This sedge of no worth—
by what thread of destiny
was it ever set
to put its roots down and stay
here in the mire, in this grief?
- Meaning
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I who count for nothing—by what thread was I ever fated to put down roots and stay, like sedge in the mire, in a world so full of grief?
- Commentary
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Part One: Tamakazura
Ukon withdrew from Genji's presence and carried the letter herself, adding what he had said. There were many gifts—robes for the girl, cloth for her women—and the pieces chosen after consulting Murasaki looked all the more remarkable to eyes grown used to the provinces. The girl herself thought that a word from her true parent, however slight, would have made her glad, and how could she go among strangers; but Ukon instructed her in how to conduct herself, and the women consoled her: once she was established the Minister would come to know of her, for a bond of parent and child does not simply end. Urged at least to reply, ashamed that her hand must look provincial, she wrote this faintly on Chinese paper.
"Kazu naranu" is: not counted among people, of no account—a term of self-deprecation. In "mikuri," the sedge, "mi" plays on "body"; "uki" plays on wretchedness and on the mud in which the plant roots. She takes his "sedge" and "thread" and turns the very same words to a lament over her own condition. Told of lineage, she answers that lineage has brought her nothing—she does not take up his undertone. The faint, thin ink is itself her hesitation. The hand was unsteady and weak, but well-bred and not to be despised, and Genji was reassured.
- Author
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Murasaki Shikibu
- Source
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Genji Monogatari
- Other
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Of the Hatsuse,
of its swift past, I know nothing—
yet at this meeting,
this glad crossing of today,
even my body flows away
-
Though you do not know,
ask, and you will come to know:
like the sedge that grows
in the inlet of Mishima,
these threads of ours will not break
-
The one who has loved
all these years is the same still,
yet by what strand of
the jeweled vine did she come,
tracing her way here to me?
-
Putting it on, I
found only bitterness there—
this Chinese robe I
would turn inside out and send
back, with my sleeves wet through