小笹葺く賤の丸屋の仮の戸を
あけがたに鳴く時鳥かな
あけがたに鳴く時鳥かな
- Roma-ji
-
Ozasa fuku shizu no maroya no kari no to o akegata ni naku hototogisu kana
- English Translation
-
Thatched with dwarf bamboo
the round hut of poor folk, and
its makeshift doorway
opening at break of day
where the cuckoo cries at dawn
- Meaning
- The rough round hut is thatched with dwarf bamboo, and the cuckoo, crying at daybreak, opens its makeshift door.
- Commentary
-
Book Three Summer Poems 219
Headnote: on the theme of the cuckoo at dawn at a mountain house.
The topic is that phrase, and the scene is a poor house in the hills where the bird is heard at first light.
The poet, known by his office, is Fujiwara no Sanesada, who rose to Minister of the Left and was a nephew of Shunzei and a cousin of Teika. In Book One he is the poet of the thirty-fifth poem and in Book Two of the hundred and forty-first. He is also the man named in the headnote to the two hundred and tenth poem.
The time is a summer daybreak; the place is a rough house in the mountains.
The occasion was the set topic.
The first line means thatched with small bamboo; the prefix is merely rhythmic.
The second line names a person of low rank and a rough round hut, so that a plain mountain dwelling is set before us. It belongs with the brushwood door of Kunaikyo's hundred and seventy-third poem in Book Two.
The third line names a door put up for the time being.
The word in the fourth line means daybreak and also carries the verb for opening, so that one word holds both the coming of day and the opening of the door, with the door above as its object.
The poem closes on a noun with an exclamatory particle. The bird's cry is said to open the door of the hut, as though a voice could do physical work.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Sanesada
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- Though I do not hear I will make this place my hope cuckoo, here among the stand of cedars that grows on the plain of Yamada
- The cuckoo has come out of the deep peaks at last and down at the foot of the nearer hills its voice comes falling and falling down
- Everything is damp and the sweet flag gives its scent and the cuckoo calls in the rain of the fifth month and the evening comes on now
- And today again even the sweet flag's root, and the sound of my tears and the tangle grows the worse white jewels lying on my sleeve