東路の道の冬草茂りあひて
跡だに見えぬ忘れ水かな
跡だに見えぬ忘れ水かな
- Roma-ji
-
Azumaji no michi no fuyukusa shigeriaite ato dani mienu wasuremizu kana
- English Translation
-
On the eastern road
the winter grasses by the way
have grown so thick
that not even a trace remains
of the forgotten stream
- Meaning
- On the road to the eastern provinces the winter grasses have grown so thick that not even a trace can be seen of the forgotten stream.
- Commentary
-
Book Six Winter Poems 628
Headnote: "Sent to someone in the capital while I was in the eastern provinces."
This is the eighteenth poem of the frost-and-withering sequence. It sings of a forgotten stream whose very traces are hidden by the thick winter grasses along the eastern road, likening to it a self being forgotten by the people of the capital. According to the headnote, it was sent to someone in the capital while the author was in the eastern provinces.
The author, "Yasusuke-ō no Haha," was a lady-in-waiting, a daughter of Ise no Taifu, who became the wife of Prince Nobuzane and was so called because she bore Prince Yasusuke. Since her personal name is not recorded, the designation in the original is used.
The scene is winter, and the place is a road in the eastern provinces.
The direct occasion is sending a poem to someone in the capital while she was in the eastern provinces.
The first line, "azumaji no," means "of the road from the capital to the east," or "of the eastern provinces."
The second line, "michi no fuyukusa," refers to the grasses growing along the road in winter.
The third line, "shigeriaite," means "growing thick together" and runs to six syllables, one over the count.
In the fourth line, "ato dani mienu," "dani" is an adverbial particle meaning "even": "not even a trace can be seen."
The last line, "wasuremizu kana," closes with the exclamatory particle "kana." A "wasuremizu," forgotten stream, is water that trickles unnoticed through fields and the like, and through its name the speaker likens herself to one being forgotten by the people of the capital. In the water hidden without a trace beneath the winter grasses, she overlays her own plight in the distant east, where news from the capital grows scarce. Following the preceding poem's longing for a companion in a winter mountain village, a poem of longing for people in the far-off capital is set here.
- Author
- The Mother of Prince Yasusuke
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- Winter has grown deep, so it seems, for at Naniwa Inlet not one green leaf is mingled any longer in the standing clumps of reeds
- If only there were another who could bear such loneliness— we would set our huts side by side in this mountain village in winter
- Thinking of the past, I wake deep in the night in a bed grown chill, and even my tears are freezing upon my sleeve
- The mountain drops that soaked one waiting there have lost their sound; on the lower leaves of the maki they now hang as icicles