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notshonagon · 2 years
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A long time ago, what was a man thinking, when he composed this?
Thoughts, better left unsaid for there is truly no one thinking like myself.
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notshonagon · 2 years
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Kaguya-hime said, ‘All I can think is that I should certainly regret it if, in spite of my unattractive looks, I married someone without being sure of the depth of his feelings, and he then proved to be fickle. However grand a person he may be, I should not wish to marry him unless I were sure he was sincere.’
The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter (竹取物語 Taketori monogatari; around 9th century)
Translated by Donald Keene, published in Monumenta Nipponica, Vol. 11, No. 4 (January 1956), 329–355.
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Taketori monogatari is the oldest extant Japanese prose narrative, mentioned in Murasaki Shikibu’s The Tale of Genji (源氏物語 Genji monogatari, early 11th century) as “The ancestor of all monogatari”.
Donald Keene’s translation dates to 1956 and is not among his best works. It has never been revised either, leaving much to be desired. Nevertheless, this remains more truthful to the original story than any modern adaptation, usually labeled as something about Kaguyahime かぐや姫 rather than the bamboo cutter (竹取 Taketori), whose human heart in the light of otherworldly emotionless beauty of Kaguya and her gradual gaining of human emotion is the focus of the original.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Rustling in the wind Oak trees over Nara stream at nightfall ritual purifications are indeed the signs of summer lingering.
Hyakunin Isshu 98: Fujiwara no Ietaka (as always, read more about the poem by following the link in the notes below)
風そよぐ楢の小川の夕暮れは御禊ぞ夏のしるしなりける kaze soyogu / Nara no ogawa no / yūgure wa / misogi zo natsu no / shirushi narikeru
Of a summer that came and went / for one last nigh / a sign at least / remained.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Gyokuyōshū (Collection of Jeweled Leaves): poem 2600
Meeting at long last,
on the eighth month of autumn,
on the twentieth day,
even still, grieving for one unseen,
sleeves are wet with tears.
− Tamesuke 為相
めぐりあふ秋のはつきのはつかにも見ぬ世をとへば袖ぞ露けきmeguriau / aki no hatsuki no / hatsuka ni mo / munu yo wo toeba / sode zo tsuyukeki
More:
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Summer night still early has dawned, but has the moon come to reside somewhere in the clouds?
Hyakunin Isshu 36: Kiyohara no Fukayabu (as always, read more about the poem by following the link in the notes below)
夏の夜はまだ宵ながら明けぬるを雲のいづこに月宿るらむ natsu no yo wa / mada yoi nagara / akenuru wo / kumo no izuko ni / tsuki yadoru ran
It has been a long while. This and that has happened and things followed one after another,
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Time passed. But time flows in many streams. Live a river, an inner stream of time will flow rapidly at some places and sluggishly at others, or perhaps even stand hopelessly stagnant. Cosmic time is the same for everyone, but human time differs with each person. Time flows in the same way for all human beings; every human being flows through time in a different way.
― Yasunari Kawabata, Beauty and Sadness (美しさと哀しみと Utsukushisa to kanashimi to) Translated by Howard S. Hibbett
Something closer to this day. Something just as beautiful.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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In the sunlight of serene spring day why do flowers scatter, their hearts without peace.
Hyakunin Isshu 33: Ki no Tomonori (as always, you can read more about the poem by following the link in the notes below)
ひさかたの光のどけき春の日にしづ心なく花の散るらむ Hisakata no / hikari nodokeki / haru no hi ni / shizu-gokoro naku / hana no chiruran
As spring comes to an end and the very last of spring blossoms fall, a poem to reflect on the many springs is quite in order. 
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Hyakunin Isshu Day
Today is Ogura Hyakunin Isshu day. But why is it? And why it probably shouldn’t be?
Let’s explore this.
The dating of poetry anthology Ogura Hyakunin Isshu on the 27th day of the Fifth (Lunar) Month of 1235 comes from Fujiwara no Teika’s (1162–1241) entry in his diary, now called Meigetsuki. The entry notes that Utsunomiya Yoritsuna (1172–1259) had asked Teika to write poem cartouches for his Chūin villa in Saga, near Mount Ogura. 
Although not exactly proud of his handwriting, Teika wrote down one poem of each poet, from Emperor Tenji (626–671) of old to his own contemporaries Fujiwara no Ietaka (1158–1237) and Asukai Masatsune (1170–1221), and sent the cartouches to Yoritsuna.
Neither does Teika state that he wrote down a hundred poems, nor does he write of a poetry anthology. Fact is that Teika only talks about a collection of poem cartouches for Yoritsuna’s villa.
Did the poems he had sent out to Yoritsuna end up in Ogura Hyakunin Isshu? And who wrote them down as a poetry anthology, not a collection of poem cartouches? The truth is that we do not know. But with lack of any other, more concrete evidence from Teika’s own time, the diary fragment has come to be interpreted as speaking of Ogura Hyakunin Isshu.
Does it actually speak of the poems that ended up as Ogura Hyakunin Isshu? If someone was to ask me, I would say: “Largely? Yes. Entirely? No.”
But why so? Follow the link in the notes below or simply visit onethousandsummers.blogspot.com.
I sat down, translated the Meigetsuki passage in question and jotted down a few points to consider when trying to link it to the Hyakunin Isshu. 
If you enjoy this and would like to read more of my literary history detective work, let me know.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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From the ancient capital of Nara eight-fold cherries, − today, inside the nine-fold palace bloom in the most beautiful of colours!
