あふことの願ふばかりになりぬれば
ただにかへしし時ぞ恋しき
ただにかへしし時ぞ恋しき
- Roma-ji
-
Au koto no negau bakari ni narinureba tada ni kaeshishi toki zo koishiki
- English Translation
-
Now that meeting you
has come to be a thing I
only pray for, I
find myself longing for those
days when I sent you home un-
- Meaning
- Now that meeting you has come to be something I can only pray for, I find myself longing for the days when I sent you home with nothing.
- Commentary
-
107 Reduced to Praying
Another woman sent this poem to the same Prince of the Ministry of Military Affairs. The prose says no more, and the section consists of this single poem.
The prince headed that ministry and exchanges ten poems with Taira no Nakaki's daughter in the hundred and sixth section. Of this woman the prose says only that she was another.
Neither time nor place is given. All we are told is that another woman sent him a poem.
The prose records nothing of what prompted it.
The section ends with the poem; no reply and no later event is recorded. After the long exchange with one woman in the hundred and sixth section, this places a single poem from another.
The opening says that meeting him has become a thing she can only pray for, the particle of limitation marking that nothing else is left her.
The grammar makes that the reason for what follows: the present state is set down first, and from it she looks back.
What she looks back to is the time when she sent him away with nothing — her own former refusals.
The closing, with an emphatic particle governing its adjective, states the longing. Once she could turn him away; now she can only pray. She does not reproach him; she states how her own position has changed.
- Source
- Yamato Monogatari
- Other
-
- Passing my nights up in the cloud-country, in these long summer rains that fall on all beneath heaven there is no good in living
- It is because I have gone on weeping that my voice reached the cloud-country at all — and still there is on- ly this sense of growing distance
- The pink you lay be- side and looked at for a while its root has withered and our lying has gone too How was it flowering then
- Did it find it hard that I once rode on it, and fade away for that — that life of a drop of dew that hangs upon a grass blade