あるはなく無きは数添ふ世の中に
あはれいづれの日まで嘆かん
あはれいづれの日まで嘆かん
- Roma-ji
-
Aru wa naku naki wa kazu sou yo no naka ni aware izure no hi made nagekan
- English Translation
-
The living are lost,
the dead grow ever more
in this world of ours—
ah, until which day
must I go on lamenting?
- Meaning
- In this world where the living pass away and the dead only grow in number—ah, until what day must I go on lamenting?
- Commentary
-
Book Eight Lament Poems 850
Headnote: "Topic unknown."
This is the second poem of the sequence of lament poems by poets of older times. It asks until what day she must go on lamenting, in a world where the living pass away and the dead grow in number. The headnote gives no topic, and the circumstances of composition are not recorded.
A woman poet of the early Heian period, the author is one of the Six Poetic Immortals and one of the Thirty-Six Poetic Immortals.
The scene and place are not recorded.
The direct occasion is not recorded.
The first line, "aru wa naku," means "those who live pass away." It pairs "aru," being, with "naku," not being.
The second line, "naki wa kazu sou," means "the dead grow in number." It forms a parallel with the first line, piling up being and not being in "aru," "naku," "naki," and "kazu sou" to describe the living decreasing and the dead increasing.
The third line, "yo no naka ni," means "in such a world."
In the fourth line, "aware izure no," "aware" is the cry "ah." "Izure no" means "which."
In the last line, "hi made nagekan," "n" is conjectural, meaning "until what day shall I lament?" While lamenting the deaths of others, one will before long become one lamented, and until that day there is nothing to do but go on lamenting. It echoes 835 of this book, which sang that the number of the dead to be remembered keeps growing, in the same conceit of the dead increasing in number. It follows the preceding poem, 849, as another poem by a poet of older times.
- Author
- Ono no Komachi
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- When did it happen— that I made myself at last a mountain dweller, so that now I think of the city as a place of journeying?
- In the far heavens, in the rain, drenched and drooping, for our lord's sake not knowing moon or sun, do we go on longing still?
- "Is it a white pearl? What is it?" she asked me then— would that I had said "it is dew," and like the dew had vanished away myself.
- As the years go by, so it comes to be, I see— in mourning black, is this the one I loved, they say, or is it someone else?