Hyakunin Isshu 61: Ise no Tayū (Ise no Taifu / Ise no Ōsuke) (as always, you can read more about the poem by following the link in the notes below)
いにしへの奈良の都の八重桜けふ九重に匂ひぬるかな inishie no / Nara no miyako no / yaezakura / kyō kokonoe ni / nioinuru kana
Even ladies-in-waiting at the Japanese imperial court a thousand years ago had examinations. The poem above was written when Ise no Tayū had an impromptu examination as a newcomer.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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I will not forget you, − you say; to the end of time this will be hard to maintain, so I wish for my life to be one, which ends on this very day.
Hyakunin Isshu 54: Mother of the Honorary Grand Minister (as always, link to the poem analysis is in the notes below)
忘れじの行く末まではかたければ今日を限りの命ともがなWasureji no / yuku sue made wa / katakereba / kyō wo kagiri no / inochi to mogana
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Shinshūishū: poem 95 (Fujiwara no Teika・kasumi tatsu...)
Former Middle Counselor Teika, one of fifty poems on flowers at the house of Gokyōgoku Regent
Enshrouded in mists cherries on the peaks at dayspring tie-dyed waves in the river of heaven in red.
かすみたつ峯の桜の朝ぼらけ紅くくるあまのかはなみ Kasumi tatsu / mine no sakura no / asaborake / kurenai kukuru / ama no kawanami
Translated by @notshonagon.
Hyakunin Isshu, Chihayafuru, Narihira, and this spring poem of Teika’s. All of it tied together in the fourth line − kurenai kukuru (tie-dyed in red), and serving as a reminder that the world of waka is way broader than one may initially think. 
See more detailed notes on the poem in the link below.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Colour of the flowers has faded in vain my time has gone, while I was gazing deep in thought, as long rains kept falling
Hyakunin Isshu 9: Ono no Komachi (as always, link to the poem analysis is in the notes below)
花の色はうつりにけりないたづらにわが身世にふるながめせしまに hana no iro wa / utsurinikeri na / itazura ni / wa ga mi yo ni furu / nagame seshi ma ni
Like colour of the flowers in long spring rains fading, so my beauty too has faded; my time has gone while gazing deep in thought, perhaps for you I was waiting, but those rains kept you away.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Enshrouded in mists trees come into bud, for spring snow falls, flowers scatter even in villages where no flower yet blooms.
Ki no Tsurayuki 紀貫之 (866 or 872–945?)
Kokinshū 古今集 (Collection of Poems Ancient and Modern; 905): poem 9, composed on snow falling.
Translated by the blog author.
霞たち 木の芽もはるの 雪降れば 花なき里も 花ぞ散りける Kasumi tachi / ki no me mo haru no / yuki fureba / hana naki sato mo / hana zo chirikeru
UPDATE (March 23, '21): see the link in the notes below for my Hyakunin Isshu poem-analysis-like write-up on this poem. ❄️🌸🙂
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notshonagon · 3 years
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The human heart − I do not grasp, but in my old home flowers fill the air with scent like in the days long gone.
Hyakunin Isshu 35: Ki no Tsurayuki (as always, link to the poem analysis is in the notes below)
人はいさ 心も知らず ふるさとは 花ぞ昔の 香ににほひける Hito wa isa / kokoro mo shirazu / furusato wa / hana zo mukashi no / ka ni nioikeru
Even if I came back after a long while, at least the flowers in my old home would still smell the same...  Sorry for a long absence. I really needed some time off.
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Even if the flowers bloom with their hearts unchanging, I want you to understand the heart of one who planted them.
Tsurayuki Shū 貫之集 (Collected Poems of Tsurayuki), Shōho 正保 era (1644–1648) edition.
Henka 返歌 (reply poem) to a composition by Ki no Tsurayuki 紀貫之 when he visited a house he always stayed at when traveling to Hatsuse 初瀬.
Translated by the blog author.
花だにも おなじ心に 咲くものを 植ゑたる人の 心知らなむ hana dani mo / onaji kokoro ni / saku mono wo / uetaru hito no / kokoro shiranamu
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notshonagon · 3 years
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Presently, the boat passed the Uda pine woods. It was impossible to imagine how many trees might be standing there, or how many thousands of years they might have lived. The waves came up to their roots, and cranes flew back and forth among the branches.
Ki no Tsurayuki 紀貫之, Tosa Nikki 土佐日記 (The Tosa Diary)
“[i Ninth Day]” (Ninth Day of the First Month)
Translated by Helen Craig McCullough in Kokin Wakashū: The First Imperial Anthology of Japanese Poetry: With ‘Tosa Nikki’ and ‘Shinsen Waka’. 
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notshonagon · 3 years
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The Naniwazu poem
I was thinking of a way to celebrate the coming of spring, and no flower is more fitting than the plum [Japanese apricot, actually] blossom, no poem is more appropriate than the naniwazu poem, which opens every karuta game.
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難波津に咲くやこの花冬ごもり今は春べと咲くやこの花
Naniwazu ni / saku ya ko no hana / fuyugomori / ima wa harube to / saku ya ko no hana
In Naniwa Bay, the trees are abloom!   Dormant through winter, now it is spring and these flowers blossom!
(For poem commentary and translation of a short related extract from the Japanese Preface of Kokinshū (the first imperial collection of Japanese poetry), please see the link in Notes below.)
Also please note that I translated the Kokinshū Kanajo (Japanese Preface) version, where the fourth line is ima wa harube to. My translations are a mere supplement for those interested in the poetry in Chihayafuru and are therefore not meant to replace translations by any other translators.
And here it would be a shame to overlook the beautiful scene of Kuzuryū Yōko evoking plum blossoms with her reading in chapter 227 of Chihayafuru. As opposed to Yamashiro Kyōko, whose reading carries the image of elegant, light pink cherry blossoms, Kuzuryū brings the image of the plum – the first tree to persevere through the the cold and blossom very early in spring, with rich pink flowers on strong, picturesque branches, often still covered by snow.
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