麓まで尾の上の桜散り来ずは
たなびく雲と見てや過ぎまし
たなびく雲と見てや過ぎまし
- Roma-ji
-
Fumoto made onoe no sakura chirikozu wa tanabiku kumo to mite ya sugimashi
- English Translation
-
If the summit's bloom
did not come falling this far
down to the foothills
I would take them for trailing
cloud, and pass them by unseen
- Meaning
- If the cherry from the ridge had not come drifting down as far as the foot of the hill, I should have taken it for trailing cloud and gone on past.
- Commentary
-
Book Two Spring Poems II 124
Headnote: when he wrote ten poems on blossom.
The conceit is that the fallen petals themselves prove the white on the ridge to be blossom and not cloud. The headnote assigns the poem to a set of ten on blossom.
The poet, given by his court title, is Fujiwara no Akisuke (1090-1155). He compiled the Shika Wakashu and built the poetics of the Rokujo house. Fujiwara no Kiyosuke, the poet of the thirty-fourth poem in Book One, was his son.
The time is when the cherries fall; the place is the foot of a mountain.
The occasion was the writing of the ten poems.
The first line means as far down as the foot of the hill, and takes it as given that petals have reached there.
The second line uses the same word for a ridge as the hundred and twenty-second poem.
The third line is a supposition: had they not come drifting down.
The auxiliary at the close marks a contrary-to-fact case, with an interrogative particle: in fact the petals arrived and the matter was settled, but had they not, he would have gone past thinking it cloud.
Whether a white thing is cloud or blossom is the subject of the hundred and second and hundred and fifteenth poems as well. Those state the impossibility of telling; this one has the evidence of fallen petals and reaches an answer, so that the question is placed here in its resolved form.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Akisuke
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- The hills are so deep that the stands of cedar there are lost from my sight in the wind off the summit the flowers are scattering
- Under the branches until the green of the moss is lost from my sight they have fallen and lie deep the mountain cherry blossoms
- Once the flowers fall those who came grow rare, until no one comes at all and all that is left to hear is the wind I used to hate
- Coming out to look I have grown too used to them these flowers, and so the parting when they scatter is a grief I did not want