夢とだにさだかにも無きかり臥しの
草の枕に露ぞこぼるる
草の枕に露ぞこぼるる
- Roma-ji
-
Yumetodani sadakanimonaki karibushino kusanomakurani tsuyuzokoboruru
- English Translation
-
Not even as a dream
was it certain—that brief lying down,
and on the pillow
of grass where I rested my head
the dew is spilling over
- Meaning
- It was not clear even as a dream, that brief lying down; and on the pillow of grass the dew spills over.
- Commentary
-
Book Eleven: Kusamakura
On the twenty-sixth of the first month of Bunei 11 Kameyama gave the throne to the crown prince. On the night of the twenty-fifth the sacred mirror and regalia were taken first to the Oshikoji residence, and the next day they were moved deliberately to the Nijo palace. The regent Tadaie of Kujo came and had a chamberlain summoned to grant the forbidden colours. The emperor was eight, very small and pretty, his hair in loops, and in his trailing robe, beaten silk and stiffened trousers he looked grown up and splendid. The Inner Minister of Kazan'in supported him, and Kinmori, elder brother of the late senior empress, watched with feeling and remembered how it would have been had the late minister and the late empress been alive. From the twenty-eighth the worship before the sacred mirror began. The new retired emperor made his first progress on the seventh of the second month, to the Nakamikado Kyogoku house of the Middle Captain Sanetoshi where Omiya-in was living. On the tenth he first used the chrysanthemum wickerwork carriage, and on the twentieth made his first informal progress, to the Kitashirakawa residence. The senior retired emperor, mindful of the third-year rites for the late retired emperor, held services from the end of the first month at the Chokodo of the Rokujo residence, with deep and moving reverence. He drew blood from his finger and copied the Lotus Sutra in his own hand, and kept ten or more priests to read the penitential rites. He was not unaware of the hardship of a testament that had gone against him, but thinking that this too must be as it had to be, he served his father's memory the more devotedly, which was very moving. The accession was on the twenty-sixth of the third month, the purification on the twenty-second of the tenth. On the twentieth of the eleventh the Gosechi dances were to begin, but were cancelled because of the Mongols. On the twenty-second only the procession to the Kairyuden and the banquet were held for the thanksgiving, and there was no sacred music at the Seishodo. Since the new retired emperor's authority over the realm was unchanged, everything went as he wished, and he made frequent and brilliant progresses to the places he had long wanted to see. The senior retired emperor, brooding on the strangeness of his own destiny and on what people must think of it, prepared to renounce the world and returned even his title. As he dismissed his guardsmen with gifts, meaning to give up his armed escort as well, everyone felt how forlorn it was. He was thirty-three that year. Even the late retired emperor's tonsure at forty-nine had been lamented by all. The lady of the eastern apartments resolved not to be left behind, and three or four of the ladies and nobles closest to him seemed to be preparing to follow him. News of this reached the east, where the warriors met and deliberated as at a council of war. At this time Tokimune, son of Tokiyori and Governor of Sagami, governed the realm. The late Tokiyori, after taking the tonsure in Koen 1, had travelled the provinces in secret as a pilgrim, meaning thereby to learn in detail the state of the provinces and the grievances of the people. Stopping at poor lodgings he would question the householder, and when he uncovered a just grievance that had been buried he would give the man a letter to carry east; it proved to be from the lay lord himself, and people pressed their foreheads to the ground for joy. He was called the lay monk of Saimyoji. Being his son, perhaps, Tokimune too was an admirable man. Saying that for the senior retired emperor to renounce the world so was too sad and too grave a thing—that the late retired emperor's testament might have its reasons, but that a man so much the elder, who had done no wrong, should not be allowed to vanish so abruptly, which would be a negligent business—he petitioned the new retired emperor, soothed both sides, and had the young prince of the eastern apartments made crown prince. The banquet was held on the fifth of the eleventh month, most splendidly. At this the senior retired emperor was somewhat consoled, and since his religious resolve was not such that he must force it through, he gave up the idea. He was about two years older than the emperor. Precedents for an heir apparent older than the sovereign were recalled—San'jo, Koichijo, Takakura—and also how the descendants of Tenji and Temmu had ruled by turns; and it was hoped that the throne would pass through the two lines. The high priestess who had gone down at the beginning of the Bunei era was Go-Saga's daughter by a lesser consort. After his death she withdrew for mourning, but leave was not granted, so she remained three years in Ise; at the end of that autumn she came up and lived at a place called Kinugasa near Ninnaji. Remembering with feeling how the late retired emperor had cherished her next after Gekkamon'in, Omiya-in visited her with great kindness. She herself was at the Kameyama villa. About the tenth month, wishing to bring the priestess over as well, she sent word that the senior retired emperor should come too, and he made the journey, which was a rare thing. That night they talked quietly of old times and new before the retired empress. Toward evening the next day a carriage or two and a courtier or two were sent discreetly to fetch her from Kinugasa, and they met in the southern room of the main hall with cushions arranged. The priestess wore plum-blossom shades under a