いま来むといひて別れし人なれば
かぎりと聞けどなほぞ待たるる
かぎりと聞けどなほぞ待たるる
- Roma-ji
-
Ima komu to iite wakareshi hito nareba kagiri to kikedo nao zo mataruru
- English Translation
-
He was the one who
said he would come back at once
and so, though I hear
that all is over with him
still I find myself waiting
- Meaning
- He was the one who said he would be back at once. And so, though I hear that it is all over with him, I still find myself waiting.
- Commentary
-
55 Still I Find Myself Waiting
A man left the woman who loved him and went off to another province, and while she was waiting to hear when he would return, word came that he had died; and she composed this poem. The prose says no more, and the section consists of this single poem.
Of neither the man nor the woman does the prose give a name or a rank. The fifty-fourth section gives a man's poem saying he will not return to the capital, and this one is placed to give the poem of a woman left behind.
Neither time nor place is given. All we are told is that he went and that news of his death came.
What prompted the poem was that news.
The section ends there; nothing further is recorded. The poem was later included in the Shokugoshūi-shū.
The first line quotes what he said as he left: that he would come back at once.
The grammar that follows makes this the reason for everything after: because he was a man who said that.
What she has heard is put as an end, a last limit, rather than as a death; the concessive carries past it: though she hears it.
The final verb is in the spontaneous voice — she waits without meaning to, and cannot help it, with an emphatic particle governing the form. That one grammatical choice carries the whole of a mind that knows he is dead and goes on waiting anyway.
- Source
- Yamato Monogatari
- Other
-
- The deer that pushes through the autumn fields — does it too, like me, cry out and raise its voice, held back by the thick growth that stands between
- Though I break branches to mark the road as I go this life of ours is a borrowed thing, and unknown so I shall not come back here
- Evening comes on and the road is lost to sight, yet to that old dwelling I go, giving the horse its head — it knew the way before
- So it was the horse you gave the reins to, after all — and foolishly I had been thinking that it was your heart that brought you here