I am the waves that crash
upon your impervious rock.
Though my heart shatters,
my love rages yet.
49. Onakatomi no Yoshinobu
This troubled heart of mine
is like the watch fire of the guards
of the palace gate –
it fades to embers by day,
but blazes up again each night.
50. Fujiwara no Yoshitaka
I thought I would give up my life
to hold you in my arms,
but after a night together,
I find myself wishing
that I could live for ever.
51. Fujiwara no Sanekata
Because my feelings
are too great to put into words,
my heart blazes like the moxa
of Mount Ibuki,
with a love you cannot know.
52. Fujiwara no Michinobu
Though the sun has risen,
I know I can see you again
when it sets at dusk.
Yet even so, how I hate
this cold light of dawn.
53. Mother of Michitsuna
Someone like you
may never know
how long a night can be,
spent pining for a loved one
till it breaks at dawn.
54. Mother of Honorary Grand Minister
You promise you’ll never forget,
but to the end of time
is too long to ask.
So let me die today –
still loved by you.
55. Fujiwara no Kinto
The waterfall
dried up
in the distant past
and makes
not a sound,
but its fame
flows on
and on –
and echoes
still
today.
56. Izumi Shikibu
As I will soon be gone,
let me take one last memory
of this world with me –
may I see you once more,
may I see you now?
57. Murasaki Shikibu
Just like the moon,
you had come and gone
before I knew it.
Were you, too, hiding
among the midnight clouds?
58. Daini no Sanmi
Blown down from Mount Arima
through Ina’s low bamboo
the wind whispers,
‘I swear of my love –
how could I forget you?’
59. Akazome Emon
I should have gone to sleep
but, thinking you would come,
I watched the moon
throughout the night
till it sank before the dawn.
60. Koshikibu no Naishi
No letter’s come from my mother,
nor have I sought help with this poem,
crossing Mount Oe,
taking the Ikuno Road to her home
beyond the Bridge to Heaven.
61. Ise no Taifu
The eightfold cherry blossoms
from Nara’s ancient capital
bloom afresh today
in the new capital
of the nine splendid gates.
62. Sei Shonagon
Wishing to leave while still night,
you crow like a cock pretending it is dawn.
As I will never meet you again,
may the guards of the Meeting Hill
for ever block your passage through.
63. Fujiwara no Michimasa
Rather than hearing it from others,
somehow I want to find a way
to tell you myself,
just one thing –
‘Now I must give you up!’
64. Fujiwara no Sadayori
As the dawn mist
thins in patches
on the Uji River,
in the shallows appear
glistening stakes of fishing nets.
65. Sagami
Even my sleeves may rot
from bitter tears that never dry,
but worse than that
is the tainting of my name
by this bitter love.
66. Prelate Gyoson
Mountain Cherry,
let us console each other.
Of all those I know
no one understands me
the way your blossoms do.
67. Suo no Naishi
I would regret losing my good name
for laying my head upon your arm
offered as a pillow
for a moment as fleeting
as a spring night’s dream.
68. Retired Emperor Sanjo
Though against my wishes,
I must live on in this world of pain.
But when I look back
I will surely recall you fondly,
Dear Moon of this darkest night.
69. Priest Noin
Blown by storm winds,
Mount Mimuro’s
autumn leaves have become
the River Tatsuta’s
richly hued brocade.
70. Priest Ryozen
With a lonely heart,
I step outside my hut
and look around.
Everywhere’s the same –
autumn at dusk.
71. Minamoto no Tsunenobu
As evening draws near
in the field before the gate
the autumn wind visits,
rustling through the ears of rice,
then the eaves of my reed hut.
72. Lady Kii
I stay well away
from the famed Takashi shore,
where the waves, like you, are treacherous.
I know if I get too close to either,
my sleeves will end up wet.
73. Oe no Masafusa
How lovely the cherry blossoms
blooming high
on the peaks of Takasago.
May the mists in the foothills
not rise to block the view.
