今ぞ知る昔にかへる我が道の
誠を神も守りけりとは
誠を神も守りけりとは
- Roma-ji
-
Imazoshiru mukashinikaeru wagamichino makotookamimo mamorikeritowa
- English Translation
-
Now at last I know
that the truth of this my way,
returned to the old,
has been guarded all this while
even by the gods themselves
- Meaning
- Now at last I know that the gods themselves have guarded the truth of my way, now returned to what it was of old.
- Commentary
-
Book Sixteen: Aki no Miyama
On the twenty-sixth of the second month of Bumpo 2 the emperor abdicated. The crown prince had already reached thirty and must have felt the wait long, so the change was welcome to him. The cloistered emperor came out to the capital and took charge of the realm. Of late he had built a chapel near Daikakuji and shut himself up there, giving himself wholly to the deeper study of the esoteric doctrine, so that he seldom came to the city and few visited him, and the place had an air of holiness; now, in the bustle of affairs, his devotions were neglected and he found it troublesome. The accession was on the twenty-ninth of the third month. On the day of the procession the commander of the Left, Uchitsune, and the commander of the Right, Iesada of Kazan'in, quarrelled over precedence in the line, their guardsmen shouted, and the palanquin was halted while officials reported and gave orders. At the thanksgiving on the twenty-seventh of the tenth month, the Consultant Aritoki of Ayanokoji, who was to beat time at the sacred music in the Seishodo, was getting down from his carriage to enter the palace when a coarse-looking provincial warrior drew his sword and cut him down. To be killed in so dense a crowd was strange and shocking. Another man took over the beating of time on the spot. When the affair was investigated afterwards, it turned out that Akiyoshi of the third rank of Kamiyagawa had wanted the office for himself and had arranged it. Devotion to an art is an elegant thing, but this was appalling; he was banished. The son of Go-Nijo was made crown prince, and he moved into the main hall of the Reizei Madenokoji residence, as it had been when the emperor was crown prince. About the second month, seeing the cherry at the eaves in full bloom in a beautiful evening light, he sent a poem attached to that blossom to the palace, and the reply came attached to the cherry of the southern hall. The abdicated emperor lived with his elder brother, the senior retired emperor, at the same Jimyoin. Having been made his son, he was on terms of complete openness with him within one residence, and their relations were all one could wish. Brothers by different mothers, old and new, are apt to be stiff with one another, but the ease between these two was rare and admirable. The senior retired emperor had hoped that his own eldest son by Kogimon'in might become crown prince this time, but he was passed over, and thinking how far off that day must now be he felt it keenly. It was at a poetry contest, perhaps, that he composed a poem. At the Daikakuji, by contrast, seeing the horses and carriages crowding in, the cloistered emperor composed a poem of his own. The reigning emperor had long before secretly carried off the youngest daughter of the lay chancellor Sanekane of Saionji, full sister of the Major Counselor Kanesue, and his love for her grew year by year past all measure, so that she was soon proclaimed consort and before long, in the eighth month, raised to empress; the lay chancellor thought it a fine thing to see in his old age. There was an imperial visit while she was at Kitayama. On the night of the fifteenth of the eighth month the famous moon shone with added brilliance; place and season were delightful and everything was splendid, and her elder sister Eifukumon'in sent a message to the new empress. The reply came from the emperor himself, who said that he would write it. The emperor's full sister, the former high priestess, was also made senior empress, and their mother the junior empress received a title and was called Dantemmon'in. At the palace there was a daughter of the lay Major Counselor Moroshige of Madenokoji, called the assistant handmaid, who stood very high in favour. The Provisional Steward of the crown prince, Tomochika of Horikawa, seems to have begun seeing her in secret, and when she vanished as though blotted out a search was made. Within two or three days it came out who was involved, and the emperor was outraged. She was not of the highest rank, but she was in favour, so he punished Tomochika severely; he thought of sending him to Suma, but in the end stripped him of all his offices and reprimanded him harshly, and Tomochika withdrew in penitence to a villa at Iwakura. Gazing at the blossom at its height, he composed a poem. The handmaid returned to court, and though the emperor felt her false he cherished her the more; yet she was not really so devoted, and her own roving heart no doubt continued. A poem was murmured to no one. Later, when the Major Counselor Kintai was still young, the emperor of his own accord gave her to him; they loved one another and lived together, and she died there. In the eleventh month the emperor's mother died and he put on mourning. The whole realm dyed itself one colour, and even the reed blinds and other ill-omened things hung everywhere looked moving and terrible. The Gosechi dances were cancelled, and the young people felt the loss. The reigning emperor too cultivated the way of poetry, and soon ordered an imperial anthology; the former Major Counselor Tameyo of the Fujiwara received the charge, and whatever he had resented about the Gyokuyoshu must now have been relieved. A daughter of his, called the lady of the Provisional Major Counselor, had been deeply loved by the emperor while he was crown prince, and bore him an eldest son, a third daughter, a cloistered prince and others. She had died early, and was now granted the third rank posthumously; she is called Tameko of the junior third rank, and many graceful poems of hers are in the collections. The Major Counselor then urged poems on everyone and made a pilgrimage to the shrine of Tamatsushima. From the ministers and nobles down, everyone who