月見ばと契り置きてし故郷の
人もや今宵袖濡らすらん
人もや今宵袖濡らすらん
- Roma-ji
-
Tsuki miba to chigiri okiteshi furusato no hito mo ya koyoi sode nurasuran
- English Translation
-
"When you see the moon"—
so we promised as we parted;
back in my old home,
might that one tonight as well
be wetting sleeves with tears?
- Meaning
- "When you see the moon, remember me," we promised before I left; might the one I left at home be wetting her sleeves with tears tonight as well?
- Commentary
-
Book Ten Travel Poems 938
Headnote continued from the preceding poem: "Topic unknown."
This is the ninth of a sequence of poems on the moon seen on a journey. The speaker wonders whether the one at home, with whom he promised to think of each other when seeing the moon, is also wetting her sleeves tonight, thinking of home from the moon on the road. The headnote gives no topic, and the circumstances of composition are not recorded.
No author is named, and the poem continues from the preceding one as a work of Saigyō. Saigyō, whose lay name was Satō Norikiyo, served Retired Emperor Toba as a guard of the Northern Quarter before taking holy orders, a poet of the late Heian period.
The scene is a night of viewing the moon on a journey, far from home.
The direct occasion is not recorded.
The first line, "tsuki miba to," means "if you see the moon." The irrealis form with "ba" makes a supposition, giving the words of the promise exchanged at parting.
The second line, "chigiri okiteshi," means "as we promised." The past "shi" looks back to the promise made before setting out. As with "chigirite ideshi" in 941, it sings of a promise made at departure.
The third line, "furusato no," means "of my old home." Like "furusatobito" in 909, it refers to someone left at home.
The fourth line, "hito mo ya koyoi," means "that one too, tonight." The particle "ya" poses a question, answered by "ran" in the attributive form in the last line. "Mo" shows the thought "just as I do, the one at home too."
The last line, "sode nurasuran," means "might be wetting her sleeves with tears?" "Ran" conjectures about a present event out of sight. Where 935 sings of the moonlight on the traveler's own sleeve, this poem imagines the wet sleeves of the one at home, moving the tear-wet sleeve from the traveler's side to the side of home.
- Author
- Saigyō
- Source
- Shin Kokin Wakashu
- Other
-
- Together we left, and that sky I cannot forget, though time goes by; above the capital's hills, the moon that lingered into dawn.
- In the capital, when I thought the moon so moving, that feeling, I see, counted for nothing at all, a mere passing amusement.
- When the day has dawned, is that the mountain peak I must cross again— there where the passing moon goes, the white clouds that lie ahead?
- From my old home, bring the face of the one there today, come, lead it to me, so I bid the moon and pledge at Sayo-no-Nakayama.