空蝉の身をかへてける木のもとに
なほ人がらのなつかしきかな
なほ人がらのなつかしきかな
- Roma-ji
-
Utsusemi no mi o kaetekeru ki no moto ni
nao hitogara no natsukashiki kana - English Translation
-
At the tree's foot, where
the cicada changed its form
and left the shell there,
still the person that she was
draws me and stays dear to me
- Meaning
- At the foot of the tree where the cicada shed its shell and changed its form, the person she was still draws me and remains dear.
- Commentary
-
Part One: Utsusemi
Refused in the Hahakigi chapter, Genji could not put Utsusemi out of mind, and had her young brother Kogimi lead him to the house of the Governor of Kii. At dusk he looked in through a gap and saw her playing go with Nokiba no Ogi, her husband's daughter. When he made his way in that night, she sensed someone near, slipped out of her thin outer robe, and got away, leaving him to spend the night with Nokiba no Ogi, who had stayed where she was. The next morning he carried the discarded robe home, and holding it he spoke this poem. It was sent to Utsusemi through Kogimi, and she wept over it alone.
"Utsusemi" is the empty shell a cicada leaves, and it serves as this lady's name. "Changed its form" is the cicada shedding its shell, and it names exactly what she did in slipping away and leaving only a robe. "The foot of the tree" is both the place where the shell remains and the place she has left behind. He offers no reproach, only his feeling for the person herself as he holds what she left, and his inability to let go after being refused takes shape in that. From this poem the chapter takes its name.
- Author
- Murasaki Shikibu
- Source
- Genji Monogatari
- Other
-
- Not knowing the heart of the broom tree that fades out, I have lost my way along Sonohara's road, wandering there for nothing
- Bearing the sad name of what grows at Fuseya, a house of no count, the broom tree fades and goes out, scarcely there at all to see
- Like the dew that lies on a cicada's thin wing, hidden by the tree, secretly and secretly these sleeves of mine are wetted
- Guessing at a glance, I take it to be that one— the evening flower on which the white dew has laid a light that it did not have