74. Minamoto no Toshiyori
I pleaded with the Goddess of Mercy
for help with she who was cold to me
but, like the wild winds of Hatsuse,
she became fiercer still.
It is not what I prayed for.
75. Fujiwara no Mototoshi
I believed in you with all my heart
but again this autumn passed,
but vanishing dewdrops
of the mugwort blessing!
76. Fujiwara no Tadamichi
Rowing out on the vast ocean,
when I look all around
I cannot tell apart
white billows in the offing
from the far-off clouds.
77. Retired Emperor Sutoku
Like water rushing down
the river rapids,
we may be parted
by a rock, but in the end
we will be one again.
78. Minamoto no Kanemasa
Barrier Guard of Suma,
how many nights
have you been wakened
by the lamenting plovers
returning from Awaji?
79. Fujiwara no Akisuke
Autumn breezes blow
long trailing clouds.
Through a break,
the moonlight –
so clear, so bright.
80. Taikenmon-in no Horikawa
After you left this morning
my raven locks were full of tangles,
and now – not knowing
if you will always be true –
my heart is filled with tangles, too.
81. Fujiwara no Sanesada
I look out to where
the little cuckoo called,
but all that is left to
see
is the pale moon
in the sky of dawn.
82. Priest Doin
I somehow live on,
enduring this harsh love,
yet my tears –
unable to bear their pain –
cannot help but flow.
83. Fujiwara no Shunzei
There’s no escape in this sad world.
With a melancholy heart
I enter deep in the mountains,
but even here I hear
the plaintive belling of the stag.
84. Fujiwara no Kiyosuke
Since I now recall fondly
the painful days of the past,
if I live long, I may look back
on these harsh days, too,
and find them sweet and good.
85. Priest Shun’e
I spent the night in longing
but the day would not break
and even gaps in the shutters
were too cruel
to let in a sliver of light.
86. Priest Saigyo
It is not you, Dear Moon,
who bids me grieve
but when I look at your face
I am reminded of my love –
and tears begin to fall.
87. Priest Jakuren
The sudden shower
has not yet dried.
From the leaves of black pines,
wisps of fog rise
in the autumn dusk.
88. Kokamon-in no Betto
For the sake of one night
on Naniwa Bay,
short as the nodes
of a root-cut reed,
must I love you with all my heart?
89. Princess Shokushi
Should I live longer
I could not bear this secret love.
since you must break –
let it be now.
90. Inpumon-in no Taifu
How I would like to show you –
the fishermen’s sleeves of Ojima
are drenched, but even so
have not lost their colour,
as mine have, bathed in endless tears.
91. Fujiwara no Ryokei
The crickets cry
on this frosty night
as I spread my robe for one
on the cold straw mat
where I shall sleep alone.
92. Lady Sanuki
My tear-soaked sleeves
are like rocks in the offing.
Even at low tide
you never notice them,
nor can they ever dry.
93. Minamoto no Sanetomo
That such moving sights
would never change –
fishermen rowing
their small boats,
pulling them on to shore.
94. Fujiwara no Masatsune
A cold mountain wind blows down
on the old capital of Yoshino,
and as the autumn night deepens
I can hear the chilly pounding
of cloth being fulled.
95. Former High Prelate Jien
Though I am not good enough,
for the good of the people,
here in these wooded hills,
I’ll embrace them in my black robes
of the Buddha’s Way.
96. Fujiwara no Kintsune
As if lured by the storm
the blossoms are strewn about,
white upon the garden floor,
yet all this whiteness is not snow −
it is me who withers and grows old.
97. Fujiwara no Teika
Pining for you,
who do not come,
I am like the salt-making fires
at dusk on the Bay of Waiting –
burning bitterly in flames of love.
98. Fujiwara no Ietaka
A twilight breeze rustles
through the oak leaves
of the little Oak Brook,
but the cleansing rites
tell us it is still summer.
99. Retired Emperor Gotoba
Though it is futile to ponder
the ways of the world,
I am lost in desolate musing –
I have loved some and hated others,
even hated the ones I love.
