mezurashi\i (Arai, p. 451). This frankly erotic exchange was a source of considerable embarrassment to medieval commentators anxious to protect Narihira, the supposed author of the first poem, from the charge of contemplated incest. Most of them felt obliged to do violence to the meaning of the man's poem by some such interpretation as, "How anxiously I hope that a good husband can be found for this fresh young maiden." As eighteenthcentury scholars pointed out, however, marriage between half-siblings occurred in Japan as late as the beginning of the tenth century. (One reason for this, perhaps, was that children of the same man by different mothers were reared separately, and often knew one another only slightly, if at all.) There is in any case no independent evidence that would connect either the poem or the episode with Narihira. For extensive quotations from medieval and later commentaries, see Arai, p. 453-60.

48 1. Ima zo shim. KKS 969, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 32150), Narihira. According to KKS, which has a headnote closely resembling the IM account, the friend who failed to appear was Ki no Toshisada (d. 881), a minor official and KKS poet. "Houses where I am expected" means ladies' houses. The sensibility revealed in the poem was admired by eighteenth-century classical scholars, who regarded it as unquestionably authentic. Arai, p. 448.

49 1. In some IM texts, the first sentence reads, "Once a man, stirred by the sight of his beautiful younger sister playing the koto, composed this verse." It was in that form that the episode was known to Murasaki Shikibu, who made it the basis of a scene in the "Agemaki" chapter of The Tale of Genji. (See Waley, The Tale of Genji, II, 878. For the koto see Arai, p. 450.) 2. Ura wa\ami. KWR (ZKT 34394), Narihira; SSZS 1016, Narihira. By a convention of classical literature, travelers invariably sleep on beds of grass. Ura ("tip," translated with wa\ami as "fresh"), musubu ("tie"), and ne ("sleeping") are associative words linked to grass—ne because of the homophonous ne ("root"). This allegorical poem might also be rendered, How regrettable it is That someone else Will marry The young maiden So fresh and delightful to sleep with. Wakakusa ("young grass"), which here represents the sister, has the connotation of "spouse" (see Sec. 12, n. 2). Line 5 probably contains a hidden reference to the koto (note 1 above) and its strings (o). O/T, p. 139, n. 22; Arai, p. 451.

3. Hatsu\usa no. SSZS 1017, anon. Here I follow Murasaki Shikibu and those commentators who take the lady's reply as evidence of an intimacy that she has no intention of ending. (Waley, The Tale of Genji, II, 878; Yamagishi, IV, 443-44; Arai, p. 452.) There is another possible 222

5° 1. Tori no kp o. Probably based on a poem by Ki no Tomonori in KWR (ZKT 33048), from which it differs only in the last two lines. The conceit seems to be of Chinese origin. O/T, p. 196, supp. n. 51; Arai, p. 464. For Tomonori, see Sec. 21, n. 1. 2. Asatsuyu wa. ShokuGSIS 1234, anon. 3. Fuku \aze ni. ShokuKKS 1293, Narihira. Probably adapted from a verse in the Po-shih wen-chi, a collection of Po Chii-i's poetry well known in tenth-century Japan. Arai, p. 466; O/T, p. 196, supp. n. 52. 4. Yuku mizu ni. KKS 522, anon. See O/T, p. 196, supp. n. 53, for theories concerning the exact meaning of \azu \a\u. 51 1. Ue shi ueba. KKS 268, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 34575), Narihira.

52 1. Decorated rice dumplings (kazari chimakt) were a delicacy of Chinese origin, consumed annually on the Fifdi of the Fifth Month to celebrate the Sweet-Flag Festival (Tango no sechi). The exact nature of the 223

Notes to Pages 105-6 dish is no longer clearly understood, but the edible portion was probably glutinous rice or a similar substance molded into a cylindrical shape, wrapped in the leaves of reeds (chi), wild rice (ma\omo), or the like, and steamed. The decorations apparently consisted of colored streamers, possibly with the addition of seasonal flowers. For a drawing, see Nagata, p. 232. See also O/T, p. 196, supp. n. 54; Vos, II, 106, n. 1; Arai, PP- 47I~73The Sweet-Flag Festival was intended to ward off disease. It embraced a number of court rituals and popular customs, most of them involving the aromatic leaves and roots of the sweet-flag, to which the Chinese and Japanese, like the medieval Europeans, ascribed medicinal properties. Sweet-flag leaves were stuffed under the eaves of houses and palace buildings, worn as hair ornaments, added to bath water, and formally presented to the emperor by court physicians at a Sweet-Flag Banquet; the roots were hung inside buildings, used with rice wine in the preparation of a health drink, etc. The sweet-flag, or calamus (Acorus calamus var. angustatus, the Calamus aromaticus of medieval European druggists), was known in the Heian period as ayame or ayamegusa; it is now called shobu. Confusion with the modern ayame (Iris nertschins\ia) and hanashobu (Iris ensata; often called shobu), both of which are irises, has led to the common misnomer Iris Festival. The sweet-flag's leaves and roots resemble those of an iris but have a distinctive fragrance; the tiny, yellow-green flowers, massed together on blunt, tapering ears, are entirely unlike those of any iris. See Kitamura et al., Ill, Plate 48 facing p. 175. 2. Ayame \ari. The point of the poem hinges on the dual meaning of \aru, "to cut, reap" and "to hunt." Most commentators interpret the poem as evidence that chimaki were sometimes wrapped in sweet-flag leaves, assuming that the leaves are mentioned because they formed part of the original gift.

53 1. l\a de \a wa. ShokuGSS 816, Narihira. For a possible Chinese origin, see O/T, p. 197, supp. n. 55; and Vos, II, 107, n. 7.

54 1. Yukiyaranu is essentially identical with GSS 560, anon. "Since you care nothing for me, I cannot even see you in my dreams." Cf. Sec. 9, n. 3.

55 1. Omowazu wa. ShokuGSS 852, Narihira. 224

Notes to Pages 106-7 56 1. Wa ga sode wa. SCSS 1125, Narihira. Tsuyu ("dew") is an engo for \usa ("grass"). Dew is a metaphor for tears. A freer translation: How the dew Clings to my sleeve As night closes in— Just as though it were a hut Thatched with grass.

57 1. Koiwabinu. SCSS 722, anon. Possibly a revision of KKS 807. Arai, p. 487. After long uncertainty, ware\ara seems to have been fairly conclusively identified with the caprella, a small amphipod crustacean wim a tiny head and abdomen and a slender thorax about 1V2 inches long. It takes on the coloration of seaweed and other hosts, and like odier arthropods lives inside a shell that it sheds periodically. Because its name is identical in sound with ware \ara ("of oneself"), it appears in classical verse as a pivot word. In this poem it is introduced by a two-line preface. O/T, p. 197, supp. n. 56; Arai, pp. 486-87.

58 1. Nagaoka was the site of the imperial capital from 784, when Emperor Kammu left Nara, until 794, when for political and financial reasons a move was made to Kyoto (Heian). Recent archaeological investigations have shown that the Nagaoka capital was a sizable city, occupying the areas of the present Oharano Village, Nagaoka Township, Oyamazaki Township, Muko Township, Kuze Village (all in Otokuni District, Kyoto Prefecture) and Fushimi Ward (inside the city of Kyoto). NRD, XIV, 62. 2. "Imperial establishment" possibly refers to the residence of one or more of Emperor Kammu's many daughters, at least some of whom are thought to have remained in Nagaoka after their father's departure. O/T, p. 142, n. 8; Arai, pp. 491, 495. 3. Areniheri. KKS 984, anon.; KWR (ZKT 32165), Lady Ise. This poem, in KKS an expression of nostalgic emotion, here becomes a jesting challenge to the house's owner. "Neglected house" is not to be taken literally. O/T, p. 197, supp. n. 59. (For a different interpretation of the last line, see Arai, p. 492, and Vos, I, 215.) 4. Mugura oite. The man takes up the "ruined house" theme. There

225

Notes to Pages ioj-g

Notes to Pages 109-11

is considerable literary evidence to suggest that demons in human form were believed to frequent abandoned dwellings. O/T, pp. 197-98, supp. n. 61. 5. The question is a coy invitation: "Come on out and we'll all go back to the fields together." 6. Vchiwabite. The law provided that fallen ears were to be left in the fields for the poor. Arai, p. 494.

something of a gallant when he arrives in Kyushu and gets wet crossing this river." The point of the poem is in the plays on Somegawa and iro ni naru, a phrase meaning both "to become colored" and "to grow amorous." 3. Na ni shi owaba. GSS 1352, anon. Tawarejima ("Flirtation Island") is an isolated rock off the coast of Uto District, Kumamoto Prefecture, Kyushu, near the mouth of the Midori River. It appears in classical poetry chiefly in adaptations of this verse. DCJ, I, 1707. "To wear drenched garments" (nureginu o hj.ru) means to be falsely accused. The lady's poem says, in effect, "What's in a name? The 'River of Dyes' has nothing to do with your character; that was formed long ago. And obviously 'Flirtation Island' is not flirtatious. Do you remember the saying about drenched garments? One might say that this spraycovered island is wearing them, for from a distance it seems indeed to be clad in white silk. River or no river, your own clothes are quite dry; no one has falsely accused you of anything."

59 1. The Eastern Hills run north and south on the outskirts of Kyoto, east of the Kamo River. 2. Sumiwabinu. GSS 1084, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31860), Narihira. In both collections line 4 reads Tsumagi \orube\i, "There to cut firewood." GSS headnote: "When he was dissatisfied with the world." The attribution to Narihira has been accepted by many scholars. Arai, p. 503. 3. Wa ga ue ni. KKS 863, anon. In Chinese and Japanese legend, the boat that crosses the River of Heaven (Milky Way) is rowed by the Herdsman Star (Altair), who goes from the east bank to the west bank to visit his wife, the Weaver Maid (Vega), on the Seventh of every Seventh Month. The annual reunion was marked at the Heian court by the Tanabata Festival, vestiges of which still survive. This poem, one of a KKS group expressing happiness over good fortune, is believed to have been composed during a Tanabata season, presumably in response to a favor of some sort. Dew is a metaphor for beneficence. Arai, p. 503. 60 1. The Shinto shrine at Usa in Kyushu (Usa Township, Usa District, Oita Prefecture) played a role in some of the chief political events of the Nara period and was highly influential in later periods as well. From 833 on, an imperial messenger was sent there to report every new accession to the throne, and special messengers reported other events of major national importance. NRD, II, 180. 2. Satsuki matsu. KKS 139, anon.; KWR (ZKT 35098), Lady Ise. 61 1. Tsukushi was an old name for Kyushu. 2. Somegawa o. SIS 1234, Narihira. The Somegawa ("River of Dyes") flows through Tsukushi District, Fukuoka Prefecture, Kyushu (upper course of the Mikasa). "Not even the most soberly respectable person can avoid becoming

226

62 1. Inishie no. The phrase \p\eru \ara is obscure and may be corrupt. I have based the translation on a theory that explains it as "stripped branches," though \ara usually means "stalk" or "trunk." Other IM texts offer two alternatives that are themselves puzzling—wa\eru \a\o and \o\eru k.a\o, both of which perhaps mean something like "ravaged beauty." ("Where is your old allure, cherry blossoms? You have lost your looks.") O/T, p. 145, n. 19.

63 1. Momotose ni. Some dictionaries define tsukjimogami as "greyhaired." The translation follows O/T, p. 198, supp. n. 66. 2. Samushiro ni. KKS 689, anon.; KWR (ZKT 33836), anon. The IM version differs slighdy from the others. 3. This episode, the only one in which the IM author specifically names Narihira, furnishes valuable direct information about Narihira's reputation in the early Heian period. The behavior attributed to him has traditionally been regarded as a classic example of sensitivity to the feelings of others, one that perhaps influenced Murasaki Shikibu's descriptions of the consideration Prince Genji showed to unfortunate ladies such as the red-nosed princess. (See Waley, The Tale of Genji, I, 122.) The poem Momotose ni, which hardly seems complimentary, is explained by commentators as an expression of sympathy. Arai, p. 537; Kamata, pp. 290, 296. 227

Notes to Pages m-13 64 1. Fu\u \aze ni. SSZS 1214, Narihira.

65 1. In the Heian period, holders of any given court rank wore outer robes of a special color that was prohibited to persons of lower rank. From about the tenth century on, however, die term "forbidden color" (J(injil(t) was apparently used mainly in reference to robes of deep purple and deep red worn by members of the imperial family or great ministers of state. (Somewhat later, \inji\?s meaning was expanded to include particularly luxurious fabrics, notably a trousers material described as ayame ni \a no bun aru mono, which had an elaborate woven pattern of floral medallions on a checkerboard background.) The reference here is presumably to a rule that applied specifically to women: aqua green (ao) or red damask jackets, and trains decorated with stencilled designs, could be worn only by the highest-ranking members of die important Imperial Handmaids Office (naishi no tsu\asa), by daughters and granddaughters of ministers of state, and by others who had received special written imperial permission. O/T, p. 198, supp. n. 68; Kamata, p. 301; Aral, pp. 551-52; NRD, VI, 177. 2. The text implies that the lovers are Koshi and Narihira. 3. Omou ni wa. Attributed to Narihira in SKKS (1151). It seems to be a rather lackluster combination of lines from two KKS poems. KKS 503, anon.: Omou ni wa I Shinoburu \oto zo I Ma\eni\eru I Iro ni wa ideji to I Omoishi mono o. ("I had intended to conceal my passion, but caution has been vanquished by love.") KKS 615, Tomonori: Inochi ya wa I Nani zo wa tsuyu no I Ada mono o I Au ni shi \aeba I Oshi\arana\u ni. ("What is life? It is transient as dew. Let me but see you and I shall have no regrets.") 4. The Intendance Bureau (tonomozu\asa, tonomorizu\asa) was a housekeeping branch of the Imperial Household Ministry, with jurisdiction over the imperial carriages and litters, blinds, curtains, firewood, charcoal, the cleaning and lighting of palace apartments and gardens, etc. The gardeners and cleaners were at work early in the morning. 5. By tossing his shoes toward the interior of die area reserved for footgear, the youth hoped to make it seem that he had been in die building all night. The shoes of latecomers would be closest to tie door. 6. Koiseji to. KKS 501, anon. Mitarashigawa, "Stream of Purification"—literally "August HandWashing River"—occurs in Japanese literature both as a proper noun and as a term used of any stream near a Shinto shrine where worshipers

Notes to Pages 113-14 purified themselves by washing their hands and rinsing dieir mouths. I have capitalized it in the translation because of the likelihood that the author intended to suggest the well-known stream traversing the precincts of die two Kamo Shrines on the outskirts of the capital. Kubota, KKS, III, 318; Yokomichi and Omote, I, 146, n. 8; O/T, p. 148, n. 2. 7. No reliable source mentions Narihira's banishment. Arai, pp. 57376, has marshalled circumstantial evidence intended to demonstrate its historicity. 8. Ama no \aru. KKS 807, Naishi no Suke Fujiwara Chokushi (Naoiko); KWR (ZKT 32729), Naishi no Suke Kiyoiko. The first two lines function as a preface, with warekara as a pivot word. Their meaning—"the ware\ara dwelling in the seaweed that fisherfolk reap"—is unrelated to the sense of the poem. (For ware\ara, see Sec. 57.) '' 9. Sari tomo to. SCSS 868, anon. 10. Itazura ni. KKS 620, anon.; KWR (ZKT 33881), Hitomaro. 11. This paragraph, missing in some texts, appears to be an interpolation. The Mizunoo Emperor was Emperor Seiwa. The Empress from Somedono was Emperor Seiwa's mother; the Empress from the Fifth Ward, his grandmother (Emperor Montoku's mother). In Section 65 the text does not follow the usual version of Narihira's affair with Koshi, which supposedly took place during die reign of Emperor Montoku, Emperor Seiwa's predecessor, at a time when Koshi was at most 16 years old, Seiwa was 8 or younger, and Narihira was not a boy but a man of between 25 and 33.

66 1. Naniwa. The area comprising the present city of Osaka and its environs. Site of several ancient imperial palaces; an important harbor. 2. Naniwazu o. KWR (ZKT 32662), Narihira; GSS 1245, Narihira, with the headnote "Written when he had gone to live in Settsu Province in a time of distress." The attribution to Narihira is widely accepted. Arai (p. 583) takes die GSS headnote as evidence that Narihira was exiled to Settsu. Mitsu is a pivot word meaning both "harbor" and "see"; umi means both "sea" and "weariness," "trouble." Watching the toiling boatmen, the poet sees them as symbolic of suffering humanity.

67 1. The Second Month would correspond approximately to the cherry blossom season (March or April in the solar calendar).