counted himself a poet in his school went along; his children and grandchildren went down in great state. They visited Sumiyoshi first, wandering and making a stir, and reached Tamatsushima in the ninth month. Among the poems is one by the Major Counselor Tameyo. The anthology was presented on the nineteenth of the fourth month of Geno 2, and is called the Shokusenzaishu. As the compiler was the same as for the Shingosenshu, much of it must resemble that collection. The Middle Counselor Tamefuji had rather more of his own ideas than his father, and people of the time said this one showed a little more subtlety. At court and in the retired emperor's household, poetry contests filled the intervals of government. On the fifteenth night of the eighth month of Genko 1, when the moon was unusually fine, the emperor came out to the Hagi door. It was a night that called for music, but the sacred branch of Kasuga was lodged in the temporary hall and strings and flutes were out of season, so an informal poetry contest was proposed; the Middle Counselor Tamefuji was summoned and set topics on the spot. From those present he chose equal numbers of poets for left and right. They moved to the Anpukuden, where seats were set in the fishing pavilion facing east; the nobles leaned against the veranda rail and the courtiers gathered in the garden, which was very elegant. A boat was drawn up on the pond and the readers of both sides, Takasuke and Tamefuyu, were put aboard. The poets took a long time and were slow to hand in their poems. The shining moon and the waves on the cloudless mirror of the pond made a sky unmistakably of mid-autumn, and the moon sank. As dawn drew near, the emperor's poem was read out. The bell of the Keiyo hall added its sound at that moment, which was remarkable. Many of the poems were far from poor, but none, it is said, surpassed the emperor's poem on the bell. On the third of the first month of Genko 2 came the filial progress. The cloistered emperor was at the Oimikado Kyogoku Tokiwai residence, the house of his younger brother the prince of the Ministry of Ceremonial. This residence too had a pond and a stand of trees of natural elegance, and artificial blossom had been added to the branches so that they bloomed as in spring; snow fell heavily as well, leaving no evergreen uncovered. The cranes on the sandbar and the misty grotto holding a thousand ages made it seem the very palace of the immortals. As the emperor made his obeisance, the nobles crowded the corridors east and west to watch, and among them the eyes of the emperor's foster-father, the former Major Counselor Sadafusa of Yoshida, were wet with tears, which was moving to see. The music began, and the emperor's flute rose clear and brilliant; the Minister of the Left's Ana-toto and Ise no umi were beyond praise. They returned at first light. The cloistered emperor tended more and more to shut himself in at Daikakuji. Finding it burdensome that people crowded in with the business of the realm, he sent the Major Counselor Sadafusa east that summer, presumably with a message that he wished to hand the government to the emperor. Sadafusa soon returned, having reported that it should be as the cloistered emperor wished; the retired emperor's archive was moved to the council hall and some of the councillors were changed. The emperor governed with great intelligence and clarity, worthy of the past, and his learning was formidable, so that everything was clear; disputations on the histories and the classics went on without pause. About the sixth month there was a Chinese-verse composition in the middle hall. The topic was set by the Master of the Bureau of Ceremonial, Fujinori. The emperor wore an informal robe and played the lute Genjo. After the music the writing stand was brought out, and by the end of the reading the short night had grown light. The Minister of the Left Sanetai chanted the emperor's verse over and over as a formal recitation, in a very beautiful voice, and just then a cuckoo called once and passed, which was exquisite. On the seventh of the seventh month the star festival was kept with more attention than in any other year; poems had been called for beforehand and the instruments tried out. That night the emperor played Genjo as usual. The empress came up to the upper apartments, and there were many kotos and lutes behind the blinds. The Soko and the Manshuraku were played through, every passage, again and again. After the music the writing stand was brought out; this time it was a reading of Japanese poems, and the men of that art, the Major Counselor Tameyo with his children and grandchildren, were in attendance when the emperor's poem was read. Poems flowed on, but apart from the River of Heaven and the magpies' bridge nothing new was heard. There was one by the Major Counselor Sanenori, perhaps, and the scents of the incense were indeed exquisite. The year turned again, to Shochu 1. Past the twentieth of the third month there was an imperial visit to Iwashimizu, at which the nobles and courtiers outdid themselves in splendour; on the seventeenth of the fourth month came a visit to Kamo. On the twenty-seventh the banquet for ministerial appointments was held: the commander of the Left, Tsunetada, became Minister of the Right; the Inner Minister Fuyunori moved to the Left, and the commander of the Right, Sanehira, was made Inner Minister. Not long afterwards the Minister of the Right's father, the former regent Iehira, fell gravely ill and took the tonsure. It came so suddenly that his household was thrown into confusion. As his end came, the lay monk Yorimoto, Governor of Oki, who had been his favourite, was behind him; leaning back, he glanced round and said that if only they might go out on that road together he would be glad—and before he had finished his breath stopped. Afterwards Yorimoto too fell ill, and though he wandered in his mind he kept the manner of one deferring to a superior, pulling his robe about him and muttering that he would come at once, and before long he died. Since his late lord had loved him so, people said he had been summoned, and all thought it remarkable.