100. Retired Emperor Juntoku
Memory ferns sprout in the eaves
of the old forsaken palace.
But however much I yearn for it,
I can never bring back
that glorious reign of old.
Commentary
In the main body of the translation, the poems are provided without any contextual information. As the Introduction explains (here), Teika is thought to have first selected the poems for decoration on the walls of the country residence of his son’s father-in-law, Utsunomiya Rensho. An entry in his diary records that he sent a hundred poems to Rensho for his house and these are thought to be more or less the same as the poems that became the One Hundred Poems. At that time Teika excised the headnotes (kotobagaki) that originally accompanied the poems in the sources from which they were taken. In other words, Teika presented the poems context-free with no information except the name of the author. The original headnotes describe the circumstances in which the poems were written or merely give the topic (dai) on which they were composed; some are short but some give long, detailed accounts – sometimes fictional – describing the background of the composition of the poem.
I have also presented the poems context-free, with no information except the name of the author, so that the reader can encounter them without encumbrances. However, I have included pertinent information from the original headnotes in the Commentary. Although the original headnotes were not always verifiably correct, they do provide interesting details on context that reflect the reception of the poems in the One Hundred Poets up to and after Teika’s time. I hope the annotations that follow, which also include information on the translation techniques employed, short biographies of the poets and other details, will make the reader’s encounter with the text more informed and pleasurable.
As a general point, it should be noted that while the poems were composed at various stages of their authors’ lives, the poets are all known by their posthumous names, as in the original collection. Thus although poem 100 was written while the emperor was still reigning, he is known by his posthumous name, Retired Emperor Juntoku. And although poem 95 was composed by Jien when still a young man, he is known by the later title of Former High Prelate Jien. When the names of women poets are not known, they are often referred to as the ‘mother’ or ‘daughter’ of someone, such as ‘Mother of Michitsuna’ (poem 53). Even where the name of a woman poet was known, she might be referred to in this way, such as ‘Mother of Honorary Grand Minister’ (poem 54), rather than by her actual name, Takashina no Takako.
In the Commentary, full names of historical figures follow the Japanese order of family name followed by forename, with just the forename (rather than the surname) being used otherwise, as in ‘[Fujiwara no] Teika’. Words and phrases highlighted in bold constitute a reference to the Glossary, where further information may be found on literary terms and conventions and major works of classical Japanese literature that crop up repeatedly in the annotations that follow. The periods of Japanese history referred to are: Nara (710–94); Heian (794–1185); Kamakura (1185–1333); Edo (1603–1868); and Meiji (1868–1912).
1
The collection opens and closes with poems by emperors, reflecting Teika’s emphasis on the connection between the imperial institution and poetry. (See the Introduction, here, for more on this.) The gentle first poem, about the dew moistening the poet’s sleeves in a simple hut, sets the tone for the entire collection. In classical Japanese poetry, wet sleeves are typically associated with tears, usually of despair over an unhappy love relationship. Like the majority of medieval commentators, howev
er, Teika seems to have read the poem as a political allegory in which the wise and caring sovereign, Emperor Tenji, expresses his sympathy for the hardships of his people, symbolized by the ruined state of the hut. This is also the traditional reading of the poem, one that would have resonated most with its original audience, and hence is the version given in the main translation. A stronger, more nuanced reading would be to interpret it as a love poem, in which case it might be rendered:
In this makeshift hut
in the autumn field
gaps in the thatch let dewdrops in,
but it is not dew alone
that moistens my sleeves …
This reading is advocated, among others, by the eminent Man’yōshū scholar Susumu Nakanishi (in Nakanishi Susumu to aruku Hyakunin isshu no Kyoto (Kyoto: Kyoto Shinbun, 2007), pp. 7–11). Emperor Tenji is said to have been involved in a heated love triangle with his brother Prince Oama – the future Emperor Tenmu (r. 673–86) – over the love of Princess Nukata, a famed beauty and poet, but no historical evidence supports this.