229

228 /

Notes to Pages 114-16 1. Mt. Ikoma. See Sec. 23, n. 5. 3. Kino \yo. 'In bloom" means snow-covered.

68 1. Sumiyoshi District in Settsu Province occupied the area of the present Sumiyoshi Ward in Osaka. Sumiyoshi (Suminoe), on the shore of Naniwa Bay (now Osaka Bay), was the site of an important shrine whose god was a patron of seafarers— and, from the Heian period on, of poets. The beach in the vicinity of the shrine, once famous for its beautiful pines, has been destroyed by reclamation work, and the ancient shrine precincts have been converted into a public park surrounded by city streets. 2. Kari na\ite. Sumiyoshi is a pivot word, functioning both as a place name and in its literal meaning, "a pleasant place to live."

69 1. Records of the early Heian period occasionally report the dispatch of parties of half a dozen courtiers, equipped with dogs and hawks, to hunt birds for the palace table in provinces near the capital. The leader of such a group, usually a junior officer of Fifth Rank, was called the Imperial Huntsman (kari no tsu\ai). O/T, p. 150, n. 5; Arai, p. 598. 2. The Ise Virgin was the chief priestess of the Inner Shrine at the great Ise Shrine, dedicated to Amaterasu, the ancestor of the imperial family. At the beginning of each new reign, a Virgin was chosen from among unmarried daughters of emperors and imperial princes. By mentioning the Virgin's mother, the text hints that the Huntsman was Narihira and the Virgin Princess Tenshi (Note 3 below). The princess's mother was a sister of Ki no Aritsune, Narihira's father-in-law. 3. Kimi ya \oshi. KKS 645, anon.; KWR (ZKT 32888), Ise Virgin. KKS headnote: "When Narihira went to Ise Province, he paid a most secret visit to the Virgin. The next morning, as he was thinking of her longingly (he could not very well send her a message), someone brought him this." It was traditionally assumed, on the basis of this headnote.and IM, that Narihira actually seduced one of the Ise Virgins, Princess Tenshi (Yasuko, d. 913), who held office from 859 to 876, during Emperor Seiwa's reign. There is no evidence that this is more than a romantic myth. See p. 49. The poem is typical of the age in its elegant confusion. For a brief analysis, see B/M, p. 160. 4. Kakikurasu. KKS 646, "Reply"; KWR (ZKT 32889), "Reply." In the 230

Notes to Pages nj-18 two anthologies, and also in some IM texts, the last line, corresponding to line 3 of the translation, reads Yohito sadameyo ("Someone else must decide," i.e., "Like you, I find it impossible to reach a conclusion"). For an analysis of the poem in the context of the classical tradition, see B/M, pp. 217, 474. Some scholars contend that the headnote to KKS 645 is an interpolation, and that here, as elsewhere, an IM author has invented a context for a pair of verses from the anthology. Arai, p. 612. 5. Kachibito no. KWR (ZKT 33775), anon. There is a pun on e ni shi ("creek" plus two particles) and enishi ("affinity," "relationship") and another on the o of Osaka, homophonous with au, "to meet." Osaka Barrier, immortalized in innumerable literary references, was near the capital, on the road taken by travelers to Ise (south of the present city of Otsu in Shiga Prefecture [Omi Province]). 6. This sentence may be an interpolation. O/T, p. 152, n. 6. For Prince Koretaka, see pp. 44-45. 70 1. Oyodo Crossing (Oyodo no Watari) was probably the Ise terminal of a ferry from Owari Province, though some commentators take watari to mean simply "vicinity" {atari). Oyodo, now a part of the city of Ise, was originally a hamlet on Ise Bay that took its name from a nearby shrine. The Ise Virgin's residence was not far off, and the seashore, known as Oyodo Bay, was the place where she purified herself. The reader is no doubt intended to assume that the Imperial Huntsman is spending the night at Oyodo as he journeys back toward the capital from Owari (see the preceding section), and that he recognizes the girl of the Kimi ya \oshi episode among a group of young attendants whom the Virgin has sent to convey conventional greetings. O/T, p. 152, notes 10 and n; Arai, pp. 619-20. 2. Mirume \aru. SKKS 1080, Narihira. Possibly an adaptation of a poem by Ono no Takamura (802-52). Arai, p. 621. The poem turns on the identity in sound between mirume, a kind of seaweed (Sec. 25, n. 2), and tniru me, "seeing eyes." Its message: "Tell me how I can meet the Virgin." O/T, p. 152, n. 12.

71 1. See Sec. 69, notes 2 and 3. 2. Chihayaburu. ShokuSZS 1400, anon. The first three lines appear in MYS (2663, anon.) and, with slight variations, in SIS (924, Hitomaro) and KWR (ZKT 31941, anon.). Chihayaburu, "mighty," is an ancient pillow word for "god." 231

Notes to Pages 118-20

Notes to Pages 120-21

At Shinto shrines a fence encloses the sacred area in which the god dwells—a place to be avoided by mortals. 3. Koishiku wa. ShokuSZS 1401, "Narihira's reply."

has a second level of meaning which is not altogether clear. One possible interpretation: If no harm befalls The seaweed that grows Between the rocks, Perchance a shellfish will lodge there As the tides ebb and flow.

72 1. Oyodo no. SKKS 1432, anon. Possibly based on KKS 626, a similar poem by Narihira's grandson, Motokata (888-953). Arai, p. 628. For Oyodo, see Sec. 70, n. 1. The lady is the pine tree; die man the waves. A pun on matsu ("pine tree," "wait") gives the second line an added meaning; "I find it hard to wait; I long to meet you." Vramite means both "feeling resentment" and "seeing the beach."

73 1. Me ni wa mite. The first four lines are identical with MYS 632 by Prince Yuhara; KWR (ZKT 35131), anon.; and SCSS 955, anon. According to Chinese legend, there is an enormous cinnamon tree on the moon, magically resistant to the eternal onslaughts of a man with an axe. O/T, p. 199, supp. n. 70; Vos, II, 124, n. 4.

74 1. Iwane jumi. Probably a variant of MYS 2422, anon. See also SIS 969, anon. O/T, p. 199, supp. n. 71.

75 1. Oyodo no. The poem is a polite dismissal. "We have seen each other a few times and that is quite enough to satisfy me. I don't think it is necessary to become better acquainted." The first two lines, omitted in the translation, are "The seaweed that is said to grow / At the beach of Oyodo." They constitute a preface for miru, which again functions as both "see" and "seaweed" (cf. Sections 25, 70). For Oyodo, see Sec. 70. 2. Sode nurete. SCSS 651, Narihira. The man repeats the imagery of the lady's poem in his reply, composing a three-line preface for miru: " [The seaweed] from the ocean / Reaped and dried / By sleeve-drenched fisherfolk." 3. lwama yori. SCSS 652, anon. The poem has probably been corrupted in transmission. A certain amount of forcing is necessary to make sense of it unless one adopts the version that appears in some other IM texts, where line 3 becomes Tsune naraba. Arai, pp. 632, 636, and 639; O/T, p. 199, supp. n. 73. A preface and plays on words continue the marine imagery. The poem 232

Puns: (1) mirume, "seaweed" and "seeing eye"; (2) shio hi shio michi, "the ebb and flow of the tide" and "in any case"; (3) \ai, "shellfish" and "result." 4. Namida ni zo. ShokuGSS 699, Narihira.

76 1. Fujiwara Koshi. 2. The Fujiwara tutelary god, Amenokoyane no Mikoto, said in the earliest chronicles to have descended from heaven with Ninigi no Mikoto, an ancestor of the imperial family, and to have assisted in establishing the Japanese state. His main shrine was at Kasuga in Nara. The reference here is to the newer shrine at the foot of Mt. Oshio (640 m.) in Oharano (now Oharano Village, Otokuni District, Kyoto Prefecture), established primarily for the convenience of Fujiwara ladies after the court's removal from Nara to Nagaoka. It was traditional for imperial consorts of Fujiwara birth to make at least one pilgrimage to Oharano. The KKS headnote to the poem in this section speaks of a pilgrimage to the shrine undertaken by Koshi, but Sandai jitsuroku contains no record of such a visit, which presumably would have occurred between 869, when the lady's son was named crown prince, and 876, when he ascended the throne. For a discussion of efforts to pin the IM episode to a historical event, see Arai, pp. 645-46. 3. Narihira became an Acting Middle Captain in the Imperial Guards in 875 at the age of 50. SJ, p. 357; Arai, p. 647; O/T, p. 154, n. n; Vos, II, 126, n. 6. 4. Ohara ya. KKS 871, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31793), Narihira. KKS headnote: "Composed when the Empress from the Second Ward, then the Mother of the Crown Prince, made a pilgrimage to Oharano." The poem might be paraphrased as follows: "On this auspicious occasion, when a daughter of the Fujiwara visits Oharano Shrine as an imperial consort and the mother of an emperor-designate, the god will surely be reminded of the days when he too served the throne." The IM context, through the adroit insertion of fictitious detail, implies a second level of meaning—"Do you remember the days of our youth when we were in love?" 233

Notes to Pages 121-22

Notes to Pages 122-23

5. Some commentators take the man to be the subject, in which case the sentence would mean "Perhaps he was grieving inwardly—but then again, who can tell?"

being reborn. During that period, and especially on the forty-ninth day, when his case is judged, the prayers and good works of others can improve his chances of becoming a buddha. 3. See Sec. 77, n. 3. 4. See Sec. 77, n. 4. 5. Yamashina was in Yamashiro Province close to the capital; now in Higashiyama-ku, Kyoto. 6. Usually identified as Prince Saneyasu (831-72), a son of Emperor Nimmyo who lived at Yamashina after taking religious vows in the Fifth Month of 859—somewhat later than Takakiko's Forty-ninth Day. Scholars considering it necessary to deal with the discrepancy have suggested as an alternative an uncle of Narihira, Prince Takaoka, who became a monk well before the lady's death, and who may have lived in the Yamashina area before he went off to China (in 862) and ultimately to Laos, where he apparently died when well along in his eighties. O/T, p. 156, n. 3; Vos, II, 128, n. 11; Arai, p. 664. 7. Emperor Seiwa went to view the cherry blossoms at the Third Ward residence of Tsuneyuki's father, Yoshisuke, in the spring of 866 (several years after Takakiko's death). Such a mark of favor was a source of great prestige and involved elaborate preparations on the part of the host. On that occasion the entertainment included an archery contest, music, dances, the composition of Chinese poems, and a banquet. SJ, p. 179. 8. A stretch of coast in the present township of Minabe, Hidaka District, Wakayama Prefecture. 9. The object was to make the moss look as though it had grown naturally in the shape of characters—a notion probably suggested by a famous couplet from Po Chii-i's Collected Worlds {Po-shih wen-chi):

77 1. The Tamura Emperor was Montoku (827-58, r. 850-58), so called from the location of his tomb at Tamura, in Kadono District, Yamashiro Province (now Sambi-cho, Uzumasa, Ukyo-ku, Kyoto). 2. Takakiko (d. 858). Eldest daughter of Fujiwara Yoshisuke (81367), who was a son of Fuyutsugu and the brother of Yoshifusa and of Montoku's mother Junshi. She and Montoku were thus first cousins. Montoku actually predeceased her by about three months. 3. Anjoji Temple. Situated near the capital, at Yamashina (now in Higashiyama-ku, Kyoto); founded in 848 under the sponsorship of Empress Junshi. 4. Fujiwara Tsuneyuki (d. 875). Heir of Yoshisuke and brother of Takakiko. He did not become Captain of the Right until 866, eight years after his sister's death. 5. Commander of the Right Horse Bureau. This was one of Narihira's offices, but he did not acquire it until 865. Narihira was 33 years old in 858. 6. Yama no mina. KWR (ZKT 33329), Narihira; ShokuGSS 1258, Narihira. Takakiko died on the Fourteenth of the Eleventh Month in 858. The services at the Anjoji were to mark the forty-ninth day after her death (see Sec. 78, n. 2), and so should have been performed on the Second of the First Month of 859, but the poet's fourth line ("This springtime parting," also translatable as "The departure of spring") seems to imply, whether with or without historical justification, that they were postponed until the end of spring. One IM text specifically states that the ceremonies took place on the last day of the Third Month, i.e. the last day of spring. In any case, the reference to spring is a reminder of the youth of the lady, who was probably in her twenties, at most, when she died. The poet's "elegant confusion" is inspired by a passage in the Nirvana Sutra which says that mountains split asunder when the Buddha entered Nirvana. O/T, p. 155, n. 35; Arai, pp. 653, 657; Vos, II, 128, n. 21. 78 1. See Sec. 77, n. 2. 2. According to Buddhist doctrine, an ordinary human being—someone who has been neither very good nor very bad—spends the first fortynine days after his death in an intermediate existence, preparatory to

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I burned autumn leaves in the woods to warm my wine; I scraped the moss from rocks to form the letters of poems. From a poem reminiscing about pleasant days at a mountain temple. Arai, p. 671; Kawaguchi and Shida, pp. 103, 265; Mizuno, pp. 294-97.

79 1. More literally, "someone in the family." As indicated in the passage following the poem (believed to be an interpolation), this has been interpreted as a reference to Narihira's niece, a minor consort of Emperor Seiwa, who bore the emperor's eighth son, Prince Sadakazu (875-916). O/T, p. 157, n. 26; Arai, p. 673. 2. Wa ga \ado ni. Anon.; sometimes attributed to an IM author. The poem means that the new prince's maternal relatives can now hope for preferential treatment. "Bamboo" or "bamboo grove" as a metaphor for

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Notes to Pages 123-24

Notes to Pages 124-25

"prince" is said to derive from a famous bamboo park owned by a son of Emperor Wen (r. 179-156 B.C.) of China. Arai, p. 673; O/T, p. 200, supp. n. 75; Vos, II, 131, n. 4. 3. Narihira became a Middle Captain in 875, the year of the prince's birth (SJ, p. 357). Commentators explain the gossip as "probably the result of Narihira's reputation." Kamata, p. 366. 4. Yukihira (818-93) had a much more successful career than Narihira, rising through a series of responsible positions to the high office of Middle Counselor (in 882) with Senior Third Rank (achieved in 884). He was also a poet of considerable stature; eleven of his poems appear in KKS and otiier imperial anthologies.

by filling it with salt water, regularly replenished from Naniwa, and to have assigned servants to tend "salt fires" on the shore (whether or not they actually made salt is unclear). The earliest literary reference to the garden is probably a poem by Tsurayuki (KKS 852), written during a visit to the house after Tom's death: Kimi masade With aching heart I gaze Keburi taenishi At Shiogama Bay, Shiogama no Its plumes of smoke extinguished Urasabishiku mo Now that the master Miewataru kana. Is no longer here.

80 1. Nurelsutsu zo. KKS 133, Narihira. Headnote: "Sent to someone with a spray of wisteria flowers plucked on a rainy day late in die Third Month." Spring began on the First of die First Month and ended on the last day of the Third Month. In KKS the poem is an expression of the elegant Heian sensibility: "I have not minded getting wet, because I wish very much for you to share my enjoyment of die fragile, ephemeral beauty that, like the spring —and indeed like man and his works—vanishes all too soon." The IM introduction changes the mood by using the phrase otoroetaru ie (either "a house [family] that has seen better days" or "a dilapidated dwelling") and the verb tatematsuru ("to do something for a superior"). The poem thus takes on new overtones and illustrates a somewhat different aspect of mono no aware: "At my humble house there is nothing of value except these flowers, which I have plucked for you, getting myself soaked in the process, in the hope that you may remember my plight and be moved to help me." Arai, pp. 676-78. 81 1. Minamoto Toru (822-95), a son of Emperor Saga, who was Minister of the Left from 872 until his death. Literary and historical works contain many references to his luxurious mansion, known as the Riverside Palace (Kawara no in), and, in particular, to the lake in his garden, which was designed to resemble Shiogama Bay, a renowned scenic spot in Michinoku Province in northeastern Japan (now the harbor for Shiogama City, a few miles northeast of Sendai in Miyagi Prefecture). Toru is said to have maintained ocean fish and crustaceans in the lake

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2. Shiogama ni. ShokuGSIS 967, Narihira. Attributed by some commentators to an IM author. Arai, p. 676. 82 1. Narihira's patron. See pp. 44-45. 2. Yamazaki was a famous old Yodo River port and overland communications center, situated on the main highway leading west from the capital, in the southernmost part of Otokuni District, Yamashiro (now Oyamazaki Village, Otokuni District, Kyoto Prefecture). Minase was an adjacent area in Shimanokami District, Settsu Province (now Hirose, a part of Shimamoto Township, Mishima District, Osaka Prefecture). The whole Yamazaki-Minase region was used as an imperial hunting ground, and several emperors and other members of the imperial family maintained villas there at one time or another. The exact location of Prince Koretaka's house is unknown. Arai, p. 693. 3. Katano was the name of an old district in the northernmost part of Kawachi Province (now incorporated into Kitakawachi District and Hirakata City, Osaka Prefecture). The portion of the district adjoining the Minase-Yamazaki area belonged to the hunting preserve, and in the early ninth century there apparently was a temporary shelter there for the convenience of imperial sportsmen. The Nagisa House, owned by Emperor Montoku and later by Prince Koretaka, was probably built for a similar purpose. According to tradition, the present Kannondo Temple at Nagisa, Hirakata City, stands on the house's site. Arai, p. 695; O/T, p. 200, supp. n. 77; Saeki, p. 114. 4. Yo no na\a ni. KKS 53, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 35056), Narihira. KKS headnote: "On seeing the cherry trees at the Nagisa House." For a discussion of the poem, see pp. 50-51. 5. Chireba hpso appears to be a revision of KKS 71, anon. (Arai, p. 705)-

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Notes to Pages 125-27 Nokori naku Chiru zo medetaki Sakurabana Arite yo no naka Hate no ukereba.

