世の中は見しも聞きしもはかなくて
むなしき空の煙なりけり
むなしき空の煙なりけり
- Roma-ji
-
Yo no naka wa mishi mo kikishi mo hakanakute munashiki sora no keburi narikeri
- English Translation
-
This world of ours—
what I have seen and heard
is all so fleeting,
nothing but the smoke
in the empty sky, I find.
- Meaning
- In this world, all I have seen and all I have heard is fleeting—nothing but smoke in the empty sky.
- Commentary
-
Book Eight Lament Poems 830
Headnote: "Sent when, while I was in mourning for my mother, I received an inquiry from the household of someone else who had also died."
This is the fourth poem of the sequence on visits of mourning and condolence. It says that in this world, what one has seen and what one has heard is all fleeting, smoke in the empty sky. According to the headnote, while he was in mourning for his mother, he received condolences from a household that had also lost someone, and sent this poem in reply.
The son of Master of the Left Capital Office Fujiwara no Akisuke, the author carried on the poetic learning of the Rokujō Fujiwara house and wrote the poetic treatise Fukurozōshi.
The scene is his period of mourning for his mother, and the place is not recorded.
The direct occasion is receiving condolences from a household that had also lost someone.
The first line, "yo no naka wa," means "this world."
The second line, "mishi mo kikishi mo," means "what I have seen and what I have heard." It sets side by side his own mother's death and the death in the household that sent condolences.
The third line, "hakanakute," means "fleeting," continuing into the fourth line.
In the fourth line, "munashiki sora no," "munashiki sora" is the empty sky. The phrase also appears in 821 of this book, speaking of where the smoke of cremation vanishes.
In the last line, "keburi narikeri," "keri" is exclamatory, showing the realization that it was smoke. Without separating his own grief from the other's, he receives both as smoke vanishing into the sky. Following the exchange that ran to the preceding poem, 829, this poem answering condolences closes the sequence on visits of mourning and condolence. It also echoes the poems of smoke, 820 to 822, of this book.
- Author
- Fujiwara no Kiyosuke
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- While you remain in the dream of your sorrow, boundless as it is, I would not wake you, I thought, and have grieved all this while.
- In the dream I saw, not lost at once with it— this self of mine today, receiving your words, is what first brings me sorrow.
- When to lament, when to think upon it, then, if not now, that people pass their days without a thought of the world that is to come?
- All people alike wear a knowing look, and yet they do not know— that for all there is the law that we must surely die.