秋とだに忘れんと思ふ月影を
さもあやにくに打つ衣かな
さもあやにくに打つ衣かな
- Roma-ji
-
Aki to dani wasuren to omou tsukikage o samo ayaniku ni utsu koromo kana
- English Translation
-
Wanting to forget
even that it's autumn now
as I watch the moon,
how perversely at this hour
someone beats upon their robes
- Meaning
- Beneath the moonlight, in which I would forget that it is even autumn, how perversely someone beats robes on the fulling block.
- Commentary
-
Book Five Autumn Poems II 480
Headnote: "At the Poetry Contest in 1,500 Rounds."
This is the sixth poem of the fulling-block sequence. The speaker would gaze at the moon and forget, at least, that it is autumn, but the untimely sound of robes being beaten brings the season back. According to the headnote, it was composed for the Poetry Contest in 1,500 Rounds.
The author was a son of Fujiwara no Shunzei and one of the compilers of the Shinkokinshū who later rose to Provisional Middle Counselor.
The scene is a moonlit autumn night, in a dwelling within hearing of the fulling blocks.
The direct occasion was the Poetry Contest in 1,500 Rounds, completed around 1202.
In the first line, "dani" means "at least," giving "at least that it is autumn."
In the second line, "n" is the volitional auxiliary "mu": "I mean to forget." It shows the wish to escape the sorrow of autumn.
In the third line, "tsukikage" is moonlight, and "o" marks it as the setting of the beating. The speaker seeks to distract autumn thoughts by gazing at the moon.
In the fourth line, "samo" means "indeed" and "ayaniku ni" "perversely, untimely."
In the last line, "kana" is exclamatory. The sound of the fulling block, emblem of autumn, perversely calls back the heart that would forget the season. In 479 the same sound was heard as a pastime urging one to stay awake and gaze at the moon; here it disturbs the heart that gazes at the moon to forget autumn, reversing the relation between fulling block and moon-viewing. It also shares the spirit of reproach in 478.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Teika
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- The village lies waste— 'Is this not the moon of old?' even in reproach, who is beating robes among the rank-grown sedge of this place?
- Is it a pastime meant to tell me, 'Do not sleep— gaze on through the night'? the sound of hempen robes struck beneath the light of the moon
- That in my old home they are beating robes, perhaps the wild geese in flight cry out across the far sky telling it to one who roams
- Wild geese cry above, and the wind blows cold, so cold— my fine Chinese robe, longing for you, I can't wait— no night passes unbeaten