It is precisely because Cherry blossoms scatter swiftly That we find them appealing, For things that linger overlong in this world End by becoming distasteful.

6. Amanogawa ("River of Heaven") was another name for the area known as Kin'ya ("Forbidden Plain"), now a part of Hirakata City in Osaka Prefecture. A river by the same name, a tributary of the Yodo, flowed nearby. 7. Kari\urashi. KKS 418, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 32057), anon. For the Weaver Maid, see Sec. 59, n. 3. 8. The prince's uncle and Narihira's father-in-law. See Sec. 16, n. 1. 9. Hitotose ni. KKS 419, Ki no Aritsune; KWR (32058), anon. 10. A\anaku ni. KKS 884, Narihira. The moon represents the prince. See pp. 1 off. 11. Oshinabete. GSS 1250, Kanzuke Mineo (fl. first half of ninth c ) . This section illustrates most of the principal techniques employed by the IM author (s). An initial pair of poems is produced by judicious tinkering; a second pair is taken as a unit from KKS; a third pair is created by a skillful matching of two verses from different sources; and a partly or wholly fictitious context is provided for overall unity. Section 82 is among the most interesting and successful of all IM episodes. It contains three excellent poems by Narihira, it brings Heian court society to life with vivid pictorial detail, and its prose has a vigor and elegance that contrast sharply with the colorless language of the headnotes to KKS 418 and 419.

83 1. Commander of the Right Horse Bureau. See Sec. 77, n. 5. Narihira was 47 years old when the prince became a monk (in 872). 2. Minase. See Sec. 82, n. 2. 3. Ma\ura tote. KWR (ZKT 34088), anon.; SCSS 538, Narihira. "I don't want to spend another night away from home. Furthermore, the night will be half gone unless I leave soon; these spring nights do not last long." "Grass pillow" {\usamakurd) was a metaphor for journey, derived from the traveler's custom of gathering grasses on which to sleep. The poet uses the figure because he is just returning from a trip. 4. Ono was an old name for the area more recently occupied by Ohara and Yase villages (in the former Otagi District, Yamashiro), which is now incorporated in Sakyo-ku, Kyoto City. Prince Koretaka's grave is at Ohara Ueno-cho, Saky6-ku, and his house is said to have been close by.

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Notes to Pages 727-29 The proximity of Ono to Mt. Hiei exposed it to chilling winds and made it cold and snowy in winter. 5. For Mt. Hiei, see Sec. 9, n. 6. 6. The New Year was a season of feverish activity, impressive ceremonies, and gay festivities in the capital—above all, a time for formally paying respects to superiors and patrons. But the prince, his once brilliant prospects gone, is neglected and lonely. 7. Wasurete wa. KKS 970, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31592), anon. The second part of this well-known section has been influential in shaping Narihira's image as a man of courage and integrity, not merely a gifted but rather frivolous poet. Some Japanese critics also find here an illustration of what they regard as the peculiar excellence of early classical literature—rich emotional intensity and overtones of feeling expressed with economy of language, through the use of evocative detail. It is going too far to claim, as Arai does (p. 719), that nothing in The Tale of Genji or any other Heian work equals the deep pathos and inexhaustible overtones of this passage, but the author has provided Narihira's poem with a context that matches its tone admirably. 84 1. Narihira's mother was Princess Ito (d. 861), a daughter of Emperor Kammu (r. 781-806). 2. Nagaoka. See Sec. 58, n. 1. 3. According to one tradition, Yukihira was also Princess Ito's son. Some commentators therefore interpret hitotsu \p ("only son") as "favorite son." O/T, p. 161, n. 37; Arai, p. 735. 4. Oinureba. KKS 900, Princess Ito, with a headnote resembling the IM introduction. 5. Yo no naka ni. KKS 901, Narihira, "Reply." The KKS version differs slightly.

85 1. This section, following upon Sections 83 and 84, implicitly identifies the man and his patron as Narihira and Prince Koretaka. (Note that in the last sentence the monk is actually called "the prince.") Since Narihira was 19 when the prince was born, early commentators felt obliged to explain away the phrase "since his childhood" by theorizing that the prince's childhood was meant; but Arai is surely on the right track when he maintains, following Kamo Mabuchi and other Tokugawa scholars, that much of the interest of he monogatari was considered to derive precisely from its combination of fact and fiction. Arai, pp. 738, 742.

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Notes to Pages 130-33

Notes to Pages 129-30 2. Omoedomo. KWR (ZKT 31600), anon. Possibly based on materials drawn from KKS 373 and 977. Arai, p. 743. "I should like to place myself at your disposal permanently, but I cannot be in two places at once, and duty requires me to stay in the capital. Happily, the snow now compels me to do what I should most like to do, i.e. stay here." Another possible interpretation (O/T, p. 162, n. 14): "Although I never forget you, I cannot be in two places at once, and thus my heart, filled with thoughts of you, has become very like the ground outside your house covered widi snowdrifts by these incessantly falling flakes." 3. Textiles and rice were the main media of exchange in the Heian period, and for obvious reasons cloth was preferred to grain for casual gift-giving. A garment could be sold, worn, given to a relative, or, if the donor were sufficiently exalted, kept as a family treasure.

86 i. Ima made ni. KWR (ZKT 33763), anon.; SKKS 1365, anon.

87 1. Mubara (Ubara) District occupied a narrow strip of land between the mountains and the sea in what is now the metropolitan Kobe area. Ashiya has become Ashiya City, adjoining Kobe. It is not known whether or not Narihira owned land at Ashiya, but legend connects his father with the area. Arai, p. 754. 2. Ashinoya no. SKKS 1588, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 34026), anon. Except for the place name Ashinoya-no-nada, the poem is almost identical with MYS 278. Ashinoya is a variant form of Ashiya, found chiefly in poetry. Here the word is used both as a place name and in its literal meaning, "reed-thatched huts." 3. The reader is intended to assume that the man is also an Assistant Commander. Narihira became an Acting Assistant Commander in the Military Guards of the Left in 863. 4. Yukihira (Sec. 79, n. 4) was appointed Commander of the Military Guards of the Left in 864. Narihira was transferred to the post of Lesser Captain in the Imperial Guards at the same time, and thus was in fact not an Assistant Commander when Yukihira was a Commander. O/T, p. 163, n. 31. 5. Nunobiki Falls. On the upper course of the Ikuta River in what is now the mountainous eastern sector of Kobe City (Fukiai-ku, Nunobikicho). 6. Warode, a round cushion about two inches thick and two feet in diameter, made of straw, rushes, or sedge plaited in a spiral pattern. 240

1

7. Wa ga yo o ba. SKKS 1649, Yukihira, with a headnote, "On going to see Nunobiki Falls." The poem has been attributed to an IM author. Arai, pp. 265, 267. Pivot words: kai ("efficacy" [kai no nami, "in vain"] and "gorge, ravine" [not in the translation]); namida {nami is a negative, namida means "tears"). 8. Nukimidaru. KKS 923, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 32567), anon. KKS headnote: "Composed when a group of people were reciting poems below Nunobiki Falls." "Narrow-sleeved" implies "humble," "unfortunate" (because people of low rank wore modest attire). 9. Mochiyoshi. Unknown. 10. Haruru yo no. SKKS 1589, Narihira. It has been attributed to an IM author. Arai, pp. 763, 768. 11. Watatsumi no. KWR (ZKT 33171), anon. 'The sea god caused last night's storm because he wished to give you something he values highly." A graceful compliment, appropriately concluding one of IM's most elegant episodes.

88 1. 0\ata wa. KKS 879, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31217), anon. "On this autumn night, emotion overcomes reason; against my better judgment, I delight in the full moon's beauty." This is one of Narihira's best-known poems. For another translation and an analysis of the verse in the context of the Heian poetic tradition, see B/M, pp. 161-62.

89 1. Hito shirezu. SZKKS 1157, Narihira. " . . . people would blame my death on the curse of some god to whom, it would be thought, I had given offense."

91 1. The reader is expected to infer that unrequited love is the cause of the man's low spirits. O/T, p. 166, n. 1. 2. Oshimedomo. GSS 141, anon. In the GSS context the poem is simply a lament for the passing of spring; the IM introduction makes it a love poem: "I had prayed that my suffering might end soon, but already it is the last day of spring—a spring far different from the one I had hoped for." Arai, p. 777.

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Notes to Pages 133-37 92 1. Ashibe \ogu. GYS 1272, Narihira. Perhaps a revision of KKS 732. Arai, p. 779.

93 1. Onaona. KWR (ZKT 33960), anon.

94 1. A\i no yo wa. KWR (ZKT 33721), anon. "Autumn nights" represents the new husband, "spring days" the old. In classical Japanese literature, fog is associated with autumn and mist with spring. 2. Chip no dki. "Maple leaves" represents the new husband, "cherry blossoms" the old. The lady means that no man can be trusted.

95 1. Hi\oboshi ni. "The Herdsman Star is more fortunate than I. He can at least cross the barrier once a year." For the legend of the Herdsman Star and the Weaver Maid, see Sec. 59, n. 3.

96 1. A\i \a\ete. SCSS 736, anon.

Notes to Pages 137-38 98 1. The Chancellor traditionally has been identified as Fujiwara Yoshifusa (Arai, p. 822). This office, the highest in the court bureaucracy, had remained vacant from 770 until Yoshifusa's appointment in 857. Following Yoshifusa's death in 872, there was another lapse until 880, when Mototsune was appointed. Mototsune held the post until 891, after which it was again unfilled until 936. 2. Wa ga tanomu. KKS 866, anon.; KWR (ZKT 33984), anon. First line: Kagiri nakt. The poem in the KKS /KWR version is a birthday wish for longevity. In the IM context, it is possible to see a veiled reference to the pheasant (Jktji) in line 4 (TOKI SHI TOO wa\anu). This section figures in a famous passage in the fourteenth-century miscellany Tsurezuregusa (Essays in Idleness), where the author discusses the proper method of attaching a pheasant to a branch of plum blossoms. Nishio, pp. 143-44, Sec. 66. Translated in Sansom, "The Tsuredzure Gusa of Yoshida no Kaneyoshi," pp. 48-49.

99 1. Mizu mo arazu. KKS 476, Narihira, with a headnote closely resembling the IM introduction. "Tell me who you are." 2. Shiru shiranu. KKS 477, anon., "Reply"; KWR (ZKT 33387), anon. "Why worry about my name? If you are really in love, you will find a way of meeting me."

97

100

1. The Minister of State from Horikawa was Fujiwara Mototsune (836-91), son of Nagara; adopted by Yoshifusa, whom he succeeded as head of the Fujiwara family and principal figure at court. His main residence was in the Nijo Horikawa section of the capital. His fortieth birthday was celebrated in the spring of 875, while he was Minister of the Right. (For Heian birthday celebrations, see Sec. 29, n. 1. Mototsune was born in a Year of the Dragon.) 2. Thought to have been a secondary residence maintained in the capital by Mototsune. O/T, p. 169, n. 33; Arai, p. 814; Saeki, p. 170. 3. Narihira had become a Middle Captain in the First Month of that year (875). He was 50. 4. Sakurabana. KKS 349, Narihira. Headnote: "Composed on the occasion of a fortieth birthday celebration for the Minister of State from Horikawa, held at the Ninth Ward House."

1. The Koroden and the Seiryoden were two buildings in the residential section of the imperial palace compound. The Seiryoden was the emperor's habitual residence; the Koroden, adjoining it on the west, opposite Immeimon Gate, was used by junior consorts and other ladies. 2. "Forgetting-grass." The literal meaning of wasuregusa, an old name for the \anso, or day lily. See Sec. 21, n. 3. 3. "Herb of remembrance." The literal meaning of shinobugusa (also shinobu). Shinobu as a botanical term can mean either (1) Davallia bullata, a kind of creeping, moss-like fern, sometimes said to have been used in the dyeing process called shinobuzuri (Sec. 1, n. 2), or (2) Poly podium lineare, the plant now called nohishinobu. In classical poetry the word usually means no\ishinobu, a common evergreen fern found growing on trees and the eaves of buildings, and in other shady places. The

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Notes to Pages 138-39

Notes to Page 140

no\ishinobu has spear-like leaves resembling those of the day lily, and the two plants apparently were sometimes confused. Arai, p. 838. In the present episode, the lady pretends to be asking for help in identifying the plant, perhaps to settle an argument inside, but her question is a discreet accusation: "You write as though you were still in love, but you never come any more." 4. Wasuregusa. ShokuKKS 1270, Narihira. "You have mistaken my feelings. I hope very much to be allowed to visit you again."

to the Kamo River on the west. Many aristocrats from the capital owned villas there, and the name appears in numerous classical poems, often in conjunction with references to quail and/or the autumn moon. The cremated remains of several later sovereigns and other members of the imperial family were deposited at Fukakusa, including, according to legend, those of Prince Abo, Narihira's father. See also Sec. 123, n. 2. 2. Nenuru yo no. KKS 644, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 32882), Narihira. Since this has always been regarded as one of Narihira's finest poems, it is not clear why the text makes a point of criticizing it. Some medieval scholars concluded that Narihira, the presumed author of IM, was simply being modest. Other theories: (1) the comment, and the episode as a whole, represent an attempt to pique the reader's interest by presenting this well-known verse as an inept effort by a man utterly unlike Narihira; (2) the comment represents a moral judgment, either serious or facetious. Arai, p. 857; O/T, p. 172, n. 9.

