Showing posts with label last day of spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label last day of spring. Show all posts

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Today's post is actually from a paper I wrote in graduate school about the Kin'yo wakashu and Minamoto Toshiyori.  I've included the introduction and the first three spring poems (the first three poems of the anthology).


Compiled by Minamoto Toshiyori (源俊頼) at the behest of Retired Emperor Shirakawa, the Kin'yô wakashû is designed to be an intentional departure from the typical imperial anthology, varying in both structure and aesthetics. As Toshiyori is one of the few non-Fujiwara editors of the chokusenshuû, it is clear that Shirakawa chose him as much for politcal reason (to help break the hold on power that the Fujiwara had) as for poetic reasons. Comprised not of the typical twenty-two books, but of ten, the compilation includes the following books: spring, summer, autumn, winter, congratulatory poems, poems of separation, two books of love poetry, a book of miscellaneous poetry, and a book of both miscellaneous and travel poetry. One of the major difficulties in studying this collection, however, is the three textual lines: Toshiyori submitted three different drafts before Shirakawa accepted one, but it is the second, not the third, that is generally recognized as the definitive Kin'yô wakashû.1 In any case, the Kin'yô wakashû is the shortest of all imperial anthologies.
As Donald Keene mentioned in Seeds in the Heart, this collection is interesting in the editor's approach to both poetics and the compilation of the Kin'yô wakashû. Minamoto Toshiyori was considered a radical in his time, and his radicalism can be seen in the selection of poetry for the anthology. The most striking aspects are Toshiyori's emphasis on contemporary poets and his appreciation for rustic and natural imagery over more emotional poetry. However, as Keene also points out, Toshiyori was also original in his use of waka to express “grievances”, going so far as to include a headnote indicating his bitterness over “not having obtained office until the age of seventy”.
As the collection does not contain a preface, it is difficult to guess what, exactly, Toshiyori's intentions were in the compilation process. However, as poems by Toshiyori himself are the greatest in number (thirty-seven poems out of about six-hundred fifty total), and as Toshiyori was the sole compiler, we can assume that his poetic vision and aesthetics were the primary factor, despite requiring Retired Emperor Shirakawa's final decision for approval.
Minamoto Toshiyori (sometimes read as Shunrai), despite maintaining a low standing in terms of court rank, was somewhat of a revolutionary in terms of poetics. He had no problem with poems dealing with “vulgar” topics, going so far as to include poems riff with 'vulgarities' in a collection submitted to Emperor Horikawa2, included below:
Is it because
To be love's coolie has become
A habit I am stuck with
That even on a journey it wells up,
This day's-end clatter banging in my breast?

This poem was obviously startling for a courtly audience, where elegence was the rule, as it deals so directly and coarsely with “relations”.
However, Toshiyori was not limited to vulgarities, or he surely would not have been selected to compile the collection by Retired Emperor Shirakawa. Looking at his own poems he chose to include in the selection, we can see a powerful ability to provoke emotion with concrete images. Turning to poem 51 of the Kin'yô wakashû, we can see an elegent demonstration of Toshiyori's descriptive abilities:
Even though the wind blows in the treetops, it can't be seen; the lucious
beauty of sakura flowers: the wind has become clear

In this poem, Toshiyori creates a unique spring poem—while it is a common trope to mistake sakura flowers for other things, such as clouds, here he's taken that trope and inverted it, by using sakura as an illuminating image. Though we cannot “see” the sakura, their scent allows us to detect the wind with our other senses. In a way, this poem is creating a new way of looking at the world—while our eyes may fail us, if we use our various senses thoughtfully, we can find a way to approach things difficult to “see”.
Despite being the shortest imperial anthology, the Kin'yô wakashû is of great importance, as Toshiyori's asthetic vision has a great influential power on what eventually becomes the dominate vision of Japanese poetics in the the following eras. While Retired Emperor Shirakawa was not himself an complete advocate of Toshiyori's renegade style, he was lucky in his selection of Toshiyori, as his name is now forever associated with one of the most influential anthologies of Japanese poetry.
1Keene, pg 307
2Brower and Miner, pg 244






初春の心をよめる
吉野山峰の白雪いつ消えてけさは霞の立ち替わるらん
yoshino yama mine no shirayuki itsu kiete kesa ha kasumi no tachikawaruran
源重之

Composed on the appearance of the first day of spring
The white snow of the summit of Mount Yoshino—when will it vanish?
and when will the first spring morning mist swell with magic?
Minamoto no Shigeyuki (????-1000)
堀川院御時、百首の歌召しけるに、元日の心をつかうまつれる
うちなびき1春は来にけり山川の岩間の氷けふや解くらん
uchi nabiki haru ha kinikeri yamakawa no iha ma no tsurara kefu ya tokuran
修理大夫顕季

