秋の色は籬に疎くなりゆけど
手枕なるる閨の月影
手枕なるる閨の月影
- Roma-ji
-
Aki no iro wa magaki ni utoku nariyukedo tamakura naruru neya no tsukikage
- English Translation
-
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
- Meaning
- The colours of autumn grow distant from the hedge; and the moonlight in my chamber has grown used to the arm I pillow my head on.
- Commentary
-
Book Four Autumn Poems I 432
Headnote: among the autumn poems of a hundred-poem sequence she presented.
As the colours of autumn fail, the moonlight alone comes into the bedchamber unchanged. The headnote assigns the poem to the autumn poems of a hundred-poem sequence.
Princess Shokushi, a daughter of Emperor Go-Shirakawa, had served as High Priestess of the Kamo Shrine. This is her seventh appearance in this book, after the four hundred and sixteenth and seventeenth poems.
The time is a night in autumn; the place is a bedchamber.
The occasion was the presentation of the hundred-poem sequence.
The first line names the subject, the colour of the plants.
The word in the second line names a fence loosely woven of bamboo or brushwood, used in the two hundred and seventy-fifth poem of Book Three and the three hundred and fortieth of this book; the adjective means not close, having little to do with, used in Michiteru's four hundred and twelfth poem. The fading of the garden is put as a loosening of the tie between colour and hedge.
The concessive particle in the third line turns the poem.
The word in the fourth line means an arm used as a pillow, used in Hitomaro's three hundred and forty-sixth poem; the verb means to grow familiar with, used in Saigyo's hundred and twenty-sixth poem in Book Two. The moonlight has grown used to that arm, which is to say it comes every night.
The poem closes on a noun. The colour outside is going and the light within does not change. Colour against light, outside against inside: near the close of this book, the poem marks the wearing away of autumn.
- Author
- Princess Shokushi
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- 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
- 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
- Is it autumn dew that settles so heavily on my sleeve, I ask through the long night, not sated the moon has taken lodging
- Yet once more it says look for me at dusk, and then the day has broken the moon is indifferent and the sky of autumn's night