IOI

1. Brother of Narihira. See Sec. 79, n. 4; Sec. 87, n. 4. 2. Masachika was a courtier of middle rank who belonged to the Ceremonial house, one of the lesser branches of the Fujiwara. He had something of a reputation as a drinker, which was perhaps why he was selected as guest of honor. Arai, p. 847. Masachika actually became Middle Controller of the Left in 874, when Yukihira was no longer Commander of the Military Guards of the Left. The Chancellor, Yoshifusa, had died two years earlier. Arai, p. 848. 3. Sa\u hana no. GYS 1066, Narihira. The wording varies slightly. The fuji of Fujiwara means wisteria. 102 i. The first prerequisite for a poet was sensitivity in human relationships. 2. Somu\u tote. KWR (ZKT 32309), anon.; SGSIS 1302, Narihira. "Unlike the Taoist immortals of Chinese legend, who ride on clouds, you have not escaped the world altogether; nevertheless, you are enviably free of troublesome distractions now that you have become a holy recluse." (For the characteristics of immortals, see O/T, p. 202, supp. n. 92.) 3. The sentence is probably an interpolation. It refers to Princess Tenshi (Sec. 69, n. 3). Whether or not the princess became a nun is unknown. Arai, p. 853. 103 1. Emperor Nimmyo (r. 833-50), so called from the location of his tomb at Mt. Fukakusa, a hill near the ancient Inari Shrine on the KyotoFushimi highway in what was formerly Kii District, Yamashiro Province (now Fukakusa Kawara-cho, Fushimi-ku, Kyoto City). Fukakusa, or Fukakusa no sato ([Village of] Deep Grass), was an old name for the region at the southwest base of Inari Mountain, extending

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104

1. The regular festival of Kamo Shrine, held annually on the last Day of the Cock in the Fourth Month. During the Heian period, it was the great public event of the year. "Kamo Shrine" is actually two shrines about 1 km. apart, Upper Kamo and Lower Kamo, which in the Heian period were outside the capital near the Kamo River, the historic stream that flows southward through the eastern sector of the present city of Kyoto. (In the Heian period the river's course was just east of the capital. The Lower Shrine is at the present Shimokamo Miyakawa-cho in Sakyo-ku, Kyoto; the Upper Shrine is upstream at Kamikamo, Kita-ku.) Kamo Shrine, a Shinto institution of great antiquity, began to figure prominently in the social, religious, and political life of the ruling class soon after the establishment of the Heian capital, probably because it had become the tutelary shrine of the Hata, the richest and most powerful family in the Kyoto area during the eighth century, without whose financial assistance the move to Heian would have been impossible. In 813 a daughter of Emperor Saga became the first Kamo Virgin, with functions and status similar to those of the Ise Virgin—a unique honor for the shrine. Around the same time the traditional Kamo Festival was made an official event, in which the Virgin played a central role. From die beginning of the Fourth Month on, preparations for the festival involved almost every member of the nobility, whether officially or unofficially. The emperor and the Virgin performed purification rituals, dancers and musicians rehearsed, guards officers were assigned to special ceremonial watches, offerings were prepared, and costumes, carriages,

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Notes to Pages 140-41

and horse trappings of the utmost magnificence were assembled in every aristocratic household, eitlier for use in the official ceremonies or to impress fellow spectators. The most important preliminary event was the Virgin's purification, which took place on a Hare or Sheep day at a spot on the Kamo River selected by court diviners. On the day of the purification, after the emperor had personally inspected the fore riders' horses and the ox for the Virgin's carriage, a procession viewed by large crowds moved from the imperial palace to the Virgin's official residence at Murasakino (north of the capital about halfway between the Upper and Lower Shrines), and on to die river, where the ceremony took place. On the Day of the Cock, the festival day itself, the focal point of interest was not the religious ritual performed at the Lower Shrine and duplicated at die Upper, but rather the great procession of military and civil officials, court ladies, and attendants, some walking and others mounted on elaborately caparisoned horses or riding in ox-drawn carriages, and all brilliandy costumed in formal robes, with headgear, mounts, and carriages decorated with flowers and leaves. The principal figure in the procession as it left the palace was the Imperial Messenger, who was charged with reading the emperor's message to the gods from a vermilion scroll. Other leading participants were the officials responsible for the offerings to be presented and for the horses to be paraded for the gods' enjoyment. In the latter part of the Heian period there were also special emissaries from the empress and crown prince, each with his own attendants. The Virgin, borne in state on a litter from her Murasakino residence, joined the procession with her retinue as it progressed slowly along the great Ichijo Avenue. Crowds of townsmen and peasants filled the streets and overflowed onto housetops and trees. Gorgeously attired ladies, courtiers, and exalted personages sat in lacquered carriages or luxurious viewing stands, while their lackeys jostled against the commoners in an excited, unruly mass through which the Imperial Police, marching in the vanguard, cleared a passage. The houses along the way, the carriages and viewing stands, and the spectators were all gaily decked with garlands of real and artificial flowers, leaves of the \atsura tree (Cercidiphyllum japonicum, a relative of the Judas-tree), and especially the aoi leaves that gave the festival its popular name, "Aoi Festival." (Confusion between the jutaba-aoi [Asarum caulescens Maxim], whose leaves were used as decorations for the Kamo Festival, and the tachi-aoi, or hollyhock [Althea rosea], has led to the common mistranslation "Hollyhock Festival." Unlike the hollyhock, the jutaba-aoi is a creeping, ivylike plant with attractive pairs of heart-shaped leaves growing directly from rooted horizontal stems. During the flowering season in May, a tiny reddish-purple bell-shaped blossom appears between each pair of leaves. See Kitamura et al., II, 321 and Plate 68 facing p. 315.)

At each of the two shrines the Virgin ceremoniously paid her respects, the Imperial Messenger intoned the rescript praising the gods and requesting their continued favor, offerings and dances were presented, and horses were paraded and raced. The Virgin spent the night at the Upper Shrine, and on the following day there was another procession, the Return, less formal but equally colorful, which also attracted throngs of spectators. The Return culminated in a lavish banquet at the imperial palace, with rewards for the participants. The office of Kamo Virgin was discontinued early in the Kamakura period (1185-1333), but the Kamo Festival, centering around the Imperial Messenger, has continued witfi some lapses to the present day. For a detailed description of the festival in English, marred by some inaccuracies, see Ponsonby-Fane, pp. 219-26; for a reliable account by a modern Japanese scholar, see Ishimura, I, 225-30. 2. Yo o umi no demonstrates a kind of sophisticated preoccupation with language and technique often found in run-of-the-mill Heian poetry. In addition to one pivot word (hito) pertinent to the meaning of the poem as translated, it contains a series of puns that produce a rather vague and pointless second meaning: "Fisher girl toiling on the sea, let me eat some of the seaweed you harvest." (Hito means both the lady and the crowd. Line 3 of the translation might read, "Now that I see you watching the throng.") O/T, p. 172, n. 15; Arai, pp. 860-61. 3. The last sentence, missing in some texts, is believed to be an interpolation. See Sec. 102, n. 3.

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105 1. Shiratsuyu wa. SSZS 317, Otomo Yakamochi. Attribution doubtful. Arai, p. 864. "Die if you must. Even if you don't, you are not the sort of person to interest me." 106 1. The Tatsuta River is famous in classical literature as a place for viewing autumn leaves. The present Tatsuta River, known as the Ikoma in its upper reaches, is a minor stream about 16 km. long, flowing through Ikoma District in northwestern Nara Prefecture (Yamato Province) to join the Yamato River at Tatsuta Township. There are said to be 10,000 maples and other trees with highly colored foliage along its course. Scholars now believe, however, that the Tatsuta River celebrated by poets was a stretch of the Yamato River somewhat below the confluence of the two streams (in the vicinity of what is now Tachino in Sango Village, Ikoma District); it was familiar to pilgrims and other travelers because of the presence of Tatsuta Shrine and of Tatsuta Cross-

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Notes to Pages 141-42

Notes to Pages 142-44

ing, the major route across the mountains from Yamato to Kawachi Province. (See also Sec. 23, n. 4.) DCJ, IV, 3880; Arai, p. 865. 2. Chihayaburu. KKS 294, Narihira. One of two verses preceded by the notation: "Topic: A picture of autumn leaves floating on the Tatsuta River, painted on a screen owned by the Empress from the Second Ward. Composed while the empress was still known as the Mother of the Crown Prince."

causes tlie waves.) Presumably the text means not that the lady is repeating a verse of her own composition but that she is quoting the famous Tsurayuki. 2. Yoi goto ni. The cricket's chirp, the frog's croak, the warbler's song, the call of the wild goose—all were thought to express sadness, and all were rendered by the verb na\u ("weep, wail"), which, for wildlife as for humans, carried the connotation of shedding tears. The poet is saying that the tears shed by countless frogs night after night have raised the water level in the rice paddies. The poem can be interpreted as a sympathetic response ("Much against my will, I have been prevented from visiting you; I too have shed many tears") or a rather perfunctory one ("I have done nothing to make you cry; all this water is your own fault"). O/T, p. 203, supp. n. 97; Arai, p. 883.

107 1. Toshiyuki (d. 901 or 907), a member of the lesser branch of the Fujiwara called the Southern house, served at court under five emperors, beginning with Seiwa, and ultimately achieved the post of Commander of the Military Guards of die Right with Junior Fourth Upper Rank. His career was probably aided by his reputation as a calligrapher and poet. He was one of die important calligraphers of the Heian period and, in the early eleventi century, was named one of the Thirty-Six Poetic Geniuses. Twenty-eight of his poems are preserved in imperial anthologies, including 19 in KKS. 2. Tsurezure no. KKS 617, Toshiyuki; KWR (ZKT 31336), Toshiyuki. KKS headnote: "Sent to a lady serving in Narihira's house." Nagame is a pivot word meaning both "revery" and "long rain." Line 4 can mean eidier "My sleeves are completely soaked" or "Only my sleeves are wet." The reply takes it in the second sense. 3. Asami \oso. KKS 618, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 32931), Narihira. KKS headnote: "A reply composed on the lady's behalf." 4. Kazukazu ni. KKS 705, Narihira; KWR (ZKT 31352), Narihira. The KKS headnote resembles the IM introduction. This poem, typical of Narihira's terse, enigmatic style, has been variously interpreted. Some writers suggest that the girl has been practicing a kind of "he loves me, he loves me not" divination, i.e., "If it rains, it's a sign that he doesn't love me," or that ante ("rain") functions also as a metaphor for tears—"I fear that his love is insincere, and thus my tears fall faster than the raindrops." My translation accepts another interpretation: "I shall soon know whether or not you love me. If you do, you won't mind getting wet." Kubota, KKS II, 432-34; O/T, p. 203, supp. n. 96; Arai, p. 873; B/M, p. 161. 108 1. Kaze ju\eba. SKKS 1040, Ki no Tsurayuki. In the IM context, wind and waves become metaphors for the man's fickleness and the lady's tears. (Line 1 means literally "Because the wind blows," i.e. "Because you are constantly seeking new interests." The wind

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109 1. Hana yori mo. KKS 850, Ki no Mochiyuki; KWR (ZKT 33334), III

1. lnishie wa. SCSS 631, anon. "I had never met the dead person; yet I feel a sense of loss." ("I have never met you; yet I find myself in love.") 2. Shitahimo no. GSS 703, anon.; KWR (ZKT 34195), anon. The poem alludes to an old popular belief that when a lady's undersash came untied it was a sign that someone loved her. Cf. MYS 2808, which shows that itchy eyebrows and sneezes were also auspicious auguries: Mayone kaki As I approached, Hana hi himo toke Burning with impatient love, Materi ya mo Did you, perchance, waiting, Itsu ka mo mimu to Scratch your eyebrows or sneeze? Koikoshi ware o. Or did your under-sash come loose? 3. Koishi to wa. GSS 702, Ariwara Motokata (d. 953, grandson of Narihira); KWR (ZKT 34194), anon. In some IM texts the last two poems are missing; in others they constitute a separate section with a one-sentence introduction, "Once a man sent this to a cruel lady," and with their order reversed, as in GSS. It appears likely that the common texts are corrupt here. Arai, pp. 893-94. 112

I. Suma no ama no. KKS 708, anon.; KWR (ZKT 31666 and 32637),

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Notes to Pages 144-45

Notes to Page 14$

anon. Line i in K W R : he no ama no. "Gale" is a metaphor for another man; "smoke" symbolizes the lady. This is a famous poem about a famous place. Suma, now incorporated in Suma Ward in western Kobe, first became known to the Japanese aristocracy as a post station on the road leading west from the capital. Its picturesque white beaches and green pines, facing the island of Awaji across Akashi Strait, were admired by noble travelers and excursionists in the Heian period, and references to it are common in classical literature. A celebrated episode in The Tale of Genji, dealing with Prince Genji's banishment to Suma and his subsequent adventures there, was perhaps inspired by the actual temporary exile of Narihira's brother, Yukihira (for reasons unknown), which in the medieval period was also made the subject of one of the finest plays in the No repertoire, Matsu\aze (Pine Breeze).

in summer.) Emperor Koko's excursion in the winter of 886 took place in a violent snowstorm that lasted all day. T h e emperor left the palace in his litter around 4 A.M. with a large escort, reached the hunting grounds some three hours later, and remained until dusk, sipping wine and watching the hawks wheel and pounce among the whirling snowflakes. He dined at a neighboring villa owned by a Fujiwara noble (who received a promotion for his hospitality a few days later), and after distributing presents to members of his party he returned to the capital late at night, with snow frosting the horses' manes and clinging to the elegant costumes of the riders. SJ, p. 621. 3. In the capital area there were two small rivers named Serikawa, neither of which now exists. One, in the former Kadono District of Yamashiro Province (now incorporated in Ukyo-ku in the northwestern sector of Kyoto City), flowed through Saga to a confluence with the Oigawa River. The other traversed part of the old Kii District of Yamashiro (the portion now in Fushimi-ku, Kyoto) near the Seinan Shrine, i.e., in the vicinity of the famous Toba Palace built late in the Heian period. Various emperors are believed to have hunted on the plains near both rivers, and it is not always clear which is meant when the name Serikawa appears in a classical text. The one near the Seinan Shrine seems to have been the more favored by imperial hunting parties, who are frequently reported to have hunted at "Serikawa and Katano" (Katano was relatively close to this river [See Sec. 82, n. 3 ] ) , and perhaps for that reason, most IM commentators say that Emperor Koko hunted there, and not at Saga, in 886. For reasons discussed in note 4, the assumption seems questionable. 4. Okinasabi. GSS 1077, Ariwara Yukihira; K W R (ZKT 34153), Yukihira. A gaily figured hunting costume (suri\ariglnu) was prescribed attire for imperial falconers. Yukihira means that the dress is too flamboyant for a man of his age. He was 68 in 886; the emperor was 56. Some IM texts say that the poem was scribbled next to the picture of a crane on Yukihira's sleeve. ' T h e crane pursued by the hawk seems to be crying, *My life must end today.' I am afraid you find me most inappropriately clad, but for me, as for the crane, this is the end; from now on I shall no longer serve as an imperial falconer. I hope, therefore, that you will forgive my appearance." In GSS the poem appears in the following context, with another poem by Yukihira:

113 1. Naga\aranu. SCSS 953, anon. The poem can be interpreted either as a deserted husband's complaint or as self-criticism by a widower who finds himself forgetting his dead wife. O / T , p. 176, n. 6. 114 1. Emperor Koko (830-87; r. 884-87), so called from the era name in use during most of his brief reign (Ninna, 885-89). 2. Probably a hawking expedition undertaken by Emperor Koko in the Twelfth Month of 886. Hawking on the plains near the capital was a pastime enjoyed by many Heian emperors. Emperor Kammu is said to have hunted 123 times over a 20-year period, Emperor Saga hunted 73 times and wrote the first Japanese book on the art of falconry, and a number of sovereigns had favorite hawks whose names are still remembered. T h e imperial hunts were colorful, large-scale events joined by members of the central aristocracy, provincial officials, and attendants of various sorts. The chief role of most of the noble participants apparently was to escort the imperial litter and gallop across the fields on spirited horses. The actual hunting was done by five or six mounted falconers who managed the hawks (usually, as in Europe, the females of large species such as the peregrine falcon), and by another half dozen men on foot, who led dogs trained to retrieve the game. Falconry was primarily a winter sport, though some hunting was done in the fall. (The winter hunting, called "big hawking" \ota\agari\, was for wild ducks, wild geese, pheasants, cranes, and other large birds. At the autumn "little hawking" [\ota\agari\, quail, skylarks, and other small birds were taken. There were occasional hunts in the spring, none

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On the day when the Ninna Emperor went to the Serikawa River in accordance with a precedent set by Emperor Saga [commentators agree that this was the hunt of 886]: 251

Notes to Page 145 Saga no yama Miyuki taenishi Serikawa no Chiyo no furumichi Ato wa arikeri.

There are new traces in the snow Blanketing the ancient path Beside the Serikawa River In Saga's hills Where once an emperor passed.

Serving as a falconer on the same day, Yukihira wore a hunting costume on which this verse was inscribed next to a picture of a crane: Okinasabi...

Let none find fault...

On the day after the hunt, Yukihira formally asked to be relieved of his duties. The Serikawa near the Seinan Shrine is known to have been Emperor Saga's destination on some of his 73 hunting excursions, but Yukihira's first poem seems to show that Emperor Saga had also hunted at the Saga Serikawa, and that Saga was the scene of Emperor Koko's hunt in 886. (It should be noted that the plain in the vicinity of the Saga Serikawa was known as Serikawano [Serikawa Plain], and that it is to Serikawano that SJ, the official history, describes Emperor Koko as going. I have not found Serikawano as a name for the area around the Serikawa in Kii District.) NCD, IV, 3627; DCJ, I, 147; Kubota, SKKS, II, 149; SJ, p. 621; O/T, p. 176, n. 8; Arai, p. 900; Kamata, pp. 485-86.