grape-coloured jacket; her hair was magnificent and at its best, and she seemed a year or two past twenty. If one spoke of flowers, even the pale cherry through the haze would look the poorer; she was indescribably noble and lovely, and the air about her seemed to be scented. The retired emperor came in a hunting robe of withered-field pattern, a pale robe and aster-coloured trousers, so deeply perfumed that the fragrance filled the room. They spoke of the age of the gods for a time, and when he turned with feeling to the late retired emperor's last days, her answers, shy though they were, were not ungracious, and the faint way she spoke was very charming. The retired emperor went back to his own quarters and lay down, but could not sleep; her face stayed with him past all reason. Though she was his sister, they had grown up apart, and being unused to one another he perhaps felt little of the restraint he should have; he thought it too disappointing to let the matter end in mere frustration. He summoned a daughter of a certain Major Counselor who served near him and who, through a connection, went familiarly to the priestess as well, and pressed her earnestly; by some contrivance he came to her as though in a dream. The priestess felt it bitterly, but she did not faint or protest; she was soft and yielding and pitiful. As the cocks kept startling him and he was concerned for her reputation, he slipped away while it was still dark. Rising late in the morning, he sent her a letter. On the surface it was quite ordinary—asking how she found sleeping away from home—but written small within it was a poem. It ended by saying that her coldness left him nothing to say. She pleaded illness and would not even look at it, and since pressing her would be unpleasant, her women advised her to smooth it over quietly and recover. Trays were brought for the various parties, and toward midday they met again. That day the retired emperor was host, and the Major Counselor Takaaki of Zenshoji had elegant cypress-box refreshments prepared in many kinds. The priestess offered the retired empress's cup, and the retired emperor drank after her. With only a curtain between, the Major Counselor Sanekane of Saionji and the Major Counselor Takaaki of Zenshoji were summoned below the threshold, and Nagasuke, Tamekata, Kaneyuki and Sukeyuki were on the veranda. Ladies were called and kotos joined; there was a lute before the retired emperor, and Sanekane played too, with Kaneyuki on the oboe and sacred songs sung—the very informality of it was delightful. The retired empress sang a popular song in a fine voice. When the night grew late she withdrew, and the priestess, still on the same seat, lay down as if casually, so that the others drew back a little and soon fell asleep. Since the priestess was to return the next day, the retired emperor could not master his wish to make one more night's pillow of grass, and moved so quietly that no one woke. For all his coaxing she did not yield, but she was so entirely gentle and soft, and looked so lost, that he felt tenderness and pity for her. The night was long, but as it was already late the dawn came quickly, and though he was far from satisfied with what was left of the dream, the priestess too looked distressed as they parted. Afterwards he sent word from time to time, but as there could be nothing formal between them it was at long intervals. While he brooded on it endlessly, the Major Counselor Sanekane of Saionji began visiting her in secret; he was a serious man and much devoted to her, so that even her foster-mother let it be, and they came to rely on one another. One evening he promised to come again after leaving the palace, and while they waited, the minister Moritada of Nijo, walking out very privately, met him on the road with a large and glittering retinue. Finding this awkward, and seeing the priestess's gate open, he drew up and got down; inside they thought the Major Counselor had come, and a charming young attendant came out and made the usual signal. The minister, who had no such expectation, was amused, followed her in, and found the priestess behind her curtain, waiting innocently. He wondered at it, but spoke suitably of a long-standing devotion, and to his own astonishment fell deeply in love. The Major Counselor, seeing a man get down from a carriage where he should not, left one guardsman nearby to watch and went home. The visitor, though the night had begun with no such intention, saw how she behaved and, putting it together with the carriage he had passed, understood that there was something between her and the Major Counselor; thinking it an unseemly and pointless business he left before the night was far gone. The guardsman had seen all this and reported it, and the Major Counselor, deeply hurt, thought that it must have been so all along, and that he had been made a fool of, and wondered what was in the minister's mind, and for a long time did not visit. The priestess, not knowing that everything had been seen, wondered at it as the days passed, and when she proved to be with child the Major Counselor could not think it wholly his, which distressed her greatly. Yet he seems to have judged the matter after all, for he attended to her at that time with great kindness, adopted even the princess born of another mother, and made provision for her. Before long, on the fifteenth of the second month of Koan 7, the priestess died, and the Major Counselor is said to have grieved deeply. As for the new retired emperor, a daughter of the senior lord of the Konoe house had entered as his consort some years before; she had lately received a title and was called Shin Yomeimon'in. About the winter of Kenji 2 a prince was born at the Konoe residence, and the third, fifth, seventh and ninth night celebrations were held in great state, and the child soon received the proclamation as prince.
