That the fields have come
to the end of autumn, too,
is known by nothing
but the faint stirring of wind
through the slender plume grasses

Meaning

That the fields have come to the end of autumn is known by nothing but the faint stirring of wind through the slender plume grass.

Commentary

Part Three: Yadorigi

　Naka no Kimi's reply to Niou's poem on the plume grass. The end of autumn too, she says, is known only by the faintest movement of the wind, and she means that her own heart should be read the same way. Not to state a reproach to a husband whose visits have grown rare, but to answer by way of the things in the garden, is common to both the Uji sisters. Soon after this she bore a son and her position at the Nijo residence was at last secure.

　Aki tsuru is the ending of autumn, and aki carries aki, weariness. Honomeku kaze is a wind that barely stirs, the faintest sign of a thing. Taking over his plume grass, she answers that the turn of the season is known by the wind moving its blades. The reasoning, that what cannot be seen is known by small signs, holds her wish to be understood inside a very restrained way of saying it.

Author

Murasaki Shikibu

Source

Genji Monogatari

Other

That the fields have come to the end of autumn, too, is known by nothing but the faint stirring of wind through the slender plume grasses

That the fields have come
to the end of autumn, too,
is known by nothing
but the faint stirring of wind
through the slender plume grasses