"5 1. Okinoite Miyakojima (or Miyakoshima). Unknown. Possibly one place; possibly two. Some IM texts have Okinoi for Okinoite. O/T, p. 177, n. 21, and p. 204, supp. n. 100. 2. 0\i no ite. KKS 1104, Ono no Komachi. "Subject: Okinoi Miyakoshima." The two words which are the poem's topic are concealed in line 1 (OKI NO ITE, "searing with red-hot coals") and line 4 (MIYAKO SHIMA^, "capital and [distant, lonely] island-fringed shore"). Komachi's poem was probably addressed to someone about to leave Kyoto for the provinces: More bitter than the anguish Of flesh seared by fiery coals Is this parting— One to remain in the capital And one to visit lonely shores. In some IM texts the episode has a happy ending: "The man was so impressed that he stayed there." Arai, p. 908. 252

Notes to Pages 146-47 116 1. Namima yori. MYS 2753, anon.; KWR (ZKT 35156), anon.; SIS 856, anon. In all these collections, and in some IM texts, line 3 reads hamahisakj. (or hamahisagi), "the hisdki trees on the beach." Hisa\i is identified by some scholars with dkamegashira [Mallotus japonicus], one of a genus of tropical Asiatic and Australian trees found from central Honshu south. (Other theories: miscellaneous trees, brushwood, the Indian bean.) Hamabisashi ("beach eaves," translated "the eaves of a cottage by the shore") does not make much sense and is probably a corruption. The first three lines are a preface introducing hisashi\u. 117 1. Sumiyoshi. See Sec. 68, n. 1. 2. Ware mite mo. KKS 905, anon. The poet, in praising the ancient Pine of Sumiyoshi, pays homage to the god who inhabits the tree. 3. Mutsumashi to. SKKS 1857, anon. Shiranami ("not knowing") conceals shiranami ("white waves"), an associative word referring to the shrine's location on the shore of Naniwa Bay. The "sacred fence" at a Shinto shrine encloses the area in which the god dwells. 118 i. Tama\azura. KKS 709, anon.; KWR (ZKT 33484), anon. 119 1. Katami \oso. KKS 746, anon. 120

1. Omi naru. SIS 1219, anon. The poet refers to a legend concerning the annual spring festival of Tsukuma Shrine in Omi, at which every grown female parishioner was supposedly required to appear, on pain of divine displeasure, carrying as many pots on her head as she had had lovers or husbands—the purpose of the ceremony being to discourage remarriage. The parade and subsequent presentation to the shrine of cooking vessels seem in fact to have represented a survival of earlier rituals centering around food. A food deity was worshipped at the shrine, and in pre-Heian times offerings of agricultural implements and pots and kettles were regularly presented there. The shrine was also the religious protector of a local branch of the Palace Table Office that furnished salted lake fish for court use from the ninth century to the eleventh.

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Notes to Pages 147-48

Notes to Pages 149-51

Tsukuma Shrine still survives in Maibara Township, Sakata District, Shiga Prefecture. The "Pot Festival," as it is popularly known, is now dominated by small girls in Heian costumes who march beside the sacred palanquin wearing bowl-shaped cardboard hats. Arai, p. 929; O/T, p. 179, n. 18, and p. 204, supp. n. 103; NRD, XIII, 71.

One hesitates, however, to suggest the substitution of "Dense Herbaceous Vegetation.") 3. No to naraba. KKS 972, anon., "Reply." KWR (ZKT 32051), anon. Kari ni means "temporarily" and "for a hunt."

121

1. Umetsubo ("Plum Court"). A building northwest of the Seiryoden (Sec. 100, n. 1) in the imperial residential compound, used primarily by court ladies in the performance of their official duties. Its gardens were planted with red and white plum trees, hagi (bush clover) and yatnabu\i (Kerria japonica). 2. Uguisu no ... \isete \aesan. The poem refers to an old song (saibard) about warblers {uguisu, sometimes translated "nightingale") and their fondness for plum blossoms: Aoyagi o Kataito ni yorite Uguisu no Nuu cho kasa wa Mume no hanagasa.

Plum blossom hats! Those are the bonnets Warblers sew for themselves, Twisting green willows To make their thread.

O/T, p. 179, n. 20; KKS 1081. 122 i. Yamashiro no. KWR (ZKT 33979), anon.; SKKS 1367, anon. The first part of the poem—"I have scooped up the clear water of Tamamizu at Ide in Yamashiro; I have drunk it from my hands"—serves as a preface to musubi tanomishi, which means both "scooped up and drank from hands" and "made a compact and relied on it." O/T, p. 179, n. 24. Tamamizu ("Excellent Water") is the name of an area in Ide Township, Tsuzuki District, Kyoto Prefecture. 123

1. See Sec. 103, n. 1. 2. Toshi o hete. KKS 971, Narihira. The translation fails to convey the full meaning of Narihira's last two lines, which might be paraphrased as follows: "[My garden] is already badly overgrown (itodo jukfikusd). I wonder if it will finally turn into a wilderness {itodo ju\a\usa no to ya narinan)—if it will revert to being a part of Fukakusano, the Plain of Deep Grass." ("Deep Grass," the conventional translation for Fukakusa, is misleading, since \usa is a general term for all herbaceous plants.

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124 1. Omou \oto. SCSS 1126, Narihira. 125 1. Tsui ni yu\u. KKS 861, Narihira. One of the best known of all classical poems. See B/M, p. 203. 127 1. Ohara ya. The meaning of se\ai is unknown. See O/T, p. 182, n. 1. Ohara, a place frequently mentioned in classical poetry, is north of Yase in the present Sakyo-ku, Kyoto. See Sec. 83, n. 4. 128 1. Ko\oro o zo. KKS 685, Kiyowara Fukayabu (late 9th c.-early 10th c ) ; KWR (ZKT 33561), Fukayabu. Lines 4 and 5 in KKS, KWR, and one group of IM texts read Miru mono \ara ya I Koishi\arube\i. The poem as it appears in KKS might be paraphrased, "The human heart is strange. Why should I feel this longing for you when you are here beside me?" In the IM context it means that the man, though deeply in love with the woman he has been visiting, also finds himself attracted to a stranger. O/T, p. 182, n. 5; Saeki, p. 237; Kubota, KKS, II, 402. 129 1. Western Palace (Nishi-no-in, Saiin) was an area in the capital corresponding roughly to the present Saiin district of Ukyo-ku, Kyoto, so called from an alternative name used of the Junna Palace, a secondary residence built by Emperor Junna during the first half of the ninth century. Watanabe and Koichi, pp. 445-46, supp. n. 43. 2. Wa ga ie wa. The poem may mean that the lady lives in the Western Palace or some other imperial establishment inaccessible to ordinary people. 130 1. Nafazora ni. SKKS 1369, anon. Almost identical with the last poem in Sec. 21.

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Notes to Pages 152-54

Notes to Page 152

Since there is no village Untouched By the coming of spring, Why does one see flowers Blooming and not blooming?

131 1. lma wa tote. KKS 782, Ono no Komachi; GSS 450, anon. (The wording varies slightly.) The rich texture and subtle overtones of this brilliant poem by Komachi defeat translation, raise questions of interpretation, and force paraphrase and conjecture upon the commentator. Line 1. lma wa tote (translated "now that") can be taken either as a reference to the poet's condition, namely, she is about to become an old woman, or as the man's reaction to that condition—"It's time to break with her." Lines 2 and 3. Shigure no, "of die late autumn rains," functions as a preface for juri- (a pivot word meaning "growing old" and "falling," as rain); it is irrelevant to the main sense of lines 2 and 3, which is simply, "I am growing old." Furi- perhaps carries the implication that the author is shedding tears. Lines 4 and 5. In the first three lines Komachi has observed the convention that a poem sent to someone else expresses the author's feelings through reference to some aspect of nature immediately at hand. In her last two lines she extends the imagery to the recipient and his emotions: Koto no ha sae zo utsuroini\eru (literally, "even your words have changed," i.e. "the sentiments that inspired your vows have altered") relates the man's feelings to the natural world by plays on words. The ha of \oto no ha ("words") suggests the homophonous ha, "leaf," so that the lines might be paraphrased, "The leaves, faded by the rains of late autumn, are not the only things that have lost color. The color (iro, also "love") has even gone out of your vows." (Because utsurou can mean both "change" and "fade," some commentators interpret the last two lines differently: "Just as the late autumn rains bring fall color to the leaves, so my advancing years have changed the color of your affections.") O/T, p. 183, n. 16; Saeki, p. 256; Kubota, KKS, III, 501. 2. Ki no Sadafun. Unknown. The author of Hito o omou is listed in KKS as Ono no Sadaki, a contemporary of Komachi. 3. Hito o omou. KKS 783, Ono no Sadaki (fl. ca. 850), "Reply." Line 2: Ko\oro \o no ha ni. In the KKS version, line 2 of the translation becomes "But a leaf from a tree." "If I were as fickle as you think, perhaps I might turn to someone else, but you are wrong to doubt my love." 132 1. Haru no hi no. KKS 93, anon. First line: Haru no iro no. The KKS version:

256

The KKS poem shows the influence of fashionable Chinese poetry of the Six Dynasties period, both in vocabulary (haru no iro is a direct translation of ch'un-se, "spring scenery") and in the self-consciously analytical and clever manner in which the topic is approached. This is no lyric outburst springing from direct personal experience, but rather an exercise in philosophy. "Flowers are known to appear in spring. It is spring now. How does it happen, then, that some plants have failed to bloom?" In IM, hi ("sun") may have been substituted for iro in order to allude to a place in the Nara area—namely Kasuga, written with the characters for "spring" and "sun." The relevance of the poem to the IM context is not clear. Possibly the text means that the man, having earlier become annoyed with the lady, either because she had resisted his advances or because he suspected her of infidelity, is now saying to her, "All nature smiles in spring. Why must you alone be unkind?" O/T, p. 183, n. 21; Kubota, KKS, I, 230; Saeki, p. 121. 133 1. During the Heian period a girl came of age when a train was formally added to her costume. The usual age for the ceremony, called uimo ("first train") or mogi ("putting on the train"), was from 11 to 13. See Ishimura, I, 165. J

34

1. Wa ga yado ni. MYS 1448, Yakamochi; KWR (ZKT 34464), Yakamochi. J

35

1. Tsu\i shi areba. MYS 2665, anon.; KWR (ZKT 33586), anon. O/T, p. 184, n. 10.

136 1. Omoitsutsu. MYS 2931, anon. Thought to have been written by a woman (Takagi, III, 274). The attribution to Yukihira is clearly incorrect. "Black as leopard-flower berries" translates the stock epithet mubatama

257

Notes to Pages 154-56 no, derived from mubatama (also nubatama), the small, black, glossy fruit of the leopard flower or blackberry lily (Belamcanda chinensis [L.] D C ; Jap. hyogi). 2. Konu hito o. "You say that you are anxious to see me; yet you never come." 137 r. Yuzu\uyo. MYS 2664, anon. Line 2: A\ato\iyami no. Line 5: Na omoi\ane ni. The first two lines, omitted in the translation, constitute a preface for asa\age ("shadows cast by the morning s u n " ) : "Shadows cast by the sun on a morning that has dawned after a moonless night." In the MYS version, yuzu\uyo (a night on which the moon rises early in the evening and sets around midnight) is a pillow word for a\ato\iyami ("darkness toward dawn"). In the IM version the pillow word is retained but deprived of some of its force by the substitution of a\atsu\igata ("toward dawn") for a\ato\iyami. J

39

1. lza sa\ura. KKS 77, the monk Soku (fl. ca. 880); KWR (ZKT 35041), die monk Sosei (fl. late 9th c.-early 10th a ) . 2. Isasame ni. "Cherry blossoms" is a metaphor for "women." 140 1. Watercourse bamboo (\awata\e). Bamboo growing beside an artificial stream in the east garden of the Seiryoden, the imperial residence. 2. Sayo fu\ete. KKS 452, Prince Kagenori (fl. 1st half 10th a ) . "Topic: Kawata\e." T h e * awa of the topic is concealed in nakaba, "halfway" {wa and ba are written with the same sign and were originally identical in sound); ta\e appears as a homophone meaning "about, quite, just." 141 1. Tsukushi. An old name for Kyushu. 2. Miyakfi yori. Ogawa ("string-leather") and hashi ("tip") are associative words (engo); ogawa can also mean "small stream"; hashi, "bridge." 142 1. Omoitsutsu. KKS 552, Ono no Komachi; K W R (ZKT 32881), Komachi. See O/T, p. 187, n. 22; B/M, p. 274.

258

Notes to Pages 156-65 M3 1. Aki no yo mo. KKS 635, Ono no Komachi; KWR (ZKT 33571), Komachi. The wording differs slightly.

NOTES TO APPENDIX A 1. The poem expresses gratitude for the lady's past kindnesses, an appropriate gesture for the New Year season. "Spring" alludes to "Spring Palace," a name for the crown prince's residence. 2. Prince Koresada (d. 903) was a son of Emperor Koko. The poem is one of 90, all on the subject "Autumn," surviving from this contest. 3. There is a play on the Chinese characters for "wind" and "mountain," which together form the character for "storm." 4. The flowers are the white crests of the waves. 5. The word medo (also medohagi, a type of bush clover) is concealed in line 2. The poem also contains elaborate word plays that give the last two lines a hidden meaning: "I should like to hope for an official post that would rescue me from obscurity and enable me to rise in the world." 6. Sun is a metaphor for emperor. The Fukakusa Emperor, so called from the location of his grave, was Emperor Nimmyo, who died at the early age of 40. For Fukakusa, see Sec. 103, n. 1 and Sec. 123, n. 2. 7. Nishi-no-6dera, better known as Saiji. It stood near Rashomon Gate in the capital, opposite the Eastern Temple (Toji), which still survives in Shimokyo-ku, Kyoto. 8. T h e poem was written while Henjo held a clerical office at Kazan Temple (Kazanji, also called Gangyoji) on the outskirts of the capital (now in Higashiyama-ku, Kyoto). Shiga Temple (Shigadera, also called Siifukuji) was in Otsu, across the mountains from Kazan. 9. "Since I find ladies most agreeable, I have been unable to resist a flower with such an attractive name. But do not suppose that I am going to break my vow of celibacy; I have no intention of singling out a real lady in this manner." The "maiden flower" or ominaeshi {Patrinia scabiosaefolia), one of the famous "seven grasses of autumn," is a long-stemmed perennial that bears clusters of small yellow flowers. 10. Henjo's mother was a widow, thus line 1. n. Henjo was at one time abbot of Urin'in Temple in Murasakino, a subsidiary of Kazanji (n. 8 above). The poem implies that the author has been caught in a rain shower, which is making the leaves fall. 12. The subject, \utani, is concealed in line 2. The plant is now unknown.

250

Notes to Pages 165-86

Notes to Pages 186-92

13. Here and in the following poem, KKS 771, Henjo pretends to be a woman. 14. The word higurashi, "cicada," is concealed in omoi%urashi, "spending the day longing for someone." 15. The Gosechi dancers, young girls of good family, presented their performances in conjunction with the Thanksgiving Festival ceremonies in the Eleventh Month. 16. For maiden flowers, see n. 9 above. 17. According to a folk belief, this would make her dream about him. For the pillow word, see Sec. 136, n. 1. 18. See Sec. 25. 19. Translation from B/M, p. 188. 20. Since ura min, "wishing to see the shore," is homophonous with uramin, "feeling angry," the last two lines also mean "Why do you persist in saying that you are angry with me?" 21. See Sec. 131. 22. Translation from B/M, p. 205. 23. Puns on a\i, tanomi, and wa ga mi produce an alternative meaning: "How bitter it is that the man I trusted has tired of me; I shall, I fear, soon be utterly forgotten." 24. Translation from B/M, p. 222. 25. Translation from B/M, p. 206. 26. See Sec. 115.

fairly closely. See IB2 and IV below. For a detailed survey in English of Tokugawa and earlier IM studies, see Vos, I, 101-14. 5. Ikeda, Ise monogatari ni tsu\ite no \en\yu; Otsu. For details see Fukui, p. 56. See also Vos, I, 115-16. 6. See Fukui, pp. 62-108; O / T , pp. 97-99; Vos, I, 78-87. For this category of texts and others mentioned below, Fukui provides exhaustive, authoritative discussions that include descriptions and appraisals of the work of other scholars. O / T contains useful brief summaries. Vos's Vol. I contains generally reliable and fairly full English summaries based for the most part on Ikeda's research (and thus somewhat out of date). 7. Vos, I, 82; Fukui, pp. 65ff. 8. Ikeda, Ise monogatari ni tsukite no \en\yu, II, 337. 9. Fukui, pp. 108-29; O / T , pp. 96-97; Vos, I, 88-91. 10. Fukui, p. 120. 11. K6taigo-no-miya Echigo text and Koshikibu no Naishi text. T h e former appears to have resembled the 125-episode lines (Fukui, p. 170). For the latter, see below. 12. Fukui, p. 120. 13. Fukui, p. 124. 14. Ibid. 15. Ibid. 16. Ibid. 17. Fukui, pp. 129-42; O / T , p. 95; Vos, I, 91-92. 18. Fukui, p. 129. 19. Fukui, pp. i34ff. 20. For this reason, the short texts are usually called Suzaku Palace Storehouse (Suzakuin Nurigome) texts. "Suzaku Palace Storehouse" has also traditionally been an alternative designation for any IM version beginning with the episode about a young man recently come of age (Sec. 1 in the present translation). Such versions are otherwise known as "Putting on the Cap of Manhood" (ui\oburi) texts, as opposed to the second major category described by Kensho and others, the "Imperial Huntsman" (\ari no tsukai) texts, which begin with Sec. 6g. 21. Fukui, pp. 150-53; O / T , p. 99; Vos, I, 87-88. 22. Vos, I, 87. 23. Yotsutsuji Yoshinari (1329-1402), Ka\aisho, a commentary on The Tale of Genji.

