亡き人をしのぶることもいつまでぞ
今日のあはれは明日の我が身を
今日のあはれは明日の我が身を
- Roma-ji
-
Naki hito o shinoburu koto mo itsu made zo kyō no aware wa asu no waga mi o
- English Translation
-
Remembering the dead—
how long can even that go on?
Today's sorrow
is for tomorrow the lot
of my own self, after all.
- Meaning
- How long can we even go on remembering the dead? The sorrow we feel today will tomorrow be our own.
- Commentary
-
Book Eight Lament Poems 818
Headnote: "Reply."
This is the third poem of the sequence remembering the dead through things and places they left behind, a reply to the preceding poem. It answers by asking how long remembering the dead can go on, since today's sorrow will be one's own tomorrow. The headnote says "Reply," answering Murasaki Shikibu's poem before it.
The author was a lady-in-waiting to Jōtōmon'in.
The scene is the same time after Koshōshō's death as the preceding poem, and the place is not recorded.
The direct occasion is the reply to the poem sent by Murasaki Shikibu in the preceding poem.
The first line, "naki hito o," means "the late Koshōshō."
In the second line, "shinoburu koto mo," "shinobu" means to remember and long for the dead. "Mo" adds the sense "remembering itself, too, including looking at the keepsakes."
The third line, "itsu made zo," means "until when?" Taking up "tare ka yo ni nagaraete min" from the preceding poem, it answers that the life of the one who remembers is not long either. The poem pauses after the third line.
In the fourth line, "kyō no aware wa," "aware" is the sorrow of mourning a death.
In the last line, "asu no waga mi o," "o" is exclamatory, meaning "though it will be my own tomorrow." It says that one who mourns another's death today will be mourned tomorrow. Receiving the preceding poem's point that the life of the one who looks at the keepsake does not last, the reply takes it one step further: the one who remembers will also become one who is remembered. The pairing of "today" and "tomorrow" shows the shortness of human life.
- Author
- Kaga no Shōnagon
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- "I pine for you"— this at least, hear it, hear: in the temple bell's toll, not for the space of a moment can I forget you, ever.
- Who in this world will live on long to see it? The traces written down are a keepsake that will not vanish, though that may be so.
- Hoping at the least to see the traces of the dead, I came and looked— but it has become instead a village not the same.
- Since that evening when the one I knew so well turned into smoke, how dear to me is the name of the shore of Shiogama.