夜もすがら昔のことを見つるかな
語るやうつつありし世や夢
語るやうつつありし世や夢
- Roma-ji
-
Yomosugara mukashi no koto o mitsuru kana kataru ya utsutsu arishi yo ya yume
- English Translation
-
All the night through
the things of long ago
I have seen again—
is this telling the waking world,
or was that world a dream?
- Meaning
- All night long I have seen the things of long ago—is this telling of them the waking world, or was the world that was once a dream?
- Commentary
-
Book Eight Lament Poems 824
Headnote: "Topic unknown."
This is the second poem of the sequence recalling the days when the dead were alive. It says that all night he has seen the things of long ago, and asks whether the telling of them now is real or the world that was is a dream. The headnote gives no topic, and the circumstances of composition are not recorded.
A scholar of the mid-Heian period, the author served as Professor of Letters and was the husband of the poet Akazome Emon. He is one of the Thirty-Six Later Poetic Immortals.
The scene is a night of recalling the past, and the place is not recorded.
The direct occasion is not recorded.
The first line, "yomosugara," means "all the night through."
The second line, "mukashi no koto o," means "the things of the past that are gone."
In the third line, "mitsuru kana," "tsuru" marks completion and "kana" is exclamatory, meaning "I have seen." It speaks of seeing the things of the past in dreams all night. The poem pauses after the third line.
In the fourth line, "kataru ya utsutsu," "ya" is interrogative, meaning "is the telling now the waking world?"
In the last line, "arishi yo ya yume," "arishi yo" is the world of the past that is gone. "Ya" is interrogative, meaning "was the world that was a dream?" Setting the fourth and last lines in parallel as "... ya utsutsu" and "... ya yume," it shows a heart that can no longer tell dream from reality. Following the preceding poem, 823, which recalled a promise exchanged in life, here the past itself is questioned as dream or reality.
- Author
- Ōe no Masahira
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
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- Think of me, my friend— not mingling with the smoke that burned away, the haze of spring that rises left behind, lagging still.
- Ah, my friend— had you known your life would end today, by the reeds of Naniwa you would have made no vow.
- Thinking the image of old that it once held might still remain, I look, and grief only grows— this clear mirror in my hands.
- Only the words written down and left behind— the brush's stream flows on and yet remains, the keepsake, after all.