NOTES TO APPENDIX B 1. See the Introduction, notes 57 and 60. 2. Late in the Kamakura period, scholars began to mention seven families of IM texts associated with the names of prominent court figures, usually identified as follows (sometimes a slightly different list was given): Narihira holograph, Prince Tomohira's text, Abe Moroyasu's text, Kamo Naishi's text, the nun K6 Nii's text, the Ise Chusho text, Nagato's "Imperial Huntsman" text. It is uncertain whether texts by those names actually existed, and if so, whether they represented separate traditions. By Tokugawa times nothing was known about them. 3. Most IM texts were written in hiragana, a kana system derived from whole Chinese characters written in cursive form. Katakana, the other main kana system, derives from elements of Chinese characters selected for their phonetic values. (For a brief discussion of the Japanese writing system, see Reischauer and Fairbank, pp. 511-15.) 4. Yashiro's third and fourth texts probably resembled Teika texts 260

261

Works Cited

WORKS IN JAPANESE Place of publication is Tokyo unless otherwise indicated. Ami Yuji. Chugo\u chusei bunga\u \enkyii. Shinjusha, i960. Aoki Takako. "Ariwara Narihira," in Hisamatsu Sen'ichi and Sanekata Kiyoshi, eds., Chu\o no kajin (Kobundo, i960 [Nihon \a]in \6za, Vol. 2 ] ) , pp. 1-44. Arai Mujiro. Hyosha\u Ise monogatari taisei. Tokyo and Osaka: Yukawa Kobunsha, 1939. Fukui Teisuke. he monogatari seiseiron. Yuseido, 1965. Goto Tanji, ed. Taihei\i. Iwanami Shoten, 1960-62. 3 vols. ( N K B T , Vols. 34-36) Hisamatsu Sen'ichi. Nihon bunga\ushi. Shibundo, 1959-60. 6 vols. Ikeda Kikan. Ise monogatari ni tsukjte no \en\yu. Ookayama Shoten, 1933-34- 3 vols. Ikeda Kikan et al., eds. Ma\ura no soshi • Murasaki Shik\ibu nityi. Iwanami Shoten, 1958. (NKBT, Vol. 19) Ishimura Teikichi. Yuso\u \ojitsu \en\yu. Yiisoku Kojitsu Kenkyu Kankokai, 1958. 2 vols. Iwanami Shoten Henshubu. Nihon kpten bungaku taikei. Iwanami Shoten, 1957-68. Jingu Shicho. Koji ruien. Koji Ruien Kankokai, 1936. 60 vols. Kamata Masanori. [Kosho] Ise monogatari sho\ai. Meicho Kan\6\ai, 1966. Kaneko Motoomi. Ko\inwa\ashii hydshahji. Meiji Shoin, 1930. Kawade Takao. Nihon rekjshi daijiten. Kawade Shobo, 1956-61. 21 vols. Kawaguchi Hisao. Heiancho Nihon \ambunga\ushi no \en\yu. Meiji Shoin, 1964. Kawaguchi Hisao and Shida Nobuyoshi, eds. Wakan roeishu • Ryojin hisho. Iwanami Shoten, 1965. (NKBT, Vol. 73)

263

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Kitamura Shiro, Murata Gen, Koyama Tetsuo, and Hori Masaru. Gensho\u Nihon sho\ubutsu zu\an. Hoikusha, 1966-67. 3 vols. (Hoi\usha no gensho\u zu\an, Vols. 15-17) Kojima Noriyuki. Jodai Nihon bungaku to Chugo\u bunga\u. Hanawa Shobo, 1962-65. 3 vols. , ed. Kaifusd • Bun\a shureishu • Honcho monzui. Iwanami Shoten, 1964. (NKBT, Vol. 69) Kokumin Tosho Kabushiki Kaisha. [Kochu] Ko\\a tai\ei. 1927-31. 28 vols. Kubota Utsubo. Ko\inwa\ashu hyosha\u. Tokyodo, 1964. 3 vols. . [Kampon] Shin\o\inwa\ashu hyoshaku. Tokyodo, 1964-65. 3 vols. Kuroita Katsumi, ed. Nihon sandai jitsuro\u. Kokushi Taikei Kankokai, 1936. ([Shintei zoho] Kokushi tai\ei, Vol. 4) Matsumura Hiroji, ed. 0\agami. Iwanami Shoten, i960. (NKBT, Vol.

Tsuchihashi Yutaka and Konishi Jin'ichi, eds. Kodai \aydshii. Iwanami Shoten, i960. (NKBT, Vol. 3) Watanabe Tsunaya and Nishio Koichi, eds. Ufi shut monogatari. Iwanami Shoten, i960. (NKBT, Vol. 27) Yamagishi Tokuhei, ed. Genji monogatari. Iwanami Shoten, 1958-63. 5 vols. (NKBT, Vols. 14-18) Yokomichi Mario and Omote Akira, eds. Y6\yo\ushu. Iwanami Shoten, 1960-63. 2 vols. (NKBT, Vols. 40-41) Yoshida Togo. Dai Nihon chimei jisho. Fuzambo, 1907. 5 vols. Yumoto Sukeyuki. "Ariwara-uji no shuhen," in Mitani Eiichi and Otsu Yuichi, eds., Ta\etori monogatari • Ise monogatari (Kadokawa Shoten, 1958 [Nihon kfiten fansho koza, Vol. 5 ] ) , pp. 345-58.

21)

Matsushita Daizaburo. Zo\u \okkfi tai\an. Kadokawa Shoten, 1963. 2 vols. Matsushita Daizaburo and Watanabe Fumio. Kotya tai\an. Dai Nippon Tosho Kabushiki Kaisha, 1907. 2 vols. Mizuno Heiji. Ha\u Rakuten to Nihon bungaku. Meguro Shoten, 1930. Nagashima Nobuko. Nihon ifukushi. Kyoto and Tokyo: Geisodo, 1941. Nagata Yoshinao. \Taiya\u\ Ise monogatari shinkp. Okamura Shoten, 1932Nishio Minoru, ed. Tsurezuregusa. Iwanami Shoten, 1957. (NKBT, Vol. 30) Oka Kazuo. Koten to sa\ka. Bunrindo, 1943. Okami Masao, ed. Gi\ei\i. Iwanami Shoten, 1959. (NKBT, Vol. 37) Otsu Yuichi. Ise monogatari—Teika-bon no tembo. Iwanami Shoten, 1931. (Iwanami \6za Nihon bunga\u) Saeki Ariyoshi, ed. Sho\u Nihongi. Asahi Shimbunsha, 1940. ([Zoho] Ri\\o\ushi, Vol. 4) Saeki Umetomo, ed. Ko\inwa\ashu. Iwanami Shoten, 1959. (NKBT, Vol. 8) Sakakura Atsuyoshi et al., eds. Ta\etori monogatari • Ise monogatari • Yamato monogatari. Iwanami Shoten, 1959. (NKBT, Vol. 9) Sawada Hisao. Nihon chimei daijiten. Nihon Shobo, 1939. 6 vols. Suzuki Tomotaro et ah, eds. Tosa nifyi • Kagero ni\\i • Izumi Shi\ibu nityi • Sarashina ni\\i. Iwanami Shoten, i960. (NKBT, Vol. 20) Takagi Ichinosuke et al., eds. Mariyoshu. Iwanami Shoten, 1959-62. 4 vols. (NKBT, Vols. 4-7) Tokugawa Mitsukuni et al. Dai Nihonshi. Dai Nihon Yiibenkai, 192829. 16 vols.

264

WORKS IN WESTERN LANGUAGES Bonneau, Georges, he Monument poetique de Heian: le Ko\inshu. Paris: Libraire Orientaliste Paul Guenther, 1933-35. 3 v °l s Brower, Robert H. and Earl Miner. Japanese Court Poetry. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1961. De Bary, Wm. Theodore, et al., eds. Sources of Chinese Tradition. New York: Columbia University Press, 1964. 2 vols. . Sources of the Japanese Tradition. New York; Columbia University Press, 1958. Hisamatsu Sen'ichi. The Vocabulary of Japanese Literary Aesthetics. Tokyo: Centre for East Asian Cultural Studies, 1963. Keene, Donald. Anthology of Japanese Literature. New York: Grove Press, 1955. McCullough, Helen Craig, tr. The Taihei\i. New York: Columbia University Press, 1959. . Yoshitsune. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1966. McCullough, W m . H. "Japanese Marriage Institutions in the Heian Period." Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies, XXVII (1967), 103-67. Minnich, Helen Benton. Japanese Costume. Tokyo and Rutland, Vt.: Tuttle, 1963. Nippon Gakujutsu Shinkokai. Japanese Noh Drama. Tokyo: Nippon Gakujutsu Shinkokai, 1955-60. 3 vols. . The Manyoshu: One Thousand Poems. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1940. (Republished in 1965 by Columbia University Press, with a new foreword by Donald Keene.) Plummer, John. The Hours of Catherine of Cleves. New York: George Braziller, 1966. Ponsonby-Fane, Richard. Studies in Shinto and Shrines. Kyoto: Ponsonby Memorial Society, 1957.

265

Wor\s Cited Porter, W m . N., tr. The Tosa Diary. London: Henry Frowde, 1912. Reischauer, Edwin O. and John K. Fairbank. A History of East Asian Civilization. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960-65. Vol. I. Sansom, George B. "Early Japanese Law and Administration," Part I. Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, Second Series, IX (1932), 67-109. . A History of Japan to 1334. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1958. , tr. "The Tsuredzure Gusa of Yoshida no Kaneyoshi." Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, Vol. XXXIX (1911). Seidensticker, Edward, tr. The Gossamer Years: The Diary of a Noblewoman of Heian Japan. Tokyo and Rutland, Vt.: Tuttle, 1964. Vos, Frits. A Study of the lse-Monogatari. T h e Hague: Mouton, 1957. 2 vols. Waley, Arthur, tr. The Pillow-Boo\ of Sei Shonagon. London: Allen and Unwin, 1949. . The Tale of Genji. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1935. 6 parts in 2 vols. Yamashina, Yoshimaro. Birds in Japan: A Field Guide. Tokyo: Tokyo News Service, 1961.

266

Index of First Lines

Ada nari to (IM 17), 82 Aimite wa (IM 22), 87 Aiomowade (IM 24), 90 Akanaku ni (IM 82), 10, 126, 180 Akanedomo (IM 78), 123 Aki kakete (IM 96), 136 Aki no no ni/namamekitateru, 167 Aki no no ni/sasa wakeshi asa no (IM25),9i, 176 Aki no yo mo (IM 143), 156, 168 Aki no yo no .. ./naseri tomo (IM22X87 Aki no yo no .. ./nazuraete (IM 22), 87 Aki no yo wa (IM 94), 134 Aki ya kuru (IM 16), 82 Akikaze ni, 170 Ama no karu (IM 65), 113 Ama no sumu, 169 Amagumo no/yoso ni mo hito no (IM 19), 83 Amagumo no/yoso ni nomi shite (IM 19), 84 Amata araba (IM 133), 153 Amatsu kaze, 166 Aoyagi no, 34 Aoyagi o, 254 Aratama no (IM 24), 90 Arenikeri (IM 58), 107 Asamikoso (IM 107), 141, 176 Asamidori, 162 Asatsuyu wa (IM 50), 104 Ashibe kogu (IM 92), 133 Ashibe yori (IM 33), 94

Ashinoya no (IM 87), 130 Au koto wa (IM 30), 93 Aware cho, 171 Ayame kari (IM 52), 105 Azusayumi/hikedo hikanedo (IM 24), 90 Azusayumi/mayumi tsukiyumi (IM 24), 90 Chihayaburu/kami no igaki mo (IM7i), 118 Chihayaburu/kami ya kiriken, 164 Chihayaburu/kamiyo mo kikazu (IM 106), 141, 173 Chiji no aki (IM 94), 135 Chireba koso (IM 82), 125 Chirinureba, 165 Fuku kara ni, 37, 159 Fuku kaze ni/kozo no sakura wa (IM 50), 104 Fuku kaze ni/wa ga mi o nasaba (IM64),in Furikurashi (IM 126), 150 Futari shite (IM 37), 96 Hachisuba no, 35, 163 Hana ni akanu (IM 29), 92 Hana no iro wa/kasumi ni komete, 162 Hana no iro wa/utsurinikeri na, 167 Hana no ki ni, 160 Hana yori mo (IM 109), 143 Haru no hi no/hikari ni ataru, 159

267

Index of First Lines Haru no hi no/itari itaranu (IM 132), 152 H a r u r u y o no (IM 87), 131 Harusame no, 161 Hatsukusa no (IM 49), 103 Hikoboshini (IM 95), 135 Hisakata no, 33 Hito ni awan, 40, 171 H i t o o o m o u (IM 131), 152 Hito shirenu (IM 5 ) , 72 Hito shirezu (IM 89), 132, 176 H i t o w a i s a (IM 21), 85 Hito wa yoshi, 211 Hitotose ni (IM 82), 126 Hototogisu (IM 43), 100 Idete inaba/kagiri narubemi (IM 3 9 ) , 97 Idete inaba/kokoro karushi to (IMai),85 Idete inaba/tare ka wakare no (IM4o),g8 Idetekoshi (IM 42), 99 Idete yuku (IM 44), 100 Ieba eni (IM 3 4 ) , 94 Ika de ka wa (IM 53), 105 I m a k o n to, 165 Ima made ni (IM 86), 129 Ima wa tote/ware ni shigure no (IM 131), 152, 170 Ima wa tote/wasururu kusa no (IM2i),86 Ima zo shiru (IM 48), 103, 181 Inishie no/nioi wa izura (IM 62), 109 Inishie no/shizu no odamaki (IM 3 2 ) , 93 Inishie w a ( I M i n ) , i 4 3 Inochi ya wa, 228 I o r i o k i (IM 43), 100 Iro miede, 170 Isasame ni (IM 139), 155 Itazura ni (IM 65), 114 Ito aware (IM 39), 97 Ito semete, 168 Itodoshiku (IM 7 ) , 74 Itsu no ma ni (IM 20), 84 Iwama yon (IM 7 5 ) , 120

268

Iwane fumi (IM 7 4 ) , 119 Iza sakura (IM 139), 155 Kachibito no (IM 69), 117 Kagamiyama, 37,161 Kagiri naki, 169 Kakikurasu (IM 69), 116,177 Karagoromo (IM 9 ) , 75, 174 Kari nakite (IM 68), 115 Karikurashi (IM 82), 126, 175 Karisome ni (IM 129), 151 Kashigamashi (IM 138), 154 Kasugano no (IM 1), 69 Katamikoso (IM 119), 147 Kaze fukeba/okitsu shiranami (IM23),88 Kaze fukeba/towa ni nami kosu (IM 108), 142 Kazukazu ni (IM 107), 142, 177 Kimi ga atari (IM 2 3 ) , 89 Kimi ga tame (IM 2 0 ) , 84 Kimi komu to (IM 2 3 ) , 89 Kimi masade, 237 Kimi ni yori (IM 38), 96 Kimi ya koshi (IM 69), 4 8 , 1 1 6 K i n o k y o (IM 6 7 ) , 115 Koiseji to (IM 65), 113 Koishi to wa (IM 111), 144 Koishiku w a ( I M 7 i ) , n 8 Koiwabinu (IM 5 7 ) , 106 Kokoro o zo (IM 2 8 ) , 151 Komorie ni (IM 33), 94 Konu hito o (IM 136), 154 Kore ya k o n o / a m a no hagoromo (IM 16), 82 Kore ya k o n o / w a r e ni au mi o (IM62), n o Kurabekoshi(IM23),88 Kuregataki (IM 45), 101 Kurenai ni/niou ga ue no (IM 18), 83 Kurenai ni/niou wa izura (IM 18), 83 Kurihara no (IM 14), 80 Kusa fukaki, 160 Kusa mo ki mo, 160 Kyo kozu wa (IM 17), 82, 172 Makura tote (IM 83), 127

