人は来ず風に木の葉は散り果てて
夜な夜な虫は声弱るなり
夜な夜な虫は声弱るなり
- Roma-ji
-
Hito wa kozu kaze ni konoha wa chirihatete yonayona mushi wa koe yowaru nari
- English Translation
-
No one comes to me;
on the wind the leaves have all
scattered and are gone;
night after night the insects'
voices grow weaker, I hear
- Meaning
- No one comes; the leaves have all been scattered by the wind, and night after night the voices of the insects grow weaker.
- Commentary
-
Book Five Autumn Poems II 535
Headnote: "Topic unknown."
This is the thirteenth poem of the autumn-leaves sequence. No one comes, the leaves have all been scattered by the wind, and night after night the insects' voices grow weaker. The headnote gives no topic, and the circumstances of composition are not recorded.
The author was a mid-Heian poet also called Sotan from his post as Secretary of Tango.
The scene is night after night near autumn's end, at a dwelling where no one comes.
The direct occasion is not recorded.
The first line, "hito wa kozu," means "no one comes," and the poem breaks here. It states outright the lack of visitors that 534 half-denied with "though it is not that I wait."
The second line means "the leaves, by the wind."
The third line, "chirihatete," means scattered completely, showing that the height of the foliage has passed.
The fourth line, "yonayona mushi wa," means "night after night, the insects," showing decline day by day.
In the last line, "nari" is the auxiliary of inference from sound, conveying that the insects' voices can be heard growing weaker. Visitors, leaves, insects—three things that graced autumn are lined up as they are lost one after another, piling up the loneliness of autumn's end. Like 472 and 510, it sings of insect voices fading as autumn deepens, but here it layers that with the end of visits and of falling leaves, giving the signs of autumn's close in several strata.
- Author
- Sone no Yoshitada
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- The old home lies deep buried under scattered leaves of crimson and gold— through the fern upon the eaves the autumn wind is blowing
- Leaves of the kiri have grown so deep I can scarce push my way through them— though it is not that I wait for someone to come to me
- Giving way to hues of the crimson autumn leaves, even evergreens seem to change upon the wind— such is the autumn mountain
- Dew and showers leak through Moruyama's shade on low leaves blazing red— though I be drenched, I'll break some as a keepsake of autumn