The emperor is Go-Daigo, who came to the throne on the twenty-sixth of the second month of Bumpo 2 at the age of thirty; he was the son of the cloistered emperor Go-Uda. The abdicated emperor is Hanazono. The crown prince is the eldest son of Go-Nijo, established in this book. The senior retired emperor is Go-Fushimi, Kogimon'in was his consort, and their eldest son was not made crown prince. The cloistered emperor is Go-Uda, who had built a chapel near Daikakuji and shut himself up there in the study of the esoteric doctrine. The new empress was the youngest daughter of the lay chancellor Sanekane of Saionji, full sister of the Major Counselor Kanesue; Eifukumon'in was her elder sister and had been Fushimi's empress. The former high priestess was the emperor's full sister and was made senior empress, and their mother the junior empress received the title Dantemmon'in. The assistant handmaid was a daughter of the lay Major Counselor Moroshige of Madenokoji; the Provisional Steward Tomochika of Horikawa lost his offices over the affair, and the Major Counselor Kintai was later given her. The former Major Counselor Tameyo compiled the Shokusenzaishu; Tameko of the junior third rank was his daughter and the Middle Counselor Tamefuji his son. The Major Counselor Sanenori and the Middle Counselor Tamefuji also appear at these gatherings.
The reigning emperor too cultivated the way of poetry and soon ordered an imperial anthology, and the former Major Counselor Tameyo received the charge; whatever he had resented about the Gyokuyoshu, the narrator says, must now have been relieved.
He then urged poems on everyone and made a pilgrimage to the shrine of Tamatsushima. From the ministers and nobles down, everyone who counted himself a poet in his school went along, and his children and grandchildren went down in great state. They visited Sumiyoshi first, wandering and making a stir, and reached Tamatsushima in the ninth month. Tamatsushima stands at Waka Bay in Kii and enshrines the god of poetry.
This is the Major Counselor Tameyo's poem, quoted from among those composed there. He was of the house of poetry and compiles the Shokusenzaishu in this book.
The anthology was presented on the nineteenth of the fourth month of Geno 2 and is called the Shokusenzaishu; as the compiler was the same as for the Shingosenshu, the narrator remarks, much of it must resemble that collection.
The emphatic particle in the first line is answered by the attributive verb: now for the first time he knows. What he knows is held back until the close. The second line means returning to what it was of old, that the way of poetry has recovered its proper ancient form; the whole history—that a man passed over as compiler for the Gyokuyoshu has now received the imperial charge—is contained in that phrase. The third line is the way of poetry his own house transmits. In the fourth, the word for truth means what is genuine and rightly ordered, and the added particle implies not only men but the gods as well. At the close the exclamatory auxiliary marks the recognition, and the final particle points back to the verb of the first line, completing an inversion. Since Tamatsushima enshrines the god of poetry, to speak of divine protection before that shrine suits the place. A private cause for satisfaction, his appointment as compiler, is recast as the public claim that the rightness of his way has been acknowledged by a god, and for that the word for truth is set at the centre. The setting is the same Waka Bay as in Fushimi's poem in the fifteenth book, "Wagayoniwa atsumenuwakano urachidori munashikinaoya atoninokosamu"; but where that laments a collection never made, this rejoices in one entrusted, so that one place carries two opposite scenes.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Tameyo
- Source
- Masukagami
- Other
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- Even my troubles are forgotten for a while before the blossom, and the heart that loves the spring is just what it was of old
- That I alone do not forget a bond long since broken off, and that it hurts—both of these were my own heart's doing
- Even the bell's sound is drawn to make its excuse of the sinking moon— and the night I find it hard to lose is this very night
- The voice of the flute must surely be heard as far as the sky itself— this autumn music that tonight we offer up as our gift