Index j First Lines Mayone kaki, 249 Me ni wa mite (IM 7 3 ) , 119 Mekaru to mo (IM 4 6 ) , 102 Michinoku no (IM 1), 70 Mina hito wa, 166 Minakuchi ni (IM 2 7 ) , 92 Mirume karu (IM 7 0 ) , 118 Mirume naki (IM 2 5 ) , 39, 91, 168 Miyako yori (IM 141), 156 Miyoshinono (IM 10), 14, 77 Mizu mo arazu (IM 9 9 ) , 137,175 Momotoseni (IM 63), n o Mugura oite (IM 5 8 ) , 107 Murasaki no/hitomoto yue ni, 220 Murasaki no/iro koki toki wa ( I M 4 i ) , 9 9 , 179 Musashi abumi (IM 13), 79 Musashino wa (IM 12), 78 Mutsumashi to (IM 117), 146 Na ni medete, 163 Na ni shi owaba/ada ni zo arubeki (IM 61), 109 Na ni shi owaba/iza koto towamu (IM 9 ) , 7 6 , 1 7 4 Na nomi tatsu (IM 4 3 ) , 100 Nadote kaku (IM 28), 12, 92 Nagakaranu (IM 113), 144 Nakanaka ni (IM 14), 79 Nakazora n i . . ./narinubeki kana ( I M 1 3 0 ) , 151 Nakazora n i . . ./narinikeru kana (IM2i),86 Namida ni zo (IM 7 5 ) , 120 Namima yori (IM 116), 146 N a n i w a z u o (IM 66), 114 Narawaneba (IM 38), 96 Nenuru yo no (IM 103), 140, 177 N o k o r i n a k u , 238 No to naraba (IM 123), 149 Nukimidaru (IM 87), 131,180 Nuretsutsu zo (IM 80), 123,172 Oinureba (IM 84), 128 Oki mo sezu (IM 2 ) , 70, 175 O k i n o ite (IM 115), 145, 171 Okinasabi (IM 114), 145

Omoedomo (IM 85), 129 Omoi araba (IM 3 ) , 70 Omoiamari (IM n o ) , 143 Omoiidete, 161 Omoitsutsu/nureba ya hito no (IM 142), 156, 167 Omoitsutsu/oreba subenashi (IM 136), 154 Omou kai (IM 2 1 ) , 85 Omou koto (IM 124), 149 Omou ni wa (IM 65), 112 Omou ni wa .. ./au ni shi kaeba ( I M 5 5 ) , 112 Omou ni wa .. ./iro ni wa ideji to, 228 Omoezu (IM 2 6 ) , 91 Oroka naru, 168 Oshimedomo (IM 9 1 ) , 133 Oshinabete (IM 82), 126 Ohara ya/Oshio no yama mo (IM 7 6 ) , 121, 179 Ohara ya/sekai no mizu o (IM 127), 150 Okata wa (IM 88), 132, 179 Omi naru (IM 120), 147 Omi no ya, 162 Onaona (IM 9 3 ) , 134 Onusa no (IM 47), 102 Onusa to (IM 4 7 ) , 102, 178 Oyodo n o / h a m a ni ou cho (IM 75), _ 119 Oyodo no/matsu wa tsuraku mo (IM72),n8 Saga no yama, 252 Saku hana no (IM 101), 139 Sakurabana/chirikaikumore ( I M 9 7 ) , 137, 173 Sakurabana/kyo koso kaku mo (IM 9 0 ) , 133 Samushiro n i (IM 63), i n Sari tomo to (IM 65), 113 Sato wa arete, 163 Satsuki matsu (IM 60), 108 Sayofukete (IM 140), 155 Shinano naru (IM 8), 74 Shinobuyama (IM 15), 80 Shiogama ni (IM 81), 124

269

Index j First Lines Shiratama ka (IM 6 ) , 73 Shiratsuyu wa (IM 105), 140 Shiru shiranu (IM 9 9 ) , 138 Shitahimono (IM H I ) , 144 Sode nurete (IM 75), 120 Somegawa o (IM 6 1 ) , 109 Somuku tote (IM 102), 139 S u m a n o a m a no (IM 112), 144 Sumiwabinu (IM 5 9 ) , 108 Suruga naru (IM 9 ) , 13, 75 Tama no o o (IM 3 5 ) , 95 Tamakazura (IM 118), 147 Tani sebami (IM 3 6 ) , 95 T e o o r i t e (IM 16), 81 T o e b a i u (IM 13), 79 Toki shiranu (IM 9 ) , 76 Tori no ko o (IM 50), 103 Toritomenu (IM 6 4 ) , 111 T o s h i d a n i m o (IM 16), 81 T o s h i o h e t e (IM 123), 148, 181 T s u i n i y u k u (IM 125), 149, 179 Tsuki shi areba (IM 135), 153 Tsuki ya aranu (IM 4), 52, 71, 178 Tsukikage ni, 32 Tsumi mo naki (IM 3 1 ) , 93 Tsurezure no (IM 107), 141 Tsutsui tsu no (IM 2 3 ) , 88 Uchiwabite (IM 58), 107 U e s h i u e b a (IM 5 1 ) , 105, 173 Uguisu no .. ./kasa mo gana (IM 121), 148 Uguisu no .. ./kasa wa ina (IM 121) 148 Uki nagara (IM 22), 87 Ura wakami (IM 49), 103 Utatane ni, 40,167 Utsutsu ni wa, 169 W a ga ie wa (IM 129), 151 W a ga io wa, 36, 162 Wa ga kado ni (IM 7 9 ) , 123

270

Wa ga kata ni (IM 10), 77 Wa ga sode wa (IM 5 6 ) , 106 Wa ga tanomu (IM 9 8 ) , 137 W a ga ue ni (IM 5 9 ) , 108 Wa ga yado ni (IM 134), 153 Wa ga yado wa, 165 Wa ga y o o b a (IM 87), 130 Wabibito no/sumubeki yado to, 166 Wabibito n o / w a k i t e tachiyoru, 164 Wabinureba, 171 Ware bakari (IM 2 7 ) , 92 Ware mite mo (IM 117), 146 Ware narade (IM 3 7 ) , 95 Wasuregusa/ouru nobe to wa (IM 100), 138 Wasuregusa/uu to dani kiku (IM 21)

86 Wasurete wa (IM 83), 128,181 Wasuru na yo (IM 11), 78 Wasururan to (IM 21), 86 W a t a t s u m i n o ( I M 8 7 ) , 131 Yama no mina (IM 7 7 ) , 121 Yamakaze ni, 165 Yamashiro no (IM 122), 148 Yayamosureba (IM 126), 150 Yo mo akeba (IM 14), 80 Yo no naka ni/saranu wakare no (IM 84), 128,180 Yo no naka ni/taete sakura no (IM 82), 50, 125, 172 Y o o u m i no (IM 104), 140 Yoi goto ni (IM 108), 142 Yoso ni mite, 163 Yukifureba, 38 Yukikaeri, 178 Yukiyaranu (IM 5 4 ) , 105 Yumejini wa, 169 Yuku hotaru (IM 45), 101 Yuku mizu ni (IM 5 0 ) , 104 Yuku mizu to (IM 5 0 ) , 104 Yiigure no, 164 Yuzukuyo (IM 137), 154

General Index Ise monogatari is abbreviated in subentries as IM. Parentheses around page numbers indicate repetitions of poems.

Abo, Prince, 4 1 , 245 Akuta River, 72 Amanogawa, see River of Heaven Amenokoyane no Mikoto, 233 Anjoji Temple, I2if, 234 Aoi Festival, see Kamo Festival Arai, Mujiro, 239 archery, 137 (175), 213, 235 Ariwara family, 4 1 , 1 1 2 Narihira (Commander of the Right Horse Bureau, Middle Captain of the Imperial Guards of the Right), 5, 10, 3 5 ; life, 4 1 - 5 0 ; and Fujiwara, 46f, 209; poetry, 50-54, 2 0 3 4, 248, 2 5 4 - 5 5 ; a n d Tsurayuki, 54, 198; as protagonist of IM, 61 {see also " m a n of o l d " ) ; presumed author of IM, 64, 184, 196; ideal Heian lover, n o — n , 227; Kokinshu poems by, 172—81; legendary travels in east, 202. See also Fujiwara Koshi; Ise Virgin; "Narihira Collection" Yukihira, 3 1 , 123, 138, 153, 239; successful career, 42, 236, 240; at hunt, 145, 251-52; exiled, 250 Asama, Mt., 74, 203 Ashiya Village, i3of, 237 Awa Province, 180; Library, 190 awao (string of gems), 95, 217 ayame (sweet-flag), 105, 224 bamboo, 9 1 , 123 (176), 235-36; watercourse bamboo, 155, 258 banquets, 27, 3 1 , 235; chrysanthemum, 19, 2 1 , 27; Wen hsiian, 28. See also celebrations; festivals beaches: Sumiyoshi, 115, 146, 230, 2 5 3 ; Chisato, 122; Suma, 250

Brower, Robert H., and Earl Miner, 4f; quoted, 6, 25, 33, 51 Buddha, Amida, 24, 234 buddhas: prayers to: 30, 98, 112-13, 163; becoming a buddha, 234-35 Buddhism: in China, 18, 2 1 , 2 2 - 2 3 ; m Japan, 2 3 - 2 5 ; funeral rites, I2if, 234; Lotus Sutra, 216, 218; Nirvana Sutra, 234. See also preceding entries; T e m ples; and individual monies by name Bun'ya Yasuhide, 35, 3 7 - 3 8 , 39, 1 7 1 ; Kokinshii poems by, 159-60 bush clover (medo, medohagi), 160, 254,259 capital-bird (miya\odori), 76 ( 1 7 4 ) , 205 celebrations: cherry blossom, 19, 92, 216; birthday, 47, 92, 123, 136-37 ( 1 7 3 ) , 215-16, 242; New Year, 129, 2 39> 2 5 9 ! coming-of-age, 152, 257. See also banquets; festivals Ch'ang-an, 26 Chibatext ( o f I M ) , i 8 8 China: influence rejected by \o\uga\usha,y, moon-watching ritual, 10; and Japanese poetic tradition, 1 5 - 5 5 ; attitude to fiction, 16; third-century religious upheaval, 18; ju, i8f; first nature poetry, 19; landscape painting, 19; shih, 19-20; Buddhism, 18, 21, 2 2 - 2 3 ; predominance of in Early Heian Japan, 25-30; influence on wahfi, 3 2 - 3 4 ; influence on Narihira, 5off; Chinese-character versions of IM, 191-92. See also Confucianism; Taoism; and individual dynasties by name Chisato, Beach of, 122

271

General Index cicada, 9, 165 cinnamon tree (on moon), 119, 232 clothing, 69, 142, 166, 168, 210; criticized, 7 - 8 , 145, 251-52; gifts of, 8 1 82, 98, 100, 129, 240. See also "forbidden colors" cockcrow, 80, 87, 105 Confucianism: the Confucian ideal, 15— 17, 197; role of poetry in, 16-17; waning, 18, 2 1 ; in Heian, 2 1 - 2 2 ; in Six Dynasties, 21-22; in T a n g , 22 crane, 145, 251 deities, see buddhas; gods demons, 73, 226 "Dialogue on Poverty," 54-55 diviners, 113 Eastern Hills, 107 Eastern Temple (Toji), 259 Edo period, see Tokugawa period Eight Bridges (Yatsuhashi), 74-75 (173),203 Eikokan text (of I M ) , 192 Emperor of the Western (Junna) Palace, see Junna, Emperor emperors, Japanese: vs. nobility, 27—28. See also individual emperors by name Empress from Somedono, see Fujiwara Meishi Empress from the Fifth Ward, see Fujiwara Junshi Empress from the Second Ward, see Fujiwara Koshi engo (associative w o r d ) , 12, 14, 54 falconry, see hawking feather robe (hagoromo), 82, 209 ferryman, 76 (174) festivals, 27; Sweet-Flag, 105, 223-24; Kamo (Aoi), 140, 2 4 5 - 4 7 ; Pot (Tsuk u m a ) , 147, 253-54; Thanksgiving, 166, 260; Tanabata, 226. See also banquets; celebrations fireflies, 9 7 , 1 0 1 , 131 fishermen, 9 1 , 106, 131, 144, i68f Flirtation Island (Tawarejima), 109.227 forbidden colors (kinjiki), 98, 112, 219.228 forgetting-grass (wasuregusa, day lily), 8 6 , 9 3 , 138,211 frogs, 92, 142, 249 fu (Chinese prose p o e m ) , i8f

272

fuji, see wisteria Fuji, Mt., 75-76, 204 Fujiwara family, 2 7 ^ 3of, 42, 77; genealogy, 46; and Narihira, 46f, 209; tutelary god, 233 Junshi (Empress from the Fifth W a r d ) , 46, 216 Koshi (Empress from die Second Ward, Mother of the Crown Prince, Takaiko), 44, 45-49, 5 2 - 5 3 , 57> 216, 233 Kunitsune, 73 Masachika, 138, 244 Meishi (Empress from Somedono), 4 6 , 1 1 4 , 216, 229 Mototsune (Minister of State from Horikawa, Minister of the Right), 44f, 47, 73, 136-37 ( i 7 3 ) , 242f Takakiko, I2if, 234 Tameie, 185,188 Tamesuke, 185, i88f Tameuji, vii, 185, 189 Teika, vii, 183-89 passim Toshiyuki, 33, 48, 141-42 ( 1 7 7 ) , 248 Tsuneyuki, I2if, 234 Yoshifusa (Chancellor, Minister of the Right), 45-46, 47, 137, 139, 209, 242f Yoshisuke, 234f Yoshitsune, 190 Yozei, 45, 216 See also individual Emperors, etc., by name Fukakusa, 148 (181), 244—45 Fukakusa Emperor, see N i m m y o , Emperor Fukui Teisuke, 63-64, 187-94 passim, 199, 261 Furu-no-taki Waterfall, 163 Genji monogatari, ?,i, 7 - 8 , 24, 30, 56, 222; and IM, 4, 59, 65, 199, 239. See also following entry; and Murasaki Shikibu Genji, Prince, 9, 43, 49, 227, 250 Genshin, monk, 189 gods, 98, 112-13, 118, 132, i63f, 232; of Mt. Oshio, 121 (179), 233; of the sea, 131, 240; of Sumiyoshi, 146, 230, 253; of Fujiwara family, 233; food deity, 253; age of the gods, 121, 141 (173) ( 1 7 9 ) . See also buddhas goose, wild, 14, 77, 101, 115, 161, 221, 249

General Index Gosechi dancers, 166, 260 Gosenshu (second imperial antiology), 47,57 Gossamer Years, The, 7, 30 "Great Learning, T h e , " 15, 197 Great Western Temple, 162 Gu\ansho, 189 hagoromo (feather robe), 82, 209 hair and hair ornaments, 85, 88, 95, n o , 130, 1 5 2 - 5 3 , 1 5 9 , 2 1 1 Han dynasty (206 B.C.-A.D. 220), 15— 16; governing elite, 15-16; collapse, 18-19; poetry (fu), i8f handwriting, 7 , 1 6 Hata family, 245 hawking, 124, 145, 230, 250-52 Heian, see Japan, Heian; Kyoto Heizei, ex-Emperor, 41 Henjo, Archbishop (Yoshimine Munesada), 35, 38f, 259; Ko\inshu poems by, 162-67 hens' eggs, 103 herb of remembrance (shinobugusa), 138, 243-44 Herdsman, see Weaver Maid and the Herdsman Hiei, Mt., 76, 127, 166 (181), 204, 239 hiji\omo, see under seaweed hiragana (kana system), 191, 260 Hisamatsu Sen'ichi, 186 H o m m a A r t Museum, 191 Horikawa, see Fujiwara Motosune hototogisu (cuckoo), 99f, 220-21 Hojo Tokiyori, 189 I k e d a K i k a n , 186, 188 Ikoma, Mt., 89, 114, 213 Imperial Household Agency, 187-92 passim Imperial Huntsman, 115-17, 23of; texts of IM, 6 3 - 6 4 , 1 9 3 , 261 Imperial Messenger (in K a m o Festival), 246-47 impermanence, Japanese preoccupation with, gf, 2 4 - 2 5 , 50-55 passim Inari Shrine, 244 India, 22 Intendance Bureau, 112, 228 iris (\akitsubata), 75 (174) Ise, Lady, 62, 64, 212 he monogatari, 3 - 5 , 55—65; texts, vii, 58-60, 63-64, 182-93, 2 6 0 - 6 1 ; and Genji monogatari, 4, 59, 65, 199, 239;

reputation, 4 - 5 , 239; and Ko\inshii, 5, 6 0 - 6 1 , 196; date, 5, 64-65, 196, 206; and native love poetry, 55; structure, 5 6 - 5 8 , 64, 238; love as theme, 60; circumstances of composition, 60, 64; tide, 61, 6 2 - 6 3 , J 9 9 ; authorship, 64, 196 Ise Province, 62, 74, 115-17, n 8 f , 230 Ise Shrine, 230; Library text (of I M ) , i8gf Ise Virgin (Princess Tenshi?), 48-49, 57-63 passim, 115-18, I3g£ (177), 193, 198, 23o£ Isseido Bookstore, 189 Ito, Princess, 4 1 , 128, 239 Izumi Province, 114—15 Izumi Shikibu, 193 Japan, Heian (794-1185), 6-14; Kohjnshu and IM in, 3, 193; prose, 4, 3 0 3 1 , 56; resemblances to Six Dynasties China, 17, 20—21; Confucianism, 21— 22; love and marriage, 9, 40, no—11, 2 1 0 - n , 2i2f, 223, 227; Buddhism, 23—25; Chinese predominance in Early Heian, 2 5 - 3 0 ; capital, see Kyoto. See other Japanese historical periods by name jewelry, 85, 93, 95, 211 Jichin, priest, 189 jo (preface), 13, 54 Journal of Narihira, see Ise monogatari Junna, Emperor, 96, 218, 255 Junna Palace (Western Palace), 96, 151, 218, 255 Junshi, see Fujiwara Junshi Kagamiyama (Mirror Mountain), 37 (161), 162 Kaifuso, 197 ka\e\otoba (pivot w o r d ) , 12, 14, 54 \a\itsubata (iris), 75 (174) Kamakura period (1185-1333), 187-92 passim, 247, 260 Kammu, Emperor, 4 1 , 220, 225, 239, 250 Kamo Festival, 140, 245-47; shrines, 229, 245-47^ Kamo Mabuchi, 192, 239 Kamo River, 124, 245 \ana (Japanese syllabaries), 30. See also hiragana; \ata\ana Kanazawa University, 187 Kannondo Temple, 237

