それながら昔にもあらぬ秋風に
いとど眺めをしづのをだまき
いとど眺めをしづのをだまき
- Roma-ji
-
Sore nagara mukashi ni mo aranu akikaze ni itodo nagame o shizu no odamaki
- English Translation
-
The same, and yet not
what it was in the old days
this autumn wind, and
I gaze the more, and the more
as a spindle turns its thread
- Meaning
- The same autumn wind, and not what it was of old; and at it I gaze on and on, as the spindle winds and unwinds.
- Commentary
-
Book Four Autumn Poems I 368
Headnote: as in the preceding poem, an autumn poem.
Following the run on the autumn evening, the poem finds the same wind no longer what it was. The original gives no fresh headnote.
Princess Shokushi, a daughter of Emperor Go-Shirakawa, had served as High Priestess of the Kamo Shrine. This is her fourth appearance in this book, after the three hundred and eighth, twenty-first and forty-ninth poems.
The time is autumn; no place is given.
The occasion of composition is not recorded.
The spindle named at the close is a ring wound with hemp or ramie thread; because thread is drawn from it and wound back, it stands for repetition.
The first line means: being that same thing. The identity of the wind is granted.
The second line means not as it was long ago. It is the shape of Komachi's three hundred and twelfth poem, where the wind was the same and the tears were not; here the wind itself is said to have changed.
The third line names the object.
The word in the fourth line means all the more, and its sound carries the word for thread, which leads into the spindle below. The verb means to gaze while lost in thought.
The poem closes on a noun. Thread is drawn from the spindle and wound back, so that it stands for doing one thing over and over, and in that one word the endlessness of the gazing is given.
- Author
- Princess Shokushi
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- There is not a sleeve the autumn wind has not reached and does not reach too it is only from ourselves this dew, this evening of ours
- It is past my grasp what reason there is in fall that everything should become, without cause or point a thing to be grieved over
- The evening in which the cicadas cry is hard to bear, though the thoughts I have are the ones that come always, and are never done
- When the autumn comes even the wind in the pines of the evergreen mountain goes into me so that the colour seems to change