The senior retired emperor is Go-Fukakusa, thirty-three that year. The new retired emperor is Kameyama, and the emperor is Go-Uda, who came to the throne at eight in Bunei 11. Omiya-in was the daughter of Saneuji of Saionji and the mother of Go-Fukakusa and Kameyama; the late retired emperor is Go-Saga. The high priestess was Go-Saga's daughter by a lesser consort, and so half-sister to Go-Fukakusa and Kameyama; she had gone down to Ise at the beginning of the Bunei era. Gekkamon'in was her elder sister. The lady of the eastern apartments was the senior retired emperor's consort, and her son becomes crown prince in this book. The Major Counselor Sanekane of Saionji was the son of the chancellor Kinsuke and grandson of Saneuji of Tokiwai. The minister Moritada of Nijo, the Major Counselor Takaaki of Zenshoji, the regent Tadaie of Kujo and the Inner Minister of Kazan'in were among those in attendance. The man governing in the east was Tokimune of Sagami, son of the late lay monk Tokiyori of Saimyoji. Shin Yomeimon'in was a daughter of the senior lord of the Konoe house and had entered as the new retired emperor's consort.
About the tenth month of Bunei 11, Omiya-in, staying at the Kameyama villa, wished to bring over the high priestess who had come up from Ise, and sent word that the senior retired emperor should come as well; he made the journey, which was a rare thing.
Toward evening the next day a carriage was sent to fetch her from Kinugasa and they met. The priestess wore plum-blossom shades under a grape-coloured jacket; her hair was at its finest and she seemed a year or two past twenty. If one spoke of flowers, even the pale cherry through the haze would look the poorer; she was indescribably noble and lovely, and the air about her seemed scented. The retired emperor returned to his own quarters and lay down, but her face stayed with him and he could not sleep. She was Go-Saga's daughter by a lesser consort, and so his half-sister.
Though she was his sister, they had grown up apart, and he perhaps felt little of the restraint he should have. He summoned a daughter of a certain Major Counselor who served near him and went familiarly to the priestess as well, pressed her earnestly, and came to the priestess as though in a dream. As the cocks kept startling him he slipped away while it was still dark, and rising late in the morning he sent a letter. On the surface it was quite ordinary, asking how she found sleeping away from home, but written small within it was this poem.
It ended by saying that her coldness left him nothing to say. The priestess pleaded illness and would not even look at it, and since pressing her would be unpleasant, her women advised her to smooth it over quietly and recover.
The title of this book comes from the fourth line of this poem.
The particle in the first line marks a minimum: if only as a dream. The second line says that it was not clear even as that, so that the brevity of the meeting and its air of unreality are stated together. The third line is a brief lying down, that is a night away from home, and the word for temporary governs it. The priestess had come up from Ise, was living at Kinugasa near Ninnaji, and had been invited that day to the Kameyama villa, so that the word for travelling rest applies exactly to her situation, and the surface of the letter, which asked how she found sleeping away from home, runs on directly into the poem. The fourth line is the conventional pillow of grass for a night on the road, and it also serves to lead into the dew below. At the close the emphatic particle is answered by the attributive form of the verb; the dew belongs by association with the grass and at the same time means tears, so that dew settling on a grass pillow and tears falling on that pillow are held in one word. Without a single statement of what happened, the poem conveys everything through the phrase about its not being clear even as a dream and the image of dew spilling on a traveller's pillow, which suits the manner of its delivery: an ordinary note of enquiry on the surface, with this written small inside. The title of the book comes from that fourth line, continuing the pattern of the second, third, seventh, ninth and tenth books, where a phrase from a poem gives the book its name.
- Author
- Go-Fukakusa In
- Source
- Masukagami
- Other
-
- Had it any heart, this plum in a world that now and always is bitter would not, if it kept the season in mind, be blossoming at all
- How vain it was— like the pear on Ou shore that bears no fruit— to have trusted even in myself, saying, when my lord's reign comes
- On Fushimi hill, through ten thousand ages adding branch to branch, the pine will flourish, and its tip reaches far into the years
- The span in which it is to flourish is long— on Fushimi hill, where the pine grows on and on, linking branch to branch