梅が枝に鳴きて移ろふ鴬の
羽白妙に淡雪ぞ降る
羽白妙に淡雪ぞ降る
- Roma-ji
-
Ume ga e ni nakite utsurou uguisu no hane shirotae ni awayuki zo furu
- English Translation
-
On the plum tree's branch
singing, moving as it goes
the warbler; and now
over its wings shining white
the light snow is falling still
- Meaning
- The warbler goes singing from branch to branch of the plum, and the snow falls until its wings are white.
- Commentary
-
Book One Spring Poems I 30
Headnote: as in the preceding poem, treated as topic unknown.
Plum, warbler and snow, the subjects of everything so far, are gathered into a single poem. This is the second of the two Man'yoshu pieces set into the run on plum. The original gives no fresh headnote.
The poet is recorded only as unknown.
The season is the time of plum blossom; no place is given.
The occasion of composition is not recorded.
The verb closing the second line means to shift position, to move from one place to another; here, the warbler going from branch to branch. Singing and moving are caught in one stroke.
The third line reaches down to the wings named below.
The word in the fourth line names a white cloth woven from paper-mulberry fibre, and by extension whiteness itself. A warbler's wing is in fact a dull greenish brown, so that to see it white is an exaggeration measuring how thickly the snow has settled.
The final line repeats the close of the nineteenth and twentieth poems, with the same emphatic construction. This is its third appearance in the book.
Snow cannot really pile on the wings of a bird in motion, but that small excess conveys at once how fine the flakes are and how hard they are falling. Holding plum, warbler and snow together, the poem stands as a summing-up of the run.
- Author
- Unknown Poet
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- On the plum tree's branch in a way that wearies me the snow scatters down I will not call it blossom and give the spring a bad name
- The catalpa bow is drawn: near the hills of spring I have made my home and without a break I hear the voice of the warbler there
- The warbler's own tears that hung in ice have now thawed and though in old nests still it may be that the bird has come to know it is spring
- Over splashing rocks above the cascading fall the young bracken shoots are pushing up: it has turned to spring at last, has it not