秋の田に庵さす賤の苫を荒み
月とともにやもりあかすらん
月とともにやもりあかすらん
- Roma-ji
-
Aki no ta ni io sasu shizu no toma o arami tsuki to tomo ni ya moriakasuramu
- English Translation
-
Where he sets his hut
in the autumn field, the thatch
of the poor man's roof
is coarse, and with the moon he
must be keeping watch till dawn
- Meaning
- The thatch of the poor man's hut in the autumn field is coarsely woven: with the moon leaking through it, he must be keeping watch till dawn.
- Commentary
-
Book Four Autumn Poems I 431
Headnote: from a hundred-poem sequence called for in the reign of Retired Emperor Sutoku.
This poem closes the run on the hut in the fields, with its keeper sitting out the night in the company of the moon. The headnote refers to the Kyuan sequences of 1150, from which the four hundred and thirteenth poem also comes.
The poet, given by his court title, is Fujiwara no Akisuke, compiler of the Shika Wakashu and founder of the poetics of the Rokujo house. This is his second appearance in this book, after the four hundred and thirteenth poem.
The time is a night in autumn; the place is a hut in an autumn field.
The occasion was the presentation of the hundred-poem sequence.
The verb in the first two lines means to put up a hut.
The word in the second line means a person of low station, used in Sanesada's two hundred and nineteenth poem in Book Three.
The word in the third line names the sedge or reed matting laid as a roof, and the phrase after it, an adjective stem with a suffix, states a cause: because the weave is coarse.
An interrogative particle in the fourth line governs the auxiliary at the close.
The verb at the close is the one used in the four hundred and twenty-eighth poem, doing double duty for light leaking and for guarding a field, with a verb meaning to sit out the night. Three poems share the pivot, and of them this one reasons most closely, since the coarseness of the roof is given as the cause of the leaking.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Akisuke
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- My heart has wandered and through the nights I do not sleep, the dust gathers for I have not swept it clear this thin mat of my bedding
- In the autumn field on the straw mat of a bed where I doze a while the moon lodges, and even so the dew has settled thickly
- The colours of fall grow strange to the garden hedge and further away and used to my arm, it stays the moonlight in my bedroom
- Is it autumn dew that settles so heavily on my sleeve, I ask through the long night, not sated the moon has taken lodging