からにだにわれ来たりてへ露の身の
消えばともにと契りおきてき
消えばともにと契りおきてき
- Roma-ji
-
Kara ni dani ware kitarite e tsuyu no mi no kieba tomo ni to chigiriokiteki
- English Translation
-
Then tell the body
at least — tell it that I came
We promised, we two
that if these dew-lives of ours
vanished, they would go as one
- Meaning
- Then tell the body at least — tell it that I came. We promised that if these dew-lives of ours vanished, they would go together.
- Commentary
-
104 If We Vanish, Together
A woman sent the Lesser Captain Fujiwara no Shigemoto "Koishisa ni shinuru inochi o omoiidete tou hito araba nashi to kotaeyo", and his reply was "Kara ni dani ware kitarite e tsuyu no mi no kieba tomo ni to chigiriokiteki". That is the whole of the section.
Fujiwara no Shigemoto held the rank of Lesser Captain. Of the woman the prose tells us nothing.
The setting is the moment after her poem reached him.
What prompted it is hers, "Koishisa ni shinuru inochi o omoiidete tou hito araba nashi to kotaeyo", with its instruction to say she is gone.
This reply closes the hundred and fourth section. The prose passes no judgement; the section consists of the exchange alone.
The first word means the corpse, and the particle after it means at the very least. Taking her supposition of her own death, he answers: then let the body be told.
What follows asks that it be told he came — a message entrusted in return for the message she entrusted to him.
The dew-life of the fourth line is a life as brief as dew.
The closing recalls a promise, in the grammar of something firmly past: that if they vanished they would vanish together. He produces the oath and so refuses to let her die alone. He steps straight into the scene of death she has set and answers from inside it.
- Source
- Yamato Monogatari
- Other
-
- Though the tears that come of finding the world hard flow fast, and faster still should they turn so quickly to a river of heaven — a nun
- If anyone comes remembering the life that longing put an end to, and asks after me, then tell them: she is here no more
- You who went into the dark of Kurama's hills in your ink-dyed robe come back to me — come groping your way, if it must be so
- The longing I had with such trouble almost put out of mind — and now how wretchedly it calls, the voice of the warbler, calling