有明の
|
ariake no
| |
つれなく見えし
|
tsurenaku mieshi
| |
別れより
|
wakare yori
| |
あかつきばかり
|
akatsuki bakari
| |
憂きものはなし
|
uki mono wa nashi
|
Mibu no TadamineMibu no Tadamine 壬生忠岑, father of Mibu no Tadami 壬生忠見 (dates unknown; Hyakunin Isshu 41), was born after the year 850, in a family of a rather unremarkable standing. He had no rank but by the end of 9th century had established himself as one of the esteemed poets of the day. It led him to the position as one of the compilers of the first imperial poetry anthology, Kokinshū 古今集 (Collection from Ancient and Modern Times; 905), − a work he did together with Ki no Tsurayuki 紀貫之 (866/872−954; Hyakunin Isshu 35), Ki no Tomonori 紀友則 (845−905; Hyakunin Isshu 33), and Ōshikōchi no Mitsune 凡河内躬恒 (859−925; Hyakunin Isshu 29).
Thirty five of his poems were included in Kokinshū, and a total of eighty two can be found throughout the imperial anthologies. His personal poetry collection Tadamine shū 忠岑集 (Personal Poetry Collection of Tadamine) also survives, while records show that Tadamine’s poetry continued to be appreciated and valued by later poets − Fujiwara no Kintō 藤原公任 (966−1041; Hyakunin Isshu 55) selected Tadamine as one of Thirty-Six Poetic Immortals (三十六歌仙 Sanjūrokkasen), while recorded opinions of Fujiwara no Teika 藤原定家 (1162−1241; Hyakunin Isshu 97), the presumed compiler of Ogura Hyakunin Isshu, also indicate him having deep appreciation for Tadamine’s poetry.
…nothing as painful as the time before dawnTadamine’s poem in the Hyakunin Isshu, at least partly because of the fame of this collection, is quite likely his best-known composition. And such a selection for Hyakunin Isshu was probably due to Fujiwara no Teika’s high regard of the poem − according to Kokon Chomonjū 古今著聞集 (A Collection of Notable Tales Old And New, 1254), when asked what poem he considered to be the best in Kokinshū, Teika answered that it was this poem of Tadamine’s (McMillan 2008, 122).
Originally included in the thirteenth book (Love 3) of Kokinshū, with the topic stated as unknown, this poem seems uncomplicated at first and looking at it line by line, certain words immediately stand out, helping to make sense of the composition.
ariake no | dawn | Ariake indicates dawn after the 16th lunar day, when moon is visible into the early hours of the morning, therefore moon at dawn is implied. No denotes nominative case. |
tsurenaku mieshi | cold-hearted(ly) | Tsurenaku is the ren’yōkei 連用形 (conjunctive form) of classical adjective tsurenashi, meaning cold-hearted, indifferent. It serves as an adverb and is connected to mieshi, meaning appeared, formed with ren’yōkei of verb miyu and shi, which is the rentaikei 連体形 (attributive form) of auxiliary verb ki (which denotes past tense) |
wakare yori | parting | Yori means since, rendering the line since parting/farewell. |
akatsuki bakari | early dawn | Akatsuki can be translated as early dawn, indicating the time when dawn is near but the sky is still dark. It was the time when men would come back from visiting their favoured ladies at night. Bakari indicates comparison. |
uki mono wa nashi | painful | Uki is form of adjective ushi, which means painful, diffficult. It is used here in rentaikei to connect with mono, here better understood in the phrase mono wa nashi, meaning there is nothing. |
While the poem may not seem difficult at first sight, lack of knowledge about the circumstances of its composition means that there is more than one way to read it. The first way is to see it as a morning-after poem (後朝の歌 kinuginu no uta) − a composition sent to a lady by her lover, who left in the early hours of the morning, as was quite usual:
Since the time we parted,
when the morning moon
appeared cold-hearted,
nothing is as painful
as the early hours of dawn.
This reading suggest a man, still unwilling to leave his lover, nevertheless forced to do so by the approaching dawn. It appears this interpretation was the one followed by Fujiwara no Teika, but the medieval commentators seem to have read the poem differently (Mostow 1996, 232). The picture there is of a man, kept outside throughout the night by the cold-hearted lady; and the poem, composed as he left in the early morning, likens the the coldness of the morning moon to the unloving lady (whom he must have been quite infatuated with, I must add).
Since the farewell,
when the morning moon
seemed as cold as you,
nothing is as painful
as the hours before dawn.
Thus the poem offers two readings of a farewell. One, starving for another − but perhaps impossible − meeting; another, disappointed for the meeting that was never allowed to happen; but both offering no comfort, as it is uncertain, whether parting ways once had led to binding them together again.
