久方の中なる河の鵜飼舟
いかに契りて闇を待つらん
いかに契りて闇を待つらん
- Roma-ji
-
Hisakata no naka naru kawa no ukaibune ika ni chigirite yami o matsuramu
- English Translation
-
On that river up
in the far heavens, the boats
of the cormorants
what have they promised, and why
do they wait for the darkness
- Meaning
- The cormorant boats on the river of heaven: what promise have they made, that they wait for a dark night?
- Commentary
-
Book Three Summer Poems 254
Headnote: as in the preceding poem, for the contest in fifteen hundred rounds.
The fourth poem on cormorant fishing, and the close of the run. The fishing of earth is carried up to the River of Heaven, where boats are imagined too. The original gives no fresh headnote.
This is Teika's fourth appearance in this book, after the two hundred and thirty-second, thirty-fifth and forty-seventh poems.
The time is a summer night; the place is the River of Heaven.
The occasion was submission to the contest.
The Tanabata festival falls on the seventh day of the seventh month, in autumn, and there is a moon that night. To wait for darkness is to wait for a night without one.
The first line is a pillow word attaching to the word for heaven, and makes the river of the second line the River of Heaven.
The second line names a river running through the sky. That river had always been written of as one that boats cross; setting cormorant boats on it is this poem's device.
The third line uses the same words as the three poems before, so that four pieces are bound by one phrase.
The fourth line means: having made what promise? The verb belongs to the vows of the Tanabata meeting.
The auxiliary at the close expresses present conjecture. Since the fishing needs a dark night, the boats of heaven must wait for one too. The conditions of an earthly craft are carried into the sky and made to suggest the Tanabata vow, so that a run of poems on an actual scene ends in invention.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Teika
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- The cormorant boats are they poling up the shoals and past them just now for the light of the fishing fires is knotting as it goes
- Down the Oi, poles and torches, the cormorant boats are going on and at how many shallows will they see the night through here
- The light that of old the fishing fires gave, faintly showing once again in Ashiya village here the fireflies are flying now
- Close by my window the wind is playing over the bamboo's leaves, and at that sound it is shorter still, this dream of a light sleep