273

General Index karagoromo (robe), 75, 204 karma, 24, 113 Kasuga: Plain, 69, 199-200, 206; shrine, 233 kalakana (kana system), 186, 189, 260 Katano, 125, 237, 251 Katsuragu text (of IM), 192 Kawachi Province, 88f, 114 kawatake (watercourse bamboo), 155, 258 Kaya, Prince, 99, 220 Kazan, 163^ 259 \azari chimak}, see rice dumplings Kensho, monk, 183-84, 185, 190, 193 Ki family, 44, 46, 209 Aritsune, 44, 48, 8 1 , 96, 126, 209; daughter of, 44, 57 (178), 209; wife of, 81 Natora, 209 Sadafun, 152 Tomonori, 38, 211 Toshisada, 48, 180-81, 222 Tsurayuki, 11-12, 54-55, 64, 198; preface to Kokinshii, 6, 34-40 passim, 54 Kii Province, 122 kinjik}, see forbidden colors Kisen, monk, 35-37, 38 (162) Kokinshii (first imperial anthology), 3, 11-12, 3 1 , 5 3 - 5 5 ; prefaces, 6, 34-40 passim, 54, 197; and IM, 5, 6 0 - 6 1 ; poems of Six Poetic Geniuses, 159-81. See also following entry Ko\inshuchu (Commentary on Kokinshii), 183, 190 Kokugakuin University, 188 Komachi, see Ono no Komachi Korea, 23 Korehito, Prince, see Seiwa, Emperor Koresada, Prince, i59f Koretaka, Prince, 44-45, 46f, 57, 59, 209; hunting excursion, 10—n (126) ( T 75) ( J 8 o ) , 237; becomes monk, 45, 127, 129 (181), 209, 238f Koshikibu no Naishi, Lady, vii, 192 koto, 166 Koko, Emperor (Ninna Emperor), 145, i63f, 250, 251-52 \o\ugakusha (scholars of national learning), 3 Koroden, 138, 243 Koshi, see Fujiwara Koshi Kujo text (of I M ) , 192 Kuronushi, see Otomo Kuronushi

274

\utani plant, 165, 259 kuwago (silkworm), 79, 208 Kyoto ( H e i a n ) , 8, 26, 70, 225, 245 Kyushu (Tsukushi), 41, 109,156, 258; University, 188 landscape gardening, 8, 19, 2 1 , 30, 122, 163,236-37 landscape painting, 19, 30 leopard-flower berry (mubatama, blackberry lily), 154,168, 257-58 letter writing, 7 Li Po, 29 Lotus Sutra, 216, 218 maiden flower (ominaeshi), 163, 167, 259 makura \otoba (pillow w o r d ) , 13 " m a n of old," 49-50, 56-58, 61 Man'yoshii (Collection for Ten T h o u sand Generations), 3, 12, 2 1 , 26, 32, 191; "Dialogue on Poverty," 54-55 maples, 75, 84, I35f medohagi (bush clover), 160, 254, 259 Meiji Restoration (1868), 3 Michinoku Province, 70, 79f, 124, I45f, 208, 236 Mikawa Province, 74, 170 (173) Mimbukyo, Lady, 191 Minamoto family, 42 Itaru, 96-97, 218 Shitago, 97, 218-19 T o m , 124, 201, 236-37 Yoshitsune, 43 Minase, 124-25,127, 237 Ministry of Ceremonial, 28 Mirror Mountain (Kagamiyama), 37 ( 1 6 1 ) , 162 mirume, see under seaweed Mitarashigawa (Stream of Purification), miya\odori (capital b i r d ) , 76 (174), 205 Miyakoshima, 145 (171), 252 Miyoshino, 14, 7 7 , 1 0 1 , 115 Mizunoo Emperor, see Seiwa, Emperor Mochiyoshi, Minister of Imperial Household, 131 Momozono Library, 188 mono no aware, 11, 22 Montoku, Emperor (Tamura Emperor), 44, 57, 117, 121, 209, 234, 237 moon-watching ritual, 10—n, 21 morning glory, 95

General Index moss, scraped, 122, 235; moss-fern design, 69, 200 Mubara (Ubara), 94, 130, 217, 240 mubatama, see leopard-flower berry murasaki (young purple), 69, 99 (179), 199—200, 219-20 Murasaki Shikibu, 7-8, 62, 222. See also Genji monogatari Murasakino, 246, 259 Muromachi period (1336-1568), 188 Musashi: Plain, 78, 99, 206; Province, 76f, 78f ( 1 7 4 ) ; stirrups, 78, 207 music, i6f, 101, 113, 166 Nagaoka, 106, 128,225 Nagisa House, 11, 50 (125) (172), 237 Naikaku Bunko text, 192 Nakanoin Michikatsu, 187 Naniwa Bay (Osaka Bay), 114, 229f, 237, 253 Nara period ( 7 1 0 - 9 4 ) : national university established, 28; capital city, 26, 56, 69f, 152, 166, 225; Kaijuso, 197 Narihira, see Ariwara Narihira "Narihira Collection," 61-65 nature poetry: Heian, 8-9, 10, 2 1 ; Chinese, 19-20 Nijo (Mikohidari) family, i83ff. See also, under Fujiwara family, Tameie; Tamesuke, Tameuji; Teika Nimmyo, Emperor (Fukakusa E m peror), 35, 139-40, 160, 166, 235, 244, 259 Ninna Emperor, see Koko, Emperor Nirvana Sutra, 234 Nunobiki Falls, 130-31 (180), 240 Okinoite Miyakojima, 145 (171), 252 ominaeshi (maiden flower), 163, 167, 259 Ono, 59, 127 ( 1 8 1 ) , 238-39 Ono no Komachi, 35, 3 8 - 4 1 , 51, 5 7 - 5 8 ; Kokinshii poems by, 167-71, 256 onusa (sacred w a n d ) , 102 (178), 221—22 Oshio, Mt., 121 (179), 233 Owari Province, 74, 117 Ohara, Oharano, 121, 150 (179), 233, _ 238 0\agami (The Great Mirror), 45 Omi, 147, 162, 253 Osaka Barrier, 117, 231 Osaka Bay, see Naniwa Bay Oshima text (of I M ) , vii, i8gf

Otomo Kuronushi, 35, 37f; Kokinshii poems by, 161-62 Otomo Yakamochi, 44 Otsu Yuichi, vii, 186 Oyodo, 117ff, 231 painting, 10, i6f, 19, 3 0 , 1 3 4 pheasant, 137, 243 Pillow Boo\, 3 ° ; 197 pillow word (makura \otoba), 13 Pine of Aneha at Kurihara, 80, 208 pivot word (kake\otoba), 12, 14 plum blossoms, 8, 52 (71) (178), 243; artificial, 137; bonnet of, 148, 254 Plum Court (Umetsubo), 147, 254 Po Chii-i, 32, 235 "Poems on Things," 30 Pot Festival (Festival of T s u k u m a ) , 147, 253-54 prayers, see buddhas; gods prose, Heian, 4, 30—31, 56 purification, ritual, 112—13, 221—22, 228—29; of Kamo Virgin, 245—47 quail, 149 Reizei Tamekazu, 188 rice dumplings, decorated (kazari chimakf), 105, 223—24 River of Dyes (Somegawa), 109, 226-27 River of Heaven (Amanogawa, Milky W a y ) , 108, 125-26, 135 (175), 226, 238. See also Weaver Maid and the Herdsman Riverside Palace, 124, 236—37 Rokhflsen, see Six Poetic Geniuses rooster, 80 Rokujo family, 183-84, 185, 190 sacred fence, 118, 146, 232, 253 sacred wands (onusa), 102 (178), 221-22 Sadakazu, Prince, 123, 235 Saga, Emperor, 26-27, 30, 218, 236, 245; and hawking, 250, 251—52 salt-cone (shiojiri), 76, 204—5 Sandai jitsuroku (True Records of Three Reigns), 41-44, 233 Saneyasu, Prince, 122, 235 Sanjonishi family, vii, 187-88 Sanko Ise monogatari, 186 Sansom, Sir George, quoted, 6 seaweed, 106, 131; mirume, 39 ( 9 1 ) ,

275

* General Index n 8 f (168), 215, 2 3 2 - 3 3 ; hijikpmo, 7 0 - 7 1 , 201 Sei Shonagon, 30, 197 Seinan Shrine, 251-52 Seiryoden, 138, 243, 258 Seiwa, Emperor (Prince Korehito, Mizunoo Emperor), 44fT, 57, 114, 117, 122,209,235 Senshu texts (of I M ) , 190 Serikawa River, 145, 251-52 Settsu Province, 94, 114, 130, 237 Shiga Temple, 163 shih, 19-20, 27-33 passim Shimosa Province, 76 (174) Shinano Province, 74 Shinobazu Library text (of I M ) , 191 Shinobu District, 70, 200, 208 Shinobu, Mt., 80, 208 shinobugusa (herb of remembrance), 138, 243-44 Shinto rituals, 2 1 , 102, 112-13 ( 1 7 8 ) , 221-22, 228-29, 2 4 5 - 4 7 ; sacred fence, 118, 146, 232, 253; sacred wands (pnusd), 102 (178), 221—22. See also celebrations; festivals; gods; and individual shrines by name Shiogama Bay, 124, 236 shiojiri (salt-cone), 76, 204—5 shizu cloth, 93, 217 shobu (sweet-flag), 224 Shotetsu, poet-critic, 187 Shushi, Princess (Takaiko), 96, 218 silkworm (kuwago), 79, 208 Six Dynasties period (ca. 222-ca. 589), 15; poetry, 17, 18-25, 3 ° , x 9 7 ; r e _ semblances to Heian, 2 0 - 2 1 ; Confucianism, 21-22; Buddhism, 22—23; influence on Japanese poetry, 32—33, _ 5 ° . 257 Six Poetic Geniuses (Rokkasen), 3 5 - 5 5 ; Ko\inshii poems by, 1 5 9 - 8 1 . See also individual Genius by name smoke, 7 4 , 1 4 4 Somedono, Empress from, see Fujiwara Meishi Somegawa (River of Dyes), 109, 226-27 Stream of Purification (Mitarashigawa), 113, 228-29 Sui dynasty (ca. 5 8 1 - 6 1 8 ) , 20 Suma, 144, 250 Sumida River (Tone River?), 76 (174), 205 Sumiyoshi, Beach of, 115, 146, 230, 253 Suruga Province, 13 (75)

276

Suzaku Palace, 191, 261 Sweet-Flag Festival, 105, 223-24 sweet-flags (ayame), 105, 224 Tachibana Tadamoto, 206 Takaiko, see Fujiwara Koshi; Shushi, Princess Takaoka, Prince, 235 Takashina Naritada, 191 Takayasu, 88f Takeda texts (of I M ) , 187 Tale of Genji, see Genji monogatari Tales of Ise, see Ise monogatari Tales of Narihira, see Ise monogatari tamahflzura (gemmed fillet), 85,211 T a m a m i z u (Excellent W a t e r ) , 148, 254 Tameie, see Fujiwara Tameie Tamesuke, see Fujiwara Tamesuke Tameuji, see Fujiwara Tameuji T a m u r a Emperor, see Montoku, Emperor Tanabata Festival, 226 T ' a n g dynasty ( 6 1 8 - 9 0 6 ) , 15; civil service examinations, 16; influence on Japan, 2 1 ; poetry, 20, 29f, 32, 197; Confucianism, 22 tangerine, 109 Tanimori text (of I M ) , vii, 190 Taoism, 18, 2if, 244 Tatsuta Crossing, 88, 213, 247-48 Tatsuta River, 58, 141 (173), 247 Tawarejima (Flirtation Island), 109, 227 Teika, see Fujiwara Teika Temples: Anjoji, i2if, 234; Great Western, 162; Shiga, 163, 259; Urin'in, i64f, 259; Kannondo, 237; Eastern (Toji), 259; Kazan, 259 Tempuku texts (of I M ) , vii, 187-88 Tenri Library, 188 Tenshi, Princess (Yasuko), see Ise Virgin Toba Palace, 251 Tokugawa (Edo) period ( 1 6 0 0 - 1 8 6 8 ) : scholars of national learning (\o\ugakusha), 3; on Narihira, 44ff; on IM texts, 63, 185-86, 239; IM texts in, 187, 190 Toshiyuki, see Fujiwara Toshiyuki Tokyo University, 186 Tsukishima Hiroshi, vii Tsukuma, Festival of (Pot Festival), 147, 253-54 Tsukushi, see Kyushu

General Index Tsurayuki, see Ki no Tsurayuki Tsurezuregusa (Essays in Idleness), 243 T u Fu, 29 Ubara, see Mubara Uji, Mt., 36 (162) Umetsubo (Plum Court), 147, 254 under-sash, loosening of, 95—96,144, 249 university, Nara-period, 28. See also individual universities by name Urin'in Temple, i64f, 259 Usa, 108, 226 uta monogatari ("stories about p o e m s " ) , 56 Utsu, Mt., 13 ( 7 5 ) , 204 wa\a (31-syllable "Japanese p o e m " ) , 15; decline, 26; resurgence, 30-34, 44, 60 wa\akusa (younggrass), 78, 103, 206, 222 Wakasa Province, 187 Waley, Arthur, 4 warblers, 148, 249, 254 warekara (caprella, a crustacean), 106, 113,225 warode (cushion), 130, 240 wasuregusa, see forgetting-grass watercourse bamboo (\awata\e), 155, 258 waterfalls: Furu-no-taki, 163; N u n o -

biki, 130-31 (180), 240 waves, 74, 118-19, 142, 146,160, 203, 249 Weaver Maid and the Herdsman, 19, 126, 137 ( i 7 5 ) , 226, 242. See also River of Heaven Wen hsiian (Literary Selections), 28f Western Palace, see Junna Palace Western Temple, Great, 162 wild goose, see goose, wild willows, 162 wisteria (/«//), 123, 138-39, 163 (172) Yamanoue, Okura, 54-55 Yamashina, 121, 234f Yamato, 84, 89 Yamato River, 247 yamatoe ("Japanese picture"), 30 Yamazaki, 124, 2$7 Yashiro Hirokata, 186, 191, 260—61 Yasuhide, see Bun'ya Yasuhide Yatsuhashi (Eight Bridges), 74-75 (173), 203 Yodo River, 237 Yoshifusa, see Fujiwara Yoshifusa Yoshimine Munesada, see Henjo, Archbishop Yoshitsune, see Fujiwara Yoshitsune; Minamoto Yoshitsune young grass, see wa\ak_usa young purple, see murasa\i Yukihira, see Ariwara Yukihira

277