旅寝する芦の丸屋の寒ければ
爪木樵り積む舟急ぐなり
爪木樵り積む舟急ぐなり
- Roma-ji
-
Tabine suru ashi no maroya no samukereba tsumagi kori tsumu fune isogu nari
- English Translation
-
Sleeping on my way,
in a hut thatched with the reeds
the cold is bitter,
and the boats with brushwood cut
are hurrying, I can hear.
- Meaning
- It is cold in the reed-thatched hut where I sleep on my journey, and I can hear the boats hurrying along, loaded with cut brushwood.
- Commentary
-
Book Ten Travel Poems 927
Headnote: "Composed at Tanakami."
This is the eighth of a sequence of poems on the loneliness of sleeping on a journey. Because the reed hut where the traveler sleeps is cold, boats loaded with cut brushwood seem to hurry along, the chill of a lodging by the water and the work of the local people. According to the headnote, it was composed at Tanakami.
The author, "Major Counselor Tsunenobu," is Minamoto no Tsunenobu. A noble of the late Heian period, he rose to Senior Second Rank and Major Counselor and was called the Katsura Major Counselor.
The scene is a night on a journey in the cold season, in a reed hut by the water at Tanakami in Ōmi Province.
The direct occasion is a stay at Tanakami.
The first line, "tabine suru," begins with the same words as the third line of the preceding poem. The two poems are set side by side sharing a line.
The second line, "ashi no maroya no," means "of the reed-thatched hut." It uses the same words as "ashi no maroya ni" in the preceding poem, so that the same lodging is sung of in succession.
The third line, "samukereba," means "since it is cold." The realis form with "ba" gives the reason.
The fourth line, "tsumagi kori tsumu," means "loaded with brushwood they have cut." "Tsumagi" is small branches for firewood, showing the work of the local people preparing against the cold.
The last line, "fune isogu nari," means "the boats seem to be hurrying." "Nari" infers from sound; from within the hut the speaker catches the sound of boats being rowed in haste. Where the preceding poem tells of a traveler unable to bear the waves breaking over the hut, this poem turns from the cold of the same hut to the boats of the local people carrying firewood, shifting the view from the traveler's unease to life by the water.
- Author
- Minamoto no Tsunenobu
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- Pillowed on the grass, you who sleep upon your way, take heed of the hour; even the moon of daybreak has sunk low now in the sky.
- Unused to the shore, my heart cannot bear it so, sleeping on my way in a hut thatched with the reeds, as the white waves break against it.
- On the mountain road did he set out just this morning, that traveler there? His hat has turned snowy white as the snow keeps piling on.
- Beneath the pine roots I cut pampas plumes to spread, and all through the night on the one sleeve that I lay, the snow keeps on falling down.