Ima zo kiku kokoro wa ato mo nakarikeri yuki kakiwakete omoiyaredomo

English Translation

Only now I hear it—
the heart leaves no footprints
after all;
though through the snow I pushed my way,
sending my thoughts to you

Meaning

Only now do I learn it: the heart leaves no footprints after all—though I have been pushing my way through the snow to you in my thoughts.

Commentary

Book Six Winter Poems 665

Headnote: "Reply."
This is the ninth poem of the snow sequence. Answering Shunzei's poem, the speaker says he has only now learned that the heart leaves no footprints, though in thought he had been pushing through the snow toward his friend. According to the headnote, it is a reply to the preceding poem.
The author, "the Later Tokudaiji Minister of the Left," is Fujiwara no Sanesada. A son of the Minister of the Right Fujiwara no Kinyoshi, he rose to Minister of the Left. He was called the Later Tokudaiji Minister of the Left to distinguish him from his grandfather Fujiwara no Saneyoshi, the Tokudaiji Minister of the Left.
The scene is a snowy morning, and the place is the author's dwelling.
The direct occasion is replying to the preceding poem, 664, sent by his uncle Fujiwara no Shunzei on a snowy morning.

The first line, "ima zo kiku," is a kakari-musubi construction in which "zo" is answered by the attributive form of the verb "kiku," meaning "only now do I hear it." The poem breaks after the first line.
The second line, "kokoro wa ato mo," means "the heart, footprints," taking up "ato," trace, from "mada ato mo naki" in the preceding poem.
The third line, "nakarikeri," means "leaves none, after all," with "keri" expressing the exclamation of awareness. The poem breaks again here.
The fourth line, "yuki kakiwakete," means "pushing my way through the snow."
The last line, "omoiyaredomo," means "though my thoughts went out to you," with "domo" as a concessive conjunctive particle, in inverted relation to the third line. To the preceding poem's reproach that there were no footprints, it answers with wit: in his heart he had pushed through the snow to visit many times, but since the heart leaves no footprints, his visits went unnoticed. In the form of an exchange that turns back the other's own word "ato," it stands alongside the exchange of 658 and 659 in this book, so that two exchanges on snowy mornings are set in the book.

Author

Fujiwara no Sanesada

Source

Shin Kokin Wakashu

Other