夏引のいとことわりやふためみめ
よりありくまに程の經るかも
よりありくまに程の經るかも
- Roma-ji
-
Natsuhiki no ito kotowari ya futame mime yori ariku ma ni hodo no furu kamo
- English Translation
-
Summer-drawn thread — and
reason enough, I grant you;
but twisting your way
from this eye to that, two, three,
the time itself runs out.
- Meaning
- Summer-drawn thread, and reason enough, I grant you; but while you go twisting your way from one eye to the next, two and three, the time itself runs out.
- Commentary
-
14 Kaneie's Friendship with Prince Akiakira
On the fifth of the seventh month, while the author was shut in for a long period of abstinence, word came from Kaneie that the day after next would be the meeting slope. She answered with a poem, and — whether he thought the tone had altered — Kaneie seemed to take a little more notice of her, and the months went by so. The woman of Machi no Kōji, whom she had found insufferable, was now, she heard, a laughing-stock, and that eased her mind. As for what had gone before, there was nothing to be done: hard as it was, it must be the poverty of her own destiny, she told herself, turning the matter over this way and that as the time passed. Kaneie, after his years as lesser counselor, rose to the fourth rank, left the privy chamber, and at the appointments received an office not to his liking. He seemed to find the world thoroughly distasteful, and since he went nowhere but on his rounds of visits, he would spend two or three days quite at leisure. About that time a poem came from the Prince who was head of that unwelcome office, and Kaneie answered it; three exchanges passed between them on the figure of thread. Later, from about the twentieth of the fifth month, the author moved to the place she had used before in order to avoid a period of mourning, and the Prince had moved to a house separated from hers by only a fence. Rain fell heavily into the sixth month, and everyone must have been shut in by it; her own lodging being a poor one, there was a commotion over the leaking roof, and a poem came from the Prince. Exchanges on the long rains and the muddy road of love followed, and after them others on the pink and the shore plover.
Kaneie was the third son of Fujiwara no Morosuke, and by this time had passed his years as lesser counselor and risen to the fourth rank; he would rise to be regent and chancellor. The author was a daughter of Fujiwara no Tomoyasu. The Prince is the head of the office in which Kaneie served as deputy; the text gives no name, and he is taken to be Prince Akiakira. The woman of Machi no Kōji likewise appears under that name only.
It is the Ōwa era, and the places are the Prince's residence and the author's dwelling.
It came back by return, in answer to Kaneie's plea that his coming had been to no purpose.
Kaneie answered with "Naku bakari arite koso are natsuhiki no itoma ya wa naki hitome futame ni," and the exchange continued.
He takes up the other's thread and works the imagery finer still. The opening names the hemp thread drawn in summer, which introduces the word in the second line and at the same time sounds the sense of very much. What follows means: reason enough, I grant it — conceding for the moment the claim that his coming has been wasted. The third line counts the eyes of thread, two and three, and at once means meeting face to face two or three times. The word in the fourth line means to twist thread and also from, and on it the poem turns. What follows means: while you go walking about — a direct hit at the narrative's own remark that Kaneie was forever on his rounds of visits. The close ends in an exclamation at how the time runs out. Twisting the thread, counting its eyes and walking about are laid one over another, so that the reproach for too many visits is delivered without ever leaving the key of banter.
- Source
- Kagero Nikki
- Other
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- As one reels tangled thread — now that our office has become one office, how is it that your coming, your reeling in, has ceased?
- To hear you say it has ceased is a thread of grief; and all through your good offices I came to that same office — to no purpose.
- There is nothing left for me but weeping; summer-drawn thread — is there really no gap in it, no leisure for one eye, two, with you?
- You and I are still like white thread: how, I wonder, might we come at last to our ending without one bitter knot along the way?