あだに散る露の枕に臥しわびて
鶉鳴くなりとこの山風
鶉鳴くなりとこの山風
- Roma-ji
-
Ada ni chiru tsuyu no makura ni fushiwabite uzura naku nari toko no yamakaze
- English Translation
-
Pillowed on the dew
scattering so fleetingly,
unable to rest,
the quail is heard crying out—
the mountain wind by my bed
- Meaning
- Unable to lie at ease on a pillow of fleetingly scattering dew, the quail cries in the mountain wind of Toko.
- Commentary
-
Book Five Autumn Poems II 514
Headnote: "Topic unknown."
This is the third and final poem of the quail sequence. Unable to rest on a pillow of fleetingly scattering dew, the quail cries in the mountain wind of Toko. The headnote gives no topic, and the circumstances of composition are not recorded.
The author was actually Fujiwara no Shunzei's granddaughter and became his adopted daughter; she was a lady-in-waiting and poet in the service of Retired Emperor Go-Toba.
The scene is an autumn night with mountain wind, in fields near Mount Toko, a poetic place in Ōmi Province.
The direct occasion is not recorded.
In the first line, "ada" means fleeting and unreliable, describing dew scattering at the slightest wind.
The second line, "tsuyu no makura ni," means "on a pillow of dewy grass," the quail's resting place; a dew-wet pillow also suggests a pillow wet with tears.
In the third line, "wabi" means to find it hard to do: "unable to lie at rest."
In the fourth line, "nari" is the auxiliary of inference from sound, showing the quail's cry is heard. The poem breaks here.
The last line ends on a noun; "toko" is a pivot word joining "bed" with Mount Toko, a poetic place in Ōmi. The cold mountain wind blowing into the bed deepens the lament of a quail unable to rest on its dewy pillow. Following the quail of 512 and 513, bearing the grief of the abandoned, this poem portrays the quail as one sleeping alone, restless on a pillow of dew, and closes the quail sequence.
- Author
- The Daughter of Fujiwara no Shunzei
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- Through the autumns passed, deep grow sorrow and the dew in Fukakusa— what comes calling at that home is only the quail, it seems
- Pampas at the foot of the hills in setting sun bend and sway along— in whose autumn weariness does the quail cry out its call?
- No one comes to call— with storm winds blowing harder, autumn has arrived, and the grass along the path lies buried in fallen leaves
- Dew of changing hues settling on my sleeves in waves, strewn in disarray— withering from the tips now, autumn in the meadow fields