Composed on the heart of moved by New Years day, upon reading the Hundred Poem collection from the reign of Retired Emperor Horikawa
The plants' branches have grown long, spring has come; the mountain rivers are yet
frozen between the rocks, but will they, perhaps, thaw today
Official In Charge of Palace Repairs Fujiwara no Akisue (1055-1113)
四年内裏の歌合によめる
倉橋2の山の****より春霞年を積みてや立ち渡るらん
kurahashi no yama no kahi yori haru kasumi toshi wo tsumite ya tachi waruran
中納言朝忠

Composed at the Emperor's palace at the poetry meet of the fourth year of Tentoku
From within the narrows of Yamato's mountains, the spring mists seem to
accumulate the years, swell, and spill out over the land
Middle Counsellor Fujiwara no Asatada (910-966)
ふろさとは春めきにけりみ吉野の御垣の原も霞こめたり
furusato ha haru mekinikeri miyoshino no mikaki no hara mo kasumi kometari
平兼盛

Same as previous poem
Since the ancient times treasured Yoshino that seemed like spring
even the Imperial villa filled with mist
Taira no Kanemori (????-990)
あさみどり3霞めるそらのけしきにや常盤の山は春を知るらん
asa midori kasameru sora no keshiki ni ya tokiha no yama ha haru wo shiruran
少将公教母
Same as previous poem
From the hue of the pale green of the misty sky about the mountains,
who live eternally, cannot one see that spring draws nigh?
Major General Kinnori's mother4 (????-????)
年毎に変らぬものは春霞立田の山のけしきなりけり
toshigoto ni kaharanu mono ha harugasumi tatsuta no yama no keshikinarikeri
藤原顕輔朝臣

Same as previous poem
Each and every year, completely without fail, the spring mists do swell,
seeming to have risen up around Tatsuta Mountain
Courtier Fujiwara no Akisuke (1090-1155)
正月朔に雪の降り侍りけるを見て遣はしける
あらたまの年の初めに降り敷けば初雪とこそいふべかるらん
aratama no toshi no hajime ni furishikeba hatsu yuki to koso ifu bekaruran
修理大夫顕季

On honorably watching the snow fall in the first month of the year
As it is falling all about at the beginning of the new year
is it not right for us to call it the “the first snow”?
Official In Charge of Palace Repairs Fujiwara no Akisue (1055-1113)
返し
朝戸開けて春の梢の雪見れば初花ともやいふべかるらん
asa to akete haru no kozue no yuki mireba hatsu hana tomo ya ifu bekaruran
春宮大夫公実

Reply
Upon opening the door in the morning and seeing spring treetops
covered in snow could not one say, “Indeed! The first flowers!”
Steward to the Crown Prince Fujiwara Kinzane (1043-1107)
1A makurakotoba for spring
2A makurakotoba for the first state of Japan (Yamato)
3A makurakotoba for mist
4The Kin'yô wakashû is the only anthology to contain her work

Monday, May 11, 2009

Mist lingering about Heavenly Kagu Mountain

Today we'll be continuing with the Shinkokin wakashuu (新古今和歌集) and moving on to the very next poem: poem 2 in the book of spring poems.

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春のはじめの歌
haru no hajime no uta
ほのぼのと春こそ空にきにけらし天の香久山かすみたなびく
honobono to haru koso sora ni kinikerashi ama no ama no Kaguyama kasumi tanabiku
太上天皇
Daijou tennou

A verse on the beginning of spring

Faintly, in the dawn, / spring has arrived from the sky / and from the peak of / Heavenly Kagu Mountain / mist descends, hangs in the air

Retired Emperor Gotoba

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Taken from the personal collection of waka by Retired Emperor Gotoba (who ordered the compilation of the Shinkokin wakashuu after abdicating the throne [from The Princeton Companion to Classical Japanese Literature]), this poem paints a beautiful image of the beginning of spring. It also suggests the image of spring (embodied in the mist) descending from the heavens and slowly settling over the land as a gift from the deities to the Japanese people. (And, for me at least, brings to mind the Man'youshuu poem of the Emperor surveying the land to bring good fortune to his people in the coming year.)

This poem contains some interesting rhetorical language that I would like to look at. In addition to its beautiful images, this poem contains an allusion a Man'youshuu poem which I have quickly translated as: "It seems certain that / spring will come flowing in on / this night as fine mist / lingering about ancient / Heavenly Kagu Mountain." (As I don't have a copy of the Man'youshuu with me right now, I'm offering this an approximation of the meaning only.) I would also like to explain my use of "mist descends, lingers in the air". かすみたなびく (kasumi tanabiku) literally means "mist hangs/lingers in the air". However, the editors have pointed out that 天の (ama no; "heavenly"), coupled with 空にきにけらし (sora ni kinikerashi; "came from the sky") has a nuance of mist falling from towering heavens.

Yesterday, I mentioned some differences between the Shinkokin wakashuu and the Kokin wakashuu in terms of poetic thought. Today, I'd like to discuss Retired Emperor Gotoba's role in the compilation of the Shinkokin wakashuu. He reigned as emperor from 1183 to 1198 (the beginning of the Kamakura period, which directly follows the Heian period) until he abdicated to have more political power. At the time, the power of the Imperial Court was in decline and the power of the military leaders was rising. (If you'd like to read more about the rise of the military powers in the period, I would recommend Karl F. Friday's Samurai, Warfare and the State in Early Medieval Japan.) However, there was an even older trend whereby the Fujiwara regents ("advisors") to the emperor had essentially taken control of power by putting younger and younger emperors on the thrown and then forcing them to abdicate before they grew old enough to develop any power of their own. As such, many retired emperors eventually realized what they had missed out on and began attempting to consolidate power in their homes outside the capital. While this more an issue of political history than of poetry, I mention it to give you an idea of the type of man Retired Emperor Gotoba was. In addition to spending much of his life struggling for political power, he was also very dedicated to the arts--hence his command to compile the Shinkokin wakashuu. While he was characterized as being strong headed (and arguing with Fujiwara Teika, chief comiler of the anthology), his poetry, as we've seen today, had an incredible beauty to it.

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I hope you've enjoyed today's poem! I'll be back on Wednesday with more poetry from the Shinkokin wakashuu!

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Of rain soaked flowers and...

Poem 133 of the Kokin wakashuu, from the last book of Spring poems.

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弥生のつごもりの日、雨の降りけるに、藤の花を折りて人につかはしける
yayohi no tsugomori no hi, ame no furikeru ni, fudi no hana wo worite hi ni tukaha shikeru
濡れつつぞしひて折りつる年の内に春はいくかもあらじと思へば
nuretsutsu zo shihite woritsuru toshi no uchi ni haru ha ikukamo araji to omoheba
在原業平
Ariwara Narihira

On the last day of the 3rd month, attached to broken off wisteria flowers soaked with rain

The flowers are soaked / and have been torn asunder / as I'm wondering / how many days of spring yet / linger this year, I think of...

Ariwara Narihira

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There are two aspects of Narihira's poem I'd like to talk about today: the first is the metaphorical meaning of the poem and the other is the classical Japanese calendar and the seasons.

Let's start with the poem itself. It's grammar is pretty straightforward, as is the vocabulary. The metaphorical implications of the poem lie in it's unfinished thought. The poem ends with the verb 思へば (omoheba) which is conjugated such that ba can be affixed. The peculiar aspect of this conjugation is that ba, in classical Japanese (and similar to that of contemporary Japanese), can indicate causation, temporal condition, contrast, or although. Obviously, something is supposed to come after the clause. Clearly, the thought is not finished--something is left unsaid, which leads us to the metaphorical implication of the poem. In wondering how many days of spring are left in the year, Narihira is also wondering how many springs he has yet to see. (The editors of the volume even go so far as to suggest that he is wondering how many happy springs of youth he has left.) In my translation, I've tried to leave the thought unfinished as in the original, but I felt it necessary to add an additional clause to the end ("I think of..."). In the Japanese, the ba clearly indicates an strong relationship between the remaining days of spring and the unfinished thought. As such, I wanted to lead the reader down a similar train of thought, without spelling anything out too explicitly.

There are some more interesting aspects of the poem, but first we need to talk about the classical Japanese calendar. As noted in The Princeton Companion to Classical Japanese Literature, like an number of older civilizations, the Japanese calendar was lunar with months of 29 or 30 days and the occasional extra month added to keep the calendar in place with the actual time of year. So when we read in the head note that the poem was written in the third month, it does not necessarily mean March. Additionally, each month had an animal associated with it, as with the Chinese zodiac. Of greater interest for this poem is the seasons: the first through the third months were spring, regardless of the amount of snow on the ground. Additionally, as the editors note, it's a bit odd to ask how many days of spring are left on the last day of the third month as it's also the last day of spring. They suggest that it could be Narihira's way of complaining about his declining fortunes, due to some complications with court politics, but that's not exactly clear. (One interesting bit of evidence they supply is his mention of the wisteria [藤] which is read as fudi or fuji like that of the Fujiwara family [藤原], to whom he had requested a promotion.)

Thus, Narihira is wondering about the future of himself and spring. He is also, simultaneously, indicating their decline--like that of the wisteria flowers overwhelmed and broken by the heavy rains that accompany the end of spring.

Ariwara Narihira is the famed poet of Ise monogatari, as well as being one of the six poetic geniuses (rokkasen) named in the Kana Preface of the Kokin wakashuu by Ki no Tsurayuki. He is famed for both his poetry and his romantic exploits--including the alleged "conquest" of the high priestess of Ise. The Princeton Companion indicates that he was born in 825 and died in 880.

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Sorry this post is a day late! It's Golden Week in Japan, and I've been a little off. I should be back tomorrow with another poem, this time from a new collection!