立ち昇る煙をだにも見るべきに
霞にまがふ春の曙
霞にまがふ春の曙
- Roma-ji
-
Tachinoboru keburi o dani mo mirubeki ni kasumi ni magau haru no akebono
- English Translation
-
The rising smoke,
at least that much I should see,
and yet it is lost,
mingling with the haze
of the dawn in spring.
- Meaning
- I ought at least to see the smoke as it rises—yet even that is lost, blending into the haze of the spring dawn.
- Commentary
-
Book Eight Lament Poems 767
Headnote: "On returning after attending to the funeral rites at a place called Katsura, when the former Major Counselor Mitsuyori had died in spring."
This is the ninth poem of the sequence on partings by death in spring. It says that the poet would at least see the smoke rising, yet even that is lost in the haze of the spring dawn. According to the headnote, it was composed on the way back after the funeral rites at a place called Katsura, when the former Major Counselor Mitsuyori had died in spring.
The son of Provisional Middle Counselor Fujiwara no Akiyori, the author served as Intendant of the Left Military Guards and in other posts, but after the Heiji Disturbance he was exiled and took holy orders. "Former Major Counselor Mitsuyori" is the author's elder brother, Fujiwara no Mitsuyori, who rose to Provisional Major Counselor.
The scene is a spring dawn after Mitsuyori's death, set at Katsura, west of the capital.
The direct occasion is the journey home after the funeral of his elder brother Mitsuyori.
The first line, "tachinoboru," depicts the smoke of cremation rising into the sky.
In the second line, "keburi o dani mo," "dani" means "at least." Since the figure of the dead can no longer be seen, it expresses the wish to see at least the smoke.
In the third line, "mirubeki ni," "beki" expresses what ought to be and "ni" is concessive, meaning "though I ought to see it."
In the fourth line, "kasumi ni magau," "magau" means to blend together until one cannot be told from the other. The rising smoke can no longer be distinguished from the spring haze.
The last line, "haru no akebono," ends on a noun. The scene of a spring dawn, which ought to be beautiful, here becomes what hides the last trace of the dead. Taking up "harugasumi" from the preceding poem, 766, it repeats the pairing of haze and funeral smoke, and echoing "nobe no kasumi" in 758 of this book, it brings the sequence on partings in spring to a close.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Korekata
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
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- Having seen blossoms, all the less I hurry home along the homeward road— for no one is there whom I think would be waiting for my return.
- The spring haze that hung over the sky—even the trace it has left behind is a parting, I find, with today as its last.
- As a keepsake I gaze, and grief grows deeper— peony, deep-grief flower, why must your radiance only make the sorrow worse?
- This iris plant— for whom to remember by was it set in earth, before vanishing like dew beneath the mugwort's roots?