君なくてあしかりけりと思ふにも
いとど難波の浦ぞすみ憂き
いとど難波の浦ぞすみ憂き
- Roma-ji
-
Kimi nakute ashikarikeri to omou ni mo itodo Naniwa no ura zo sumiuki
- English Translation
-
Without you it has
been bad — reed-cutting, and bad —
and thinking of it
the bay of Naniwa grows
harder still to live beside
- Meaning
- Without you it has gone badly — cutting reeds, and badly; and thinking of it, the bay of Naniwa grows harder still to live beside.
- Commentary
-
148 The Bay of Naniwa
A husband and wife were living near Naniwa in the province of Tsu. They were not of poor family, but had come down in the world and could no longer live; so the man urged his wife to go up to the capital and enter service, saying that he would set himself to rights and they would meet again. She went, but in her forlornness she thought of him and grieved with "Hitori shite ikani semashi to wabitsureba soyo to mo mae no ogi zo kotauru". In service in the capital her clothes and her circumstances improved, but she had no one close to her and could learn nothing of her husband. In time a nobleman of the capital took notice of her and she became his wife. Still she was anxious about her former husband, and saying she would go to Naniwa for a purification and to see the place, she went there — and even the old house was gone. She could not find him, and could not tell her attendants the truth; they urged her to go home as it was growing dark. While she hesitated, saying only a little longer, a poor man selling reeds passed before the carriage. He resembled her husband, so she said to call the man over, as she wished to buy his reeds; and the attendants, thinking it strange, called him, and it was he. She tried to have him paid far more than the reeds were worth, and the attendants objected. Meanwhile the man recognised her, and in shame at his condition threw down the reeds and fled into a house and huddled behind the hearth. She said to bring him, and the attendants made a commotion searching for him. Finding him and saying that here was a gift for him and what a fool he was, they were dragging him out when he wrote a letter and asked that it be taken to her. They thought it odd, but carried it. Opening it, she read "Kimi nakute ashikarikeri to omou ni mo itodo Naniwa no ura zo sumiuki", and wept aloud for the sorrow of it. What she answered is not known. She sent the gift back with a letter attached, and what became of it afterwards is not known: "Ashikaraji tote koso hito no wakarekeme nanika Naniwa no ura mo sumiuki". That is the whole of the section.
Tsu is Settsu province, and Naniwa a place within it. Neither husband nor wife is named. The last poem is taken to be a later addition.
The setting is Naniwa, where the man, come down to selling reeds, has been found by his former wife from the capital.
What prompted the poem was his being hunted out of hiding, where he had fled in shame, and dragged forth. He wrote the letter and had it carried to her.
She read it and wept aloud for grief. What she answered is not known, the prose says.
The opening names her absence: he had sent her to the capital.
The word in the second line means both bad and a reed, so that his hard life and his reed-cutting are one word — the whole of his fallen condition in a syllable.
The third line means more and more: a life already hard is harder for her having seen it.
The closing, with an emphatic particle governing its adjective, says the bay is hard to live beside; the verb for living also carries the sense of water running clear. Naniwa was famous for its reeds, so that place and plant belong together. A man who fled in shame conveys his whole condition in one poem rather than in speech.
- Source
- Yamato Monogatari
- Other
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- Though it was not to me alone that you promised still, to live here in the same inlet is a glad water's edge — so I think it
- Alone here, what am I to do — and when I sigh it over, only the reeds before the house rustle and answer: so it is, so
- It was so that things should not go badly — so that there should be no reeds to cut — that we parted; why say Naniwa is hard now
- When the wind blows, white breakers rise far out to sea — and rising, Tatsuta: is it that mountain you are crossing alone at midnight