ふるさとと荒れにし宿の草の葉も
君がためとぞまづは摘みける
君がためとぞまづは摘みける
- Roma-ji
-
Furusato to arenishi yado no kusa no ha mo kimi ga tame to zo mazu wa tsumikeru
- English Translation
-
Even the grasses
of this house you have let run
to waste and ruin
these I picked before all else
thinking they were for your sake
- Meaning
- Even the grasses of this house, which has gone to ruin for want of you, I picked before anything else, thinking of you.
- Commentary
-
18 The Blades of Grass
The late Prince of the Ministry of Ceremonial had stopped visiting the Lady of Nijō, and on the seventh day of the First Month in the following year she sent him young herbs, with this poem. The prose says no more, and the section consists of this single poem.
The prince headed the Ministry of Ceremonial and appears in the seventeenth section as well as the two that follow this one. Of the Lady of Nijō the prose tells us nothing beyond the place her name comes from.
The setting is the seventh day of the First Month, in the year after his visits ceased. It was the custom on that day to gather young herbs, eat them, and send them as gifts.
What prompted the poem was sending those herbs to the prince. It went with them.
The section ends with the poem; no reply from him is recorded. The nineteenth section gives another exchange between the same two, set in autumn.
The word for an old home carries the sense of a place gone to ruin because no one visits, and she puts that ruin first; the phrase that follows names the neglected house.
Grass growing in such a house is a poor thing. The particle after it means even that — even these — and carries into the phrase about his sake.
The phrase in the last line means before anything else, and behind it lies before anyone else. An emphatic particle governs the final verb: it was for him that she picked them.
She lays out no reproach; the young herbs and one poem carry the whole appeal.
- Source
- Yamato Monogatari
- Other
-
- The plumes of pampas bending in the autumn wind are so like the sleeve I saw in those days long past that longing has come on me
- You would not have thought of any sleeve, nor of me had the pampas plumes bending in the autumn wind not startled you into it
- I live on, and yet I am one who does not love so why, when evening comes on, should I be taken by a sadness with no cause
- At dusk, when I sink into brooding, it is like the tenth month itself and I am not